After 6 years together, he left in march 1995 while I struggled with the isolation imposed by an itchy depressing case of the chicken pox. A tough year. Tracey Thorn helped smooth the edges on the darker sad moments, taking them up to a normal sadness with her soothing song, Missing. 16 years later the radio plays Missing and I’m reminded that even though I no longer hear the screaming in my mind, sometimes my mind wanders past where we lived, and I miss you.
Everything But the Girl sang Missing
On the off-chance you still use the same email address I replied to your last email (2006). Your prompt, succint reply, with a large attachment of baffling technical IE8 jargon, quashed that missing feeling. It prompted cat-spooking, floor hugging, loud laughter. So typical of you to find something to apologise for as an opening sentence then quickly spring into politics, attitude, and rude words:
Sorry about the attachment. I was booted off line before I was able to send. I blame the government. Big society? Big arse, more like.
We’re still unsynchronised dancing to Stand. It’s good to know you’re still there, somewhere, being wonderful you…
REM sang Stand