Fifteen mother-flipping years...

A long time ago, when the century was still pretty new and shiny, i started seeing London's premier Dommetrex.

I didn't know her as that then, and it took a good few years for my terror in her presence to abate. But it did and over the years, and as circunstances have changed and allowed, Miss (not her real name) has become a true friend. 

Soon it will be 15 years. Fifteen of the mother f'ing years alluded to in the title. That is a very scary number but also very comforting. With the exception of my SO, it's the longest relationship of my life. Not the longest friendship but certainly the longest where i have regularly lost my trousers or had them replaced with panties...

Miss it has been a happy time, notwithstanding the occasional great sadnesses. But we keep their spirits with us in our memories and our actions, which are so often echoes of their lives. In our playful banter, which echoes his sharp wit. In my loyalty and service which is but a reflection of he who came after but went before. Happy echoes i hope, that show respect and love for those lost.

Throughout there has been you. Terrifying and sweet. Angry and yet lovable. Sharing experiences i will remember when i remember little else (what weirdnesses will i shout at random if I'm lucky enough to make it to the nursing home)? 

You have been an amazing part of my life Miss - thank you.

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