I have one thought about 'missing you' in my head, and it's pretty precious. It makes me a bit teary, but here I go anyway.

In the mid '90's, just before I had Jarrah, I met this guy who I fell head over heels in love with. It was a little bit crazy. We both were living in a caravan park in Gracetown, WA. We were there because we were doing the grape picking season there - early rises, afternoons on the beach, communal dinners where I'd take 2 bucks off everyone and go into Margaret River to get ingredients to make a huge curry or chilli by the fire. Good times. He was English - from Essex I believe - and gorgeous. We had such a fun time together - we were smitten, but kinda wild at the same time, so he or I would disappear for a bit and go and hang out or sleep with other people and then come and laugh about it with each other the next time. Like, 'where the hell did you go last night lol' and we'd sit and crack each other up over the stupid things we did whilst drinking far too many jugs of beers. Ah, being young and wild. We had a lot of fun together, surfing, picking grapes, cooking, sitting around doing not much at all.

I bought him this ring, a silver celtic knot thing and I always remember saying 'I'll be at a bar in the Uk and look across and see it and we'll meet again' kinda thing. We were totally devastated to part ways. I drove up north to Kalbarri to meet my girlfriend and he was headed back to the UK in a couple of weeks. Anyway, so me and her are staying in the backpackers and I'm up in the middle of the night thinking: far out, I'm never going to see him again? So I walk out super quiet and leave Tam a note to take the car and I'll meet her in Gnaraloo or Carnarvon, and I got out the door at dawn and hitched all the way back to Gracetown. I couldn't tell her I was planning it as she'd kill me but I couldn't stop thinking about him. I remember ringing her from a phone box to say sorry.

It took 9 hours to get back and three lifts. Because it was WA, everyone had dope in their glovie so by the time I got back to Gracetown it's pretty much dark and I'm so stoned I'm really, really embarrassed that I've done this. What the hell is the guy going to say - he'd surely think me totally bananas. I'm hiding behind a BUSH, and I can see everyone sitting by the fire. It took me two hours to walk over and say 'Hi', as casual as. He was rapt - threw his arms around me. It was the kinda crazy thing he would do as well, so he totally loved that I did that for him.

By this time, everyone else had gone their separate ways and the grape picking season was well and truly over. We spent a blissful week together before he flew back to the UK.

I've spent my entire life missing that guy. He wasn't the love of my life - my husband is - but he taught me that lovers could be friends, and have a ridiculous amount of fun together, which paved the way for the kind of relationship I have with Jamie.

Every now and then I internet stalk him, but I cant' find him anywhere. There's no trace. I wonder if he's dead, or if he's just anti Facebook or social media. I wonder if he's fat with three kids and a wife he loves or hates, or whether he's still that free, tanned guy I met, on a beach somewhere, shelling mussels, surfing.

The way the world is now, I doubt it. I miss the time when those things seemed possible.

I believe I wasn't meant to see him again, and that being with him paved the way for the goodness to follow, but I will spend the rest of my days missing him like hell, and not thinking about him at all.

Actually, I get all choked up in my heart even thinking about this. I'm a bit of a romantic at heart I guess.

I might write a post about it and clean up the stream of conciousness unedited mess of this comment, and find that one photo I have of him in a box somewhere...