part nine
The
last time I looked at London wasn't from my familiar Gloucester hotel room but
from the shuttle that took us to Hyde Park and back to the airport. I went to
Heathrow and felt that there was nothing left inside my chest because it was
all welled up behind my eyes and I couldn't let it out right there. I wanted
London to be so much more than a one-night stand but I had to leave...and that
was all right. Maybe not alright, because I was still burning out and I
wouldn't sleep for 30 hours straight, but I knew in my head that it was all
right. My chest would feel better when I no longer had to face that I was
leaving, when I was just gone and had no choice. And indeed I felt much more at
peace in the Heathrow airport terminal than the night before when we ate at the
Hard Rock Cafe in London and I knew I was spending my last evening in the city
for God knows how long.
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