10 years.

10 years ago I was working in an office just outside London.  The job bored me but I kind of liked it.  The people were nice.  I was the happiest I had ever been in my life.  I was madly in love with a beautiful boy who loved me; we had been inseparable for over a year, the longest relationship I had ever had.  In fact, I say ‘madly in love’ but it was the least mad I had ever been.  We had been to Paris and the countryside together; we had a summer holiday planned.  We cooked dinner and watched a film most nights – rented from the video shop, back in those days.  I stayed at his house and took an hour-long bus journey to work every day, even though I lived within walking distance of my office, just so I could see him every night.  We were looking for a flat to live in together.

I saw the BBC news website at work that morning.  As in offices everywhere that day, we were glued to it, put the radio on, called friends and family.  My mum was driving into central London and had to turn back.  My best friend and her boyfriend were stranded and paid £200 for a taxi home.  A lady I worked with had a son in the Met Police.  Thankfully, they were all fine.  We were so lucky.

I was 24.  I would get happier and happier and then sadder and then who knows?  Me and that boy moved to Brighton and we lived together for 11 years.

I wish I could go back there, to when I was 24.  I wish I knew how it would end for all of us.  Maybe everyone does.

But I know we were so lucky.