Armrests, a war of attrition.

So I'm on the train, finally, and amazed by the novelty of having the internet on a train. I toyed with not coming for hours this morning and by the time I decided i would get the train I had half an hour in which to pack and make it to the station. Running with a trolley, a rucksack and a guitar with 20-a-day lungs and only a cheese sandwich 2 and a half days ago for energy was agony.

I made it with a few seconds to spare. The train of course, didn't get there for another 45 minutes. The joys of heinsight. The reward however was a phonecall from Char. Hearing me out of breath she knew instantly that i'd nearly missed the train haha. I love knowing she reads me like a book.

She's unsettled by the finality of last nights discussions, as am I, but i have buried my fears of dejection and pain for the greater good of letting Char be happy, which i so desperately want. My selfishness up until now has been crippling for any progress she could make and I feel terrible about it.

Knowing that she too despises the finality of our situation is comforting, not only for my craving for her to be even a small part of my life, but in that we share a common goal. Neither of us want the other to forget, but both of us know that my refusal to leave her be is detremental to progress.

She says that I can text her every now and again, to let her know how I am. Its hard though for me to know what is crossing the line under that instruction, when can I text? what can i text? how often?

My desire isn't to force upon her declarations of progress (or lack of) in texts or messages, which I know I have been doing for the past few weeks as a desperate act, that being the only medium in which i can communicate with her. My desire is that one day she will want to know how I am, just as I wonder where she is and what she's doing, and wether she is happy or not.

Thats why I gave her the address to this journal, so that I wouldnt have to force myself on her, that she could check up on me when she is curious, or cares, and so that ultimately I could realistically leave her alone.

Then Char said to me that she also hates the finality, because what if maybe one day she wants to tell me how she is, or what she is doing. This struck with me, not once have I thought that maybe one day she would want to contact me with news, rather than just hear about me or me pester her for updates on her life. I didn't think she saw herself maybe one day caring enough to want me to have that priveledge.

I guess i was wrong. Thats something to smile about! And something to cement my determination to succeed in the changes happening in my life. I want to deserve it, and I want it to make her happy.

So here I am. Sat in her seat. Doing her journey, ironically wearing her jumper (unintentionally may I add); but something inside me has a hope for the future that I lacked up until today. A hope for equilibrium.