London > Manchester

London's unloved slouch behind me in the courtyard. It's early morning but the third can of Tennents Super or White Lightning or whatever they are drinking is already in fear of being made extinct. I look forward not back. Forward towards the departure boards, the waiting train and my future. I barely slept last night with the excitement that now, right now, something is happening. Something different. Ian once told me "This is the one you've waited for". There have been a few false dawns but maybe he's finally right.

I board the train and take up my seat next to the window. The greyness of the city contrasts with my mood. Someone sits down at the table opposite me and I smile and give a nod hello. Anger normally fuels me. I run on empty without it. For a while I listened when Marshall asked me "whatever happened to wilding out and being violent?". Not any more though. Where did the anger come from? I don't know. Maybe I do but I don't want to admit it. No - I have to. If you can't even be open in your own mind then when can you? Is it too much to ask that people live up to the high standards I set for myself? Loyalty. Perhaps the most important of all the virtues I hold dear yet so often discarded by those closest to you. Even the slightest betrayal cuts so deep that at times I struggle to accept it.

I'm not running away though. This may be an early morning departure but this journey has been long in the planning. All of the things that needed to be said, all of the things that needed to be done, have been. I have faced up to all of the mistakes that I have made - finally. For an eternity I have been running and making excuses because really, deep down, I know where the anger comes from: fear. I have been trying to escape the burden of being me but that's impossible - I am me. The weight I have carried now for too long - so scared to make a mistake in case I let down those who have such great expectations of me. Don't get me wrong, I want to eventually find happiness like Estella but I don't want to be as damaged as her by the time I do. It's time to embrace life and take some chances. I am not perfect and I know that now. Because that's what's funny - we bottle things up believing that we are the only person with problems. Everybody has issues and it's not wrong that we do but that is what we have to realise.

My eyes open and I look around the carriage. A pretty girl is sat a few rows down. Despite her undoubted beauty she seems uncomfortable and fidgety. I'm sure every day other girls pass her and are jealous of her looks, believing that she has it so much easier than them but how can you be so sure? For all I know she struggles with an eating disorder, confidence issues, an abusive boyfriend. Maybe all of the above, maybe none but something. Something will play on her mind and hinder her living the enjoyable life we all strive for. My gaze alters back to the person sat opposite me across the table. Paul's travelling companion was 9 years old. Mine is the wrong side of 30 but who knows, maybe we too will one day reach our own Graceland.