Diary Entry – October 10, 2024
Today I ended up going to Southport on the bus. It’s been years since I’ve wandered those streets, but as soon as I stepped off, it was like I was transported back in time. I walked down the pier, past the fair, and along the promenade where all the arcades are, the same ones where I spent hours as a teen. Memories came flooding back of the friends I had back then, faces I haven’t seen in years, and I wondered what became of them. We were a wild bunch, always scheming and pulling little stunts, like selling tickets outside rides for quick cash, just to feed our obsession with the game machines inside.
I still remember being hooked on that boxing simulator. I’d spend hours there, punching until my knuckles were raw, hands shaking like jelly when I was done. It felt like I couldn’t walk away, like I had something to prove to myself—or maybe I just needed the distraction back then.
After passing the fairground, I headed down the promenade and into town, walking towards Churchtown, where I used to live in that kids’ home. My mind drifted back to 1996, just after I’d burnt the house down. That was a rough time, bouncing from place to place, but Churchtown is where they put me up in temporary accommodation. The old building’s gone now, demolished, with new houses standing in its place. Even though the building’s no longer there, the memories still feel as vivid as ever.
I kept walking, carried by some invisible pull, until I found myself in the courtyard of the street where my old girlfriend used to live. She was my first love, though I was too young to understand what that even meant back then. I was reckless and didn’t know how to treat her, or myself, for that matter. As I stood there, memories of that time flooded in, like when I got trapped by that gang of kids and had to be rescued by the carer. It’s strange how certain moments can stick with you so vividly.
I knocked on her old door. Part of me knew she wouldn’t be there anymore, but I felt like I owed that place an apology. Maybe it was more for me than for her. I carried that guilt around for years, regret for how I acted, for not being the person she deserved. I imagined what I’d say to her if she was still there. How I’d apologize, release all that shame, and finally make peace with it. I’m sure she’s long moved on, probably has a family by now, and doesn’t even think about those days, but they’ve lingered in my mind for so long.
Today, I felt like I could finally let go. I thanked her, in my own way, for the lessons her presence in my life brought. And I left my blessings for her, wherever she is. I didn’t need to see her. I just needed to be there, to stand in that space, and let those memories fade into the past where they belong. It’s time to move on.