‘And I,
I hope for your life
You forget about mine’
-
Small Hands, Keaton Henson
Dear Falmouth, I’m breaking up with you. This probably hasn’t come as much of a shock. We’ve been growing distant for some time now. You’ve been cold, with bitter winds and long dark nights. In return, I’ve been snarky, telling you how much I wish I was somewhere else. We’ve argued over and over about your dire transport links and my need to keep moving, how your weather turns sour the minute I make plans. But it was always worth it for bright summer days on Maenporth and warm winter nights all crammed into someone’s too-small kitchen or living room. That is, until, last year. With the pandemic came greater resentment. Choosing between you, my family, and my partner has led me to more than one late night spent crying in my bed. All the things I used to love about you have been ruined; your bustling cafes have stilled, your pubs for folk dancing shut down, and the beauty of seeing all of my friends up and down the one high-street… Gone.
Catching glimpses of what you used to be is what makes this so bittersweet. Today, I walked to Gylly with Mae. We sat, drank tea, read, and stared out at the sea. It reminded me of all the hundreds of times I’d sat there before, sea glass clutched in my palms, hands digging deep into my pockets to fight the cold. So many memories, contained to one small cliff-coddled beach.
I can’t help feeling that so much of our time and potential was lost. We had barely a year and a half together, what with me travelling home between semesters; and yet in that time I felt as if our hearts beat as one. Even if you had asked me eight, nine months ago, I would’ve said I could never leave you. Now, my evenings are filled with Rightmove and Zoopla, trying to pick between cost, location and quality. Did we ever worry about these things?
Still, I know this isn’t the end. We will meet at parties, funerals and weddings. Like every other ex, we will share awkward laughter and discuss the before-times, before we became different people with different needs. We were happier than we are now, and we’ll be happier someday than we were then. But, until then, I am going to leave you this letter, and hope we both start to feel as if we can move on.
Always and forever a little bit yours,
Charlie x
Comments