He told me varying amounts of his background throughout our friendship, although I do believe that in the much later years, we drew much closer as friends. It was only after I had read the letter that I realised what a sorry story he had withheld from the world all these years. Unfortunately, I had never taken much interest in his past. For me, the joys of the present were much too compelling. “I guess we should learn to thank a man, when we can”.

As I lay there crying, with only rotten wood between me and the cold, damp earth, my mind drifted back, as if by its own accord, to the first words, that initiated the path of estrangement, that so near, but so far, awaits all of us….

“William, it is not your responsibility, to question whether or not we should move, if you made friends here, you can damn well make friends in the country as well”.

He and his family were always moving for his father’s work. I am unsure why a man in that profession needed to move as much as they did, one can only imagine the real unscrupulous motives he had.

“Now not another word about it, think about your family before you think about yourself son. “

“That’s slightly hypocritical coming from a washed up bank teller, who’s qualified to run the bank, clearly that education paid off”.

His father was an abusive man, as most probably were, but I believe he truly loved will, despite both denying this, and failing to show it. When they moved to the country, Will at first found it greatly difficult to accept the ways of a small town. He described his great contempt of the kind of students we have here, namely the football tragics. Of course, many people know that the thespian and sporting cultures are as rival as France and Germany, namely the differences in orientation.

Will was an avid theatre goer. He would talk with as much passion about Shakespeare as I reckon Shakespeare himself would, but he still grappled with his life, and the life his father wanted him to pursue. He hoped, one day to make it in professional theatre, but one of the sole supporters of his dream, was now a memory. This, I believe truly dropped him on his heart. He didn’t speak much about her, but she was left behind, as this nostalgic world struggled along, unable to forget, let alone look ahead. She alone supported his dream, without her, it became just that.