I know it hasn’t been long but I miss you…
I’m sitting here in the balmy tropical heat of Brisbane with the sun gently kissing my skin and a river front breeze caressing my face, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m wondering, when will I see you again? I long to hear your rough, character-filled and familiar voice, to smell the pungent Liffey that flows inside you, and to touch the cobblestones and potholes that dimple your aged and uneven face.
I miss your offensive charm and unabashed ruggedness. I miss the obnoxious, boisterous air you assume after a few pints. I miss the familiar faces we’d pass as I strolled to meet you. I miss the secrets that we shared together on cold, lonely nights. I miss your gritty and dishevelled demeanour and the endless grey clouds that hang above your head. I know you’ve had a lot of people leave you in the past but I wanted to stay. I want go for pints and do the things we used to do. I want to feel like I’m in a John Cusack film again and walk with you in the rain.
Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m fortunate to have Brissy, she’s warm and open. We’ve shared a long history together. She’s well-off and knows how to make a good home, but she’s not you. She doesn’t send shivers down my spine or turn my skin bumpy and blue like you do. She doesn’t serenade me with the sweet songs of her history no matter how dark they might be. She doesn’t welcome me in with open arms even if I’m a stranger to her. She doesn’t question why I’m here and what I’m doing with myself. She doesn’t have that European sensibility that I love.
I know you said it’s over and that we can’t be together anymore but I want to give it another go. I promise to be good. I promise to support you and appreciate you. I’ll contribute to your wealth and ever sing your praises. I’ll be loving and respectful. I’ll stay with you. I know you can’t answer me right now so I’ll be here, waiting, thinking of you Dublin.