Moving On a Better Man

I thought I saw her last week,on the escalator at Liverpool Street Station, it wasn't her by the way, that would have been impossible.

She died twelve years ago yesterday, they were never quite sure what it was, but it was so sudden, she came home from work, sat in the chair and died. She was 37.

I came home from work and thought she was asleep, so I left her there while I went to get changed. I even made her a cup of coffee to wake her with.

I realised she had gone when i felt her hand, it was stone cold. She looked so peaceful.

It took time, as it should, to get over it, but as they always say, time is a great healer.

I got stuck into my work, got promoted four times in seven years, became a real hard bastard, took no shit from anyone. They called me Mister Ruthless at the transport firm, anyone stepped out of line, they dealt with me, then they were gone.

Twelve years!

Where has it gone, who have I become. Certainly not the person she knew, that one's gone with the washing, that's for sure. A new me, yes, but not a better one.

She'd hate me now.

So time to change, time to grow up again, even at the age of 53. We can all do it, of course we can.

So today I did some things, I packed in my job, said goodbye, no notice, just gone. The money wasn't really important anyway. The hard bastard has gone, gone off to be a nice man again.

The house went up for sale today as well, no more looking back, time to take on the world again, but in a better place this time.

I've just booked my first holiday in twelve years, I'm off to travel for three months. Far East, New Zealand, Australia, and then, who knows!

She'd be proud, really proud!