Everything about us was physical, even the way I missed him when we parted. Seeing him disappear slowly through the dusty windows of the bus felt like being struck by lightning or losing your breath as you're smothered to death with a pillow. But the worst pain is always that which is inflicted on us by the people we love the most.
One evening in early March, as we were waiting for one of those busses together, I noticed it for the very first time. He asked are you busy this weekend, and I said didn't I tell you? He looked at me with a blank face and my heart skipped a beat. I knew I had told him about my mother and I going away for a few days, because it was something I wanted him to know. I wanted him to know so I told him and he forgot. After a few painfully silent seconds he laughed and said right, I'm sorry.
And how dearly I wanted him to be.