To Leighton,
I feel like it’s been ages since I wrote to you. I don’t know why I didn’t the other day when I was having a really bad one, probably because I didn’t know what to say. There was nothing I could have said to make that day better.
I hope you didn’t think I was a twat on Friday night. I was just already thinking of you and then Coldplay (already very emotional) came on, and it was ‘Look at the stars, look how they shine for you, and everything you do’ and I just couldn’t stop myself. Because you’re our star. I tried hard to keep it in because everyone was looking at me, but that just meant I had to sob it out when I got back.
It’s not getting easier, in fact I think it’s getting worse. Maybe because I’m away, I don’t know. But I can’t wait to go home and get your t shirt that Lydia got me from your house. I think Mum said it was an Arla one. I wish I was at home so I could see the Arla lorries, because I’ve got no hope seeing one here. Or if I did, I’d definitely know it was you sending it.
I’m gonna have to have a steak for you tonight, I just wish I could have some processed peas instead of normal with it. I think I’m sort of growing to like them.
I hope you don’t mind that I might be stealing one of your bedside tables. I’ll look after it, I promise. I’m hoping that I may be able to have a few of your DVD’s to be honest, because that’s what we really had in common, our love of films. I’m not going to ask for them though, because it’s whatever your Mum and Uncle Rowan want to do with them, I’m just hoping a few of them might make it my way.
I’m never going to stop missing you.
I love you with all my heart, forever and always.
God bless
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