Whilst i was touched by the turn out, i had spent the previous night in Shoreditch drowning myself in sambucca with friends whilst drawing on the toilet walls in fluorescent nail varnish 'I woz ere noughty 9' needless to say, i was hanging out of my arse.
There's only so many times you can answer the same three questions with a hangover from the pits of hell before you lose it and high five your poor auntie Doris in the nose.
'yes i am excited'
'i stop over in Hong Kong and my flight takes fucking forever'
'no, i'm not just moving to New Zealand for a boy, it's also for the ex-pe-ri-ence'
To make things worse, i had a weeping mother who kept on bursting into tears and asking me if i could 'feel the love' every five minutes. And worst of all, all her crying made me lose my battle witth the throat lump on the final leg at Heathrow airport which meant i had to walk through security with tears and snot streaming down my face. (Duty free Jo Malone helped ease the pain slightly)
And so that was goodbye for a long long time...
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