To borrow from the King himself*
"I'm left, you're right, he's gone."
Well depsite having known this day was coming for quite some time - ie approximately the last two years. It has finally arrived, and earlier this afternoon Mr Half and an utterly ridiculous amount of kit were deposited in the Platoon Stores on camp for onward transportation to Afghanistan.
Most of the previous day people who work on campus were busy telling me that I would be emotional when I dropped him off, or that I'd miss him instantly. Clearly these people don't know me as well as they thought, since I gave him nothing but abuse as I drove him to camp over the state he was leaving our home in. Even more abuse for his ill treatment of my poor little car (how dare he slam her door in to a hedge etc). When he hopped back in to the car so I could be escorted off camp he had to be remineded that as yet he'd not given me his BFPO address yet had managed to give it to his family and assorted friends... which was pretty much the last thing we said to one another before I drove away.
Y'know while I don't regret that I didn't tell him I love him, nor do any of the lovey dovey mushy stuff some other women might what I do regret is that I missed the first three phone calls he made to the house as I choose to go home, get changed and go for a 4 mile run. On the other hand the answer phone messages were highly amusing since it transpires failed to pack several items such as - head phones for his MP3, issued sun glasses, issued goggles and apparently some component of his webbing.
*Sigh* at some point I have no doubt these items will reappear and I'll be able to post them on to him but seriously what sane person takes an MP3 and no headphones, surely they are effectively a single unit item?
*Pick a King Elvis or Tom with James Dean Bradfield
