So my beautiful friend Marky Poos is away.
He’s traveling the world one brave step at a time and I am so proud of him and his journey.
He’s been away for over two years now.
That’s a very long time.
He’s telephoned. Quite a few times. I could have spoken to him. But I have always found excuses. I don’t want to hear his voice. I’m scared I couldn’t cope hearing it.
I miss him so much. It might make me miss him more. It’s more bearable if he’s unreachable.
Truth is I do miss Mark, terribly, but that’s not the only reason I am avoiding speaking to him.
It’s like I have this compartment in my heart for all of the people who I gravely miss. I’ve placed Mark in there, along with my Dad.
I think that’s why I can’t speak to Mark. I’ll open the box. I can’t speak to everyone in there. It’s just best I don’t open it.
I don’t want to be reminded that Mark is in the world somewhere and my Dad is not.
If I don’t speak to Mark I can keep on pretending that my Dad has found his way to a remote part of the world too, having one awesome adventure as well.
But deep down I know the truth.
I’m going to struggle when Mark comes home, for purely selfish reasons. I will be beyond happy to see him and hug him and hear his voice and touch his face but I know I’m going to ball.
I’ve got a huge lump in my throat just thinking about it.
I know it’s something I need to do, and I am pleased Mark will be there to help me through it.
He’s great, my friend Mark.
Speak soon Poos ❤