baby please don’t go

london, friends flowing back and forth, settling down with a destructive boyfriend or two, the happiness, newfound stability, weekends away in oxford/cambridge/bath, staying in watching homeland, then sad breakups follow, living in clubs for a while, a few months and back on track making plans for the future, shipping things, hunting faraway flats, packing up and leaving in cars or planes, a sudden disappearance from shared experiences, the mutation of phone numbers. i’ve been attending too many leaving drinks lately. one moment you’re surrounded by friends, everyone dancing to some mad lady with an electric guitar in a forgotten camden irish bar, and the next you’re holding each other tightly saying bye I will miss you baby please don’t go. and they go.

for love, home, adventure or whatever reason. and they give you some free stuff but that’s it.


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