He'd finally got a reply about his visa; he had to leave the country in August and stay away for at least one full year. He was heartbroken. How could he manage a whole year away from everything that mattered most to him? Being thrown back into the harsh life of England.

He made the most of his last few months spending more time than he ever had with his loved one. It was better between them now than it ever had been. He couldn't face the end though, knowing how much it would hurt him, and her too. He drew into himself at times. Distanced himself from people and his surroundings. A sadness overwhelmed him the day he bought his plane ticket - a tough reminder of the fact that he was leaving. His last three weeks were like a real holiday to him; no work which meant that he had the nights to himself, more often than not in the company of the one he cared for the most. Sometimes he couldn't handle being with her. Knowing what he'd be leaving behind hurt him like an arrow in the heart; clean, precise pain. A few days before he was due to leave she went away on an organised trip. Their parting was long and sad. He promised her he'd be back. She asked him what he'd do without her. He looked straight at her and sadly said, "I really don't know." He really meant it.
"What will you do without me?" he asked.
"Commit suicide," was her reply.
He told her not to do anything as crazy as that. He walked her back to her room where they kissed deeply. A final farewell kiss. They said their goodbyes and then, not really wanting to leave her, he walked slowly back to his own room. He was very close to crying but held it in. Getting to sleep took him a long, long time.

His last day came - how quickly it had seemed to arrive. All his valuable possessions and momentos were safely packed away in his rucksack, leaving behind a room bare and empty, with nothing but memories behind its door. He turned the key in the lock and went to say his goodbyes.