My name is Aoibh and I’m 18 years old; but as I like to remind people, I’ll be 20 next year. I’m here because we have to say goodbye, before he leaves me alone here, still stuck in school, while he goes out to begin his life. Begin his career. It’s evening. Early. He has a flight to catch in the morning. A red eye. So soon- it’s clear he can’t wait to get away. The shops are all closed, only the corner shops remain open. And the pubs. I have often thought I would stay here forever. I don’t think I could ever live far away from my family. But I also don’t want to live here without him. But I know I have to stay for the next year at least. Get my A-levels, then I can decide. The sun is setting over the river. It’s pretty. Much too pretty and idyllic for what we’re doing here. It should be raining. There should be dark clouds. It shouldn’t be this peaceful. It shouldn’t be a nice pretty evening, it should be storming and dark and grey.
It annoys me that he doesn’t seem sad. He seems eager to go. And I get it, I do. He’s excited to start his job. To become what he’s always wanted to do. But does he not miss me? Why isn’t he as distraught as I am? Does he not care? I could have been going with him I guess. I don’t need A-levels. I could even do them over in England I guess. But as much as I love him I know that I can’t leave. My family and my friends are here. He would be the only thing for me over there. It’s obvious what the smarter choice is. I can hear people laughing as they walk past. On their way to the club, I think. They’re so happy, they’re ready to begin their nights. Yet ours is ending. He has to go.
I want to tell him how I’m really feeling. How it feels like he’s leaving me rather than just this country. But I can’t. I have to be the perfect girlfriend. I have to be strong. I have to be happy for him. I have to support him. I have to say goodbye and promise to phone him tomorrow night when he’s all settled. If I was In charge I would make it less dangerous for him to stay. But as a Catholic it’s too dangerous for him to be a police officer here. Once he’s done his two years and become a detective he’ll come back. But he doesn’t want to be judged by our community for joining the police. For betraying his people.
In my pocket I have the letter he gave me when he left. he said not to open it until he was away. I wonder what it will contain. Should I open it here and risk crying in public or should I wait until I’m in the safety of home? Once my friend asked me why he was doing it. She doesn’t understand, I met her at work. She goes to the other school in town. ‘ can’t he just stay here,’ she asks, ‘ People aren’t as bad as they used to be. I’m sure he’d be grand.’ She doesn’t get it. About the hate he would experience from his friends. Even his own father can’t quite look him in the eye. When people look at me they see a smart overachiever. I’m the family ‘ smart one.’ At a funeral recently my granny introduced me to someone. Some distant cousin I think. ‘ This is Aoibh. She’s the smart one. She’s going to go to Queen’s. She’ll do us all proud.’ That’s all that people really see when they look at me. Earlier today I was talking to Ethan’s sister while I waited for him to get ready. For being a boy, he always takes forever. She’s proud of him. She knows he’ll come back one day and make a real difference.
I have always believed in fate of some kind. Like if something doesn’t happen for you then it was never supposed to. So him moving, I guess is part of the world’s design. I know he’ll come back to me in 2 years time. I’ll be waiting. I know our love will persevere, even if the Irish Sea separated us. I’m proud of him and after reading his letter I know that he’s proud of me too. I know I’ll stay strong.