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An Igloo made of Books by Miler Lagos

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22 Days, 13 Hours, 44 Minutes

Technically, that is how long it is until I land at Brisbane Airport, on the 18th of June. I am beyond excited. I can’t believe I’m flying to another country just to be with the one that I love. I never thought I’d do something like this. But here I am, counting down the days (I even have an app installed on my phone to help with the countdown). 

I’m quite nervous, too. But it’s that good kind of nervous. The nervous that makes you smile when you think about being with that person again. It’s been almost four months since I last saw James, and then we were just friends. Well, not just friends. We have been friends for a long time - best friends. He’s the person I trust the most, and am the most comfortable with. But I had friend-zoned him for a long time after the first fling together we had almost two years ago now (I feel bad about friend-zoning him). But I was in a bad place then; the timing was not right. So I put us on hold.

He moved on though (or so I thought). He started dating another girl last year, and they were living together within a month. I thought he was crazy, and I told him so, because at that stage he was still my best friend, and we still talked about everything. Except how we felt. I watched him date her, and then I watched him get torn apart by her. He wasn’t the same James that I cared about. 

After she was out of his life, we spent more time together, and he slowly became his old self once more. We became close friends again. But then he told me he was moving to Australia. I felt my heart stop, I really did. I had lost my chance. I had spent all this time worrying about how letting him know how I felt would change our friendship, that the chance I had to do anything had slipped by. This was in about September last year, I believe.

I finally got the courage up to let him know everything, but this was only a few weeks before he was to leave for Australia. I knew I had to let him go and do what he needed to do, I wouldn’t dare hold him back, because I would resent myself for it. He reciprocated my feelings, and tried to convince me to move to Australia after finishing honours. I knew that would never happen. So he left, and I pushed my feelings to the back of my mind and tried to forget. 

It was in April that he told me that he was coming back to New Zealand next year to study, because he had figured out what he wanted to do with his life. I was so happy for him. Then I realised that he was coming back; I had gotten a second chance. And now I’m flying over to Australia to be with him, for ten days at least. It’s not much, but it means the world to me that he still wants me despite all this.

I had to write this for some reason - get it out of my mind and down on paper (so to speak) to sort of legitimise it. I also like writing stuff that isn’t about communications, or ethics, or public diplomacy (rage). 

Until next time. 

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