It Really Is Hard On The Knees

Eight years ago, we travelled to the city of the smelly marble mausoleum. We were strangers in a strange house, guests of a nanchuk-weilding boor of an acquaintance. We stayed up nights, drank our sickly sweet chais and made right royal asses of ourselves. It was a strange and wonderful holiday – we laughed and gossiped and were laughed at and gossiped against.

We were teenagers in a big, bad city back then; a city we fought and loved and detested together. Our friends were our family, and therefore instinctively knew everything we tried to hide from them. We frustrated our parents and barely knew our teachers, but we were the happiest we have ever been.

That was a long time ago. We spent the next five years away from each other. We were always just a phone call away, but no closer. We made all the smart decisions, but we cursed ourselves for being prize chumps. Our lives were a convoluted mess of last-minute train tickets, sleepy airport lounges and fictitious trips to Sikkim with “the guys”.

Yesterday, we had enough. Yesterday, we decided we wanted more. Yesterday, I asked her to marry me, and she said she would. And today the world makes perfect sense again.

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Plain White T’s – Hey There Delilah [mp3]

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