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The novelty of visiting London always wore off faster than I expected, but this time around, it was probably because of my turbulent emotions.
I felt like the pendulum in a grandfather clock knocked off balance, swinging wildly between emotions, unable to settle.
I was frazzled and dysregulated, but more than that, I was tired in a way that wasn’t just from a bad night’s sleep. I was weary, and the frenetic energy that seemed to pulse through London like EDM was too much, too overwhelming. Everything was too loud in my head, and I couldn’t turn the volume of my thoughts down.
I’d called Becka and told her about the letter. She was righteously furious on my behalf, and had agreed with Jihoon, or at least the gist of what he’d said. I’d left out the part where I’d desperately wanted him to kiss me, because I had only just come round to accepting that’s what I had felt in the moment.
Becka’s attitude had fallen in the camp of: “They didn’t deserve Valerie, they sure as shit do not deserve you.”
I hadn’t tried to pretend I wasn’t crying when she’d said that. Just a little bit. She let me get it out without comment, and for that I loved her more. She didn’t try to make it better. She loved me in exactly the way I needed, even oceans apart.
July 16th
Today, GVibes was performing on BBC Radio’s 1’s iconic Live Lounge session. I’d begged to go when I’d seen it on the schedule, but there simply wasn’t room in the studio, and the docu-series producer had called dibs on filming for it.
Now though, if I wasn’t exactly relieved, I was at least somewhere in the vicinity of relief, because I didn’t know how I could look Jihoon in the eye today and pretend like I hadn’t wanted to fall into him the night before like he was a safety net.
Because that’s what it had felt like, and I was too tired to deny it. He felt like safety to me. And not just because he was familiar. Not just because I knew how his arms felt wrapped around me.
I was so tired of being at war with myself over him. I was so exhausted by all the ‘yes, but’ arguments my brain supplied whenever my heart said, ‘maybe’.
I was just so tired.
I spent the day catching up with some of my old friends from Frequency. Including Patrick.
He was standing outside the cafe we were meeting at. He didn’t see me approach, and it gave me the opportunity to observe him for a few moments as I walked down the road towards him. He looked relaxed, casual in a way I had always liked about him. Like life was just going to happen, whether he forced his way into it, or not.
I’d always felt like I was swimming upstream so much of the time. I still did.
When he spotted me, his face broke out into a grin that had always made me feel like the most important person in the room.
“Thompson,” he beamed, stepping towards me with his arms outstretched.
“Oh, wait.” He hesitated. “Is this okay? Are we huggers now?”
I rolled my eyes and reached for him. “Let’s give it a go.”
He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me in a familiar hug before drawing away to look down at me. “You look tired,” he commented, eyes pinching a little. “You okay?”
“I’ll be better after a coffee,” I said with a wry smile.
“I reckon we can facilitate that,” he replied. “One thing, though,” he said, sounding hesitant. “The others are already in there. But so is my girlfriend. Is that alright?”
“Oh,” I said, taken aback, and I allowed myself a moment to consider how I felt. And then I grinned. “I’d be happy to meet her.”
Patrick and I hadn’t been right for each other, but if he’d found someone that made him happy, I was happy for him.
He exhaled, visibly relieved, and I huffed out a laugh.
“Did you expect me to be weird about it?” I teased, nudging his foot with mine.
“The missus and the ex?” he exclaimed. “Nah. What could possibly be weird about that?”
I laughed, and he held out his hand to pull open the door to the cafe.
“Come on, Thompson. Let’s get you a coffee.”
Later that evening, I uploaded my photos from the day to my social media, pausing to smile at the group photo of all of us grinning or making faces.
