Awake all night.
Lying staring into darkness.
It no longer sounds like rain outside, more like gurgling and glugging. Drains overflowing, puddles growing. I want the house to float away somewhere else.
Even the 4am owls are quiet tonight.
I scroll through instagram, a little window into a bright world of blue skies and mountains and life. I see you staring back at me, smiling. I can't smile back.
Up. Writing lists. Packing lists to be precise. When we knew each other, but before we got together, I remember putting a photo up of a packing list for Saunders Mountain Marathon on instagram. You "borrowed" it to tick off your own kit list a few miles away. We looked for each other at midcamp, but didn't find one another. I think I worried a bit, until I found your name on the Day 1 finishers list. You'd done the same for me.
I try to write a list of things. Things that are bigger, more important than what to take away this weekend. I'm still sat at the first pencilled in bullet point. Blank.
Back to what to take away this weekend. Dry bags and bikepacking luggage ready to be fitted to a bike. Spare clothes. A night in the van to begin. It's not with you, and I try not to let that bother me. I did this before you, I'm going away with a good friend, and I'm looking forward to it. It will be fun. I don't need to convince myself of this, which makes a nice change now I come to think about it.
The main road is gradually getting noisier. Were this not mid-winter there would be at least a hint of light already in the sky. Today already feels like one of those days it won't get light.