The Milks have just come back from a sejourn in Manchester. Mr Milk and myself lived there for 11 years. In fact we met there. We came to London when i had big Milk because we wanted to be near our families, but it was, and is, with a divided heart.
We’ve done alright in London, and we adore being nearer to our families. In truth we wouldn’t and couldn’t move away again. But boy do we miss our friends. When you become parents in a new area, you do make friends but separately. I have lots of mummy friends, but with the exception of a few i never see them outside school times. Firmly “first base friendships”.
Likewise Mr Milk has made good friends at work, and they might down a few pints after work sometimes, but the relationship ends there.
So if me and Mr Milk ever go out, it’s always on our own, which is lovely of course, but it is a bit one dimensional. There’s nothing quite like the fun you have with a crowd; it takes the pressure off you as a couple and allows you to explore and enjoy other facets of yourself. There’s nothing like looking across the table at your partner sharing a joke with your friends and thinking “Phwaor, you’ve still got it honey”.
So we miss our shared group of friends in Manchester, and it was with thick glasses of nostalgia and longing that we trundled back down the M6.
But life has moved on. In truth, it’s not just geographical distance that has changed things, so much as life itself. We’re all parents now, short of time and low on energy. Gone are the days as students when we spent all of our waking time in the pub giggling into our watered down pints of Fosters. I’m not so sure we left them behind in Manchester, as much as they grew up, just as we did.
Still, we can’t wait for our next trip up North guys, so put the Fosters on ice.