One of the things that has made me most sad about leaving London was leaving the opportunity - or maybe just the chance - to see if there was anything between myself and a friend. Everytime I spent time with them, we had a mutually good time and there were indications that I assumed were a green light without any actual declarations that could be highly embarrassing should there not be reciprocation.
But when I was back and hectically trying to plan things with friends, I could not seem to pin this person down to a day or time to meet up. Hell, I could not pin this person down to reply to an email or a text and I just figured I had been immensely wrong. Getting on that plane, I was disappointed to think I had missed out on seeing him one last time and seeing if something developed, but at the same time, I was not getting on the plane heartbroken. Or worse, longing for something that I don't think either of us would be able to wait for.
Imagine my surprise to land almost nine hours later and receive an explanation. Fair enough, I may be gullible and perhaps I have misunderstood the whole situation. But when there is an explanation for someone's absence, I will give them the benefit of doubt. Perhaps the incommunicado has not been excused and needs some further explanation, but there we go. And I am wondering with thoughts all a turmoil, perhaps I would rather have just chalked this whole affair to a giant cosmic letdown than to start thinking again about possibilities, even those afar
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