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AWOL.COM/Alice Edwards’ Travel Blog
5 July – 9.07 a.m.
Hey everyone,
After staying in Thailand much longer than I intended, I’ve finally moved on. This next bit of my journey is going to be tough, but – I hope – pretty special and important.
Anyway, I just popped on here to say thank you so much to Eva and Clara for being incredible people. I had a truly greattime with you both and I can’t wait to see you again soon.
But that’s not to say it was all good. There’s good and bad in everything, always. Just wanted to add that point.
That’s it for now.
Axx
3 Comments · 149AWOLs · 157 Super Likes
COMMENTS:
Jeremy Stail
|Thank you for everything, Alice. Good luck with where you’re going. x
Eva Slate
Replying to Jeremy Stail
|Miss you, Alice. Thank you so much for this past week, you know what it meant to me.
Hannah Edwards
|where r u now?!!!!!!!!
I am standing outside an unfamiliar door, with all too familiar people inside. But I cannot knock. I’ve been standing here fortwenty-five minutes and I can’t do it. I can’t remember the last time I was this afraid.It seems silly to say I am afraid to be unafraid, but that’s all it is. Being a coward is safe, I want to stay there. I don’t want to be brave. But my heart cannot take much more of this. I can feel it thumping loudly in my chest every time I reach for the door. Panic seizes me again and I step back.
OK, I can’t stand here forever. This is it now. I can do this.
I reach again for the door,but as I do, I hear movement inside – and I bolt. I run away, away, away, away, and I don’t slow down until I am out of breath,red-faced and sweating.
Which, to be fair, only took about forty seconds but still, it is long enough to be out of sight of my mum’s house.
Jesus, what’s wrong with me?
I came all this way, am I really not strong enough to see this through? To see her? Tosay sorry? Am I that pathetic?
I glance around and spot a coffee shop across the road. I will have a coffee. That will help calm me. Calm me in a much twitchier,pug-eyed,too-much-caffeine kind of way.
Opening the door, I stop short at the sight of a young woman at the nearest table. She is on her laptop and for a second I think we must’ve gone to school together. She is familiar, butunfamiliar. Someone I know very well, but also not at all.
OH MY GOD. I know who it is! It’s Constance. Constance Beaumont.THE BLOGGER. Ohmygod, she is amazing, I love her so much.
Except, she is a bit greyer than in her pictures. She’s in a thin tracksuit and glasses. Not exactly her usual floatyCoachella-type style. I mean, I’m not a total idiot, I knew there would be filters and qualitycontrol on the shots, but – wait – her eyes aren’t even green. How did she do that?
She’s still beautiful and cool though, still glowing. Do I dare speak to her? I want to tell her how much she’s inspired me. I want to tell her about my recent travels. I want to impress her.
‘Um, excuse me?’ I say timidly, aware she must get this all the time and probably hates it. She turns and looksat me blankly.
