Why I said goodbye to the Pilot…

Posted on July 16, 2013


I have just realised that I never explained the story of why I am not seeing The Pilot anymore.

I think I last mentioned that he blew me out because his head was in a mess last Wednesday.

I didn’t get back to his messages and gave it some space for a day. Then on Thursday dropped him a text saying I reckoned he probably ought to spend his final few weeks with his friends and family and that we shouldn’t overly complicate things. We ended up talking on the phone, whilst he had stopped at a service station whilst riding his bike down to Portsmouth – and effectively we said our goodbyes.

The tone was very much that it was fun whilst it lasted – but it seemed crazy getting into something just before he’s about to leave.

And technically, he just couldn’t find any spare days to see me once he had realised he only had two weeks left.

I think his ex girlfriend was messing with his head too, and I told him he probably ought to prioritise seeing her over me, and that he should treat her with as much kindness as he could bare, because it must be awful for her having him leave the country when he finished it with her to boot.

I don’t know what it is about goodbyes, but i’m terrible at them.

They can make me feel a bit lost after.

I have always had an issue with goodbyes and when people leave at work I would rather disappear to the loo around ‘hugging’ time because sometimes it really hits a nerve with me and I can get a bit teary.

Sometimes with people I barely even had a connection with.

I think it must stem back to my childhood, as from the age of 7 I was sent away to boarding school and so goodbyes actually meant being ripped from the bosom of my family to go live with back with the nuns. And I would always cry my eyes out when saying goodbye at the airport, even if up until that point I hadn’t actually felt any emotion, as soon as it was crunch time and my mum and dad would look at me as if they were never gonna see me again, it would wrench out my guts and this wave of horrendous sadness would wash over me and I would cry and cry and cry until I had gone through passport control and couldn’t see them anymore. And then the crying would just stop.

So I felt a bit sad about saying goodbye to The Pilot, because for say maybe two weeks of my life I had been the most me, with a guy. Possibly ever in my life.  Because he was leaving, I never felt like I had to conceal anything, play any games, or be mysterious in anyway. And the pilot was fairly mirror-like in his approach too. And we talked about all this, and were really open about so many things – almost everything. Our 10 hour long dates meant that we probably fitted 4 dates into each one, so technically we were as if we were on date 16 by the time we ended day 4. Which for some people, might be a 3 month period of seeing one another.

Whilst I don’t expect he felt sad himself (I think it was apparent his head was a bit all over the shop) I do think our brief encounter mattered to him and that he felt a bit frustrated that the timing was so bad. We did get on, extraordinarily well. Even if he’s a self confessed philanderer I genuinely liked him and had a lot of fun with him.

It was nice having a bit of romance, even if it was short lived.

Posted in: Journal