This morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about LadyBohemia and how I brushed off lunch with her to go to Glasgow. That got me thinking about being nervous about seeing HP in Glasgow, but he wasn’t even there, because he’s on bereavement leave because his father died.
I don’t know why ‘’m recounting all this. You’ve been reading the blog.
But I can’t stop thinking about the series of events. I didn’t know LadyBohemia for long, but…well…walking to work today I noticed that the leaves on a bush down the street from my flat were a darker green than they were a week ago. I noticed that they’re bigger, and that the brown bark has white flecks across it.
I wanted to ask LadyBohemia what kind of tree it was, and this made me think about how much I miss her. Which circled me back to thinking about HarryPotter and the fact that I’ve completely abandoned him as a friend when he needed me. Yes, I didn’t know his Dad was sick, but I should have been his friend and listened to him. I shouldn’t have made stupid assumptions.
I need to talk to HarryPotter and give him my condolences. I know ‘condolences’ sounds a bit formal, but I’m not sure how else to say it. But I can’t call out of no where (and he hasn’t responded to my blog, but he’s probably not reading my blog just now, as I’m sure he’s got enough on his mind).
So I texted him instead: Just heard about your Dad. I’m so sorry. Give me a ring if you ever want to talk.
I hope he calls back.