I come here and imagine that this is the spot where everything I’ve lost since my childhood has washed up. I tell myself if that were true, and I waited long enough, then a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field and gradually get larger until I’d see it was Tommy. He’d wave and maybe call. I don’t let the fantasy go beyond that. I can’t let it. I remind myself I was lucky to have had any time with him at all.

It had never occurred to me that our lives, so closely interwoven, could unravel with such speed. If I’d known, maybe I’d have kept tighter hold of them.

What I’m not sure about is if our lives have been so different from the lives of the people we save. We all complete. Maybe none of us really understand what we’ve lived through.

Or feel we’ve had enough time.

(c) Never let me go.

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Взяло и напросилось.