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Watching The West Wing box set

16 February 2012

The West Wing box set
Jane loved The West Wing. No, not loved. Adored. She got me in to watching it. It was just such a reflection of her intelligence that a 23 year old student would love that show. She got me in to it as well. We watched it whenever we could but would often miss it on tv. Over the years, I often found her drooling over the 7-season box set in the shops. I would offer to buy it, she would refuse because it was too expensive.

Today I bought the box set for a mere £59.

As I sit here watching it, I am in floods of tears. Maybe it is the bottle of Rum making me tearful. Maybe. But more than anything else it is Jane. It is not the thought of missing her. What is upsetting me tonight as I watch her favourite show, is knowing what it would have been like if I had bought her this West Wing box set earlier.

We would have had the cheese & crackers out. And the red port. Or the Jack Daniel's & Coke.
We would have curled up on the sofa.
We would have sat close together.
We would have discussed her small crush on Alison Janney.
Jane would have rested her head on my lap.
We would have watched The West Wing whilst I played absentmindedly with her hair, stroking her face.
At about 5pm, I would have reached over and covered Jane with a fleece blanket that used to live next to the sofa.
We would have looked at the clock hours later and realised a whole day had gone without us getting up, turning the lights on or even go for a pee.
Jane would have fallen asleep around 7pm, still with her head on my lap.

I would have bent over to kiss her cheek.
I would have looked at her sleeping face and feel an overwhelming sense of love. A sense of forever. A sense of past, present and future, all rolled in to the person now sleeping in my arms.

That is what I am missing right now.

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