Sunday 20 October 2013

Don't You Forget About Me

On Thursday, I believe I did something which will undoubtedly make it into the inevitable biopic of my life: having not seen Freya for 16 months, something in my head snapped and I decided that this had gone on too long.
You see, I did not have her mobile number, email address or Facebook, and she never comes on Skype, so I knew drastic measures were necessary. To that end, I put on my extremely fetching wellington boots, and marched to where I thought she lived- I'll be honest, I wasn't entirely sure of the address. One glance through her second floor window from street level confirmed that I was at the right place- Freya has huge chunks of trees scattered haphazardly about her abode, a decorating motif that I believe is fairly unique- so, now I just had to play the waiting game. I won't say how long I waited outside her window, with the lit lightbulb as my only clue that she was even in, but the same man did walk past me twice, and gave me a look which suggested I was standing on the street for a longer time than is normal.
Now, I know that in certain circumstances, standing outside someone's home in the fleeting hope of seeing them is pretty creepy, but I think this was not the case here because: A) Freya had not rejected me, told me to stay away or expressed a preference for not seeing me (quite the opposite, in fact) B) if she had told me to leave, I would have C) I didn't remember which flat number she was, so I couldn't buzz up D) I had literally no other way of contacting her.
Anyway, eventually Freya passed fleetingly by the window, and I started to wave. She completely missed me and went back to where I couldn't see her (as previously stated, her flat was on the second floor, so I had to stand at the opposite side of the road to see anything). At this point, I had to make a choice whether to stay, or head home and start my sociolinguistics essay. I decided to wait it out.
About ten minutes later, Freya walked by the window again, and this time, much to the shock of the man walking past, I started doing star jumps and waving my arms about my head like a man possessed. Freya paused. The man walking past hurried his step. I started to point emphatically at my head, meaning 'IT'S ME!'. Freya looked confused, and opened up her foggied window. The look on her face was amazing; it was a mixture of complete surprise and total joy. She shouted to me 'COME UP!' and I shouted back 'I TRIED, YOUR DOOR'S LOCKED!', she disappeared from view and I heard the familiar buzz of a front door unlocking.
I jogged up and reached the top of the stairs just as she opened the door, and we embraced each other the way friends do when they haven't seen each other for far too long. She welcomed me in, despite the relatively late hour and complete unexpectedness of my visit; her mother was there too- she and I met once during Fringe in first year, but she greeted me like a long-lost son.
Freya and I drank, we went to a birthday party of her drum teacher and caught up with one another to a degree, but it's difficult to cover a year in a couple of hours, so we promised to meet again soon. I owe Freya quite a lot of alcohol, so she has a good incentive to see me again.

P.S. It should be noted, for posterity's sake, that we met again the next day in the meadows quite by chance, rendering my little window stunt quite unnecessary. Oh well, it'll make a nice visual for the movie.

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