So. It is 4am, or near enough, and I have to be up in six hours because my sister is flying out to Amsterdam and my family want us all to have brunch together before she goes.
I will see my best friend for the last time tomorrow. The farewells have been staggered - a raucous night at the pub a week ago with some friends, a New Year’s Day party with a few bartender friends, and tomorrow I’ll be spending my afternoon and evening with Joe. Joe, who I’ve known for nearly twelve years, who has already begun a foray into some respectable career, who will always feel connected to me on some visceral level. I have hated Joe in the way you hate a brother - with love burning behind your eyes. I’ve had plenty of horrifying arguments with people who turned out to be enemies, but with Joe we developed a safe space to be utterly terrible people. As long as you get the balance right, there’s value in something like that.
The last friend I will see is Jack, who I have known for nearly six years now. That comes on Thursday. Other than that, the week ahead is barren - my parents are working, my friends are scattered to all ends of the country or the places they work, and I will be left staring at this countdown.
There are blessings and curses in knowing how long you have to wait. A rise in anxiety, but a dissolution of the cloud of depression.
Not long now. Just a few more days.