Well, J is on his way back to London... actually, I think he's currently on his way to Sydney, before heading to Singapore, and THEN on to London... but you get the idea.
And interestingly enough, this is the first time I've been to see him off where he's actually left through the "International" gates, rather than being on a Domestic flight to Sydney, then taking the International flight from there. So of course that meant that he got felt up by some old guy in a guard's uniform... and the last five minutes of our conversation was conducted via charades through soundproof glass...
It's always weird... I see him go through the gates, I watch him head down the ramp to get on the plane (okay, not this time, but last time certainly), I know he's going, but it doesn't really hit me right away that I won't be seeing him for another six, nine, twelve, eighteen months or whatever.
Maybe it's because by the time he's going back I'm kind of ready for him to be gone... which sounds nasty, but I'm going to file it under "you never want to have too much of a good thing", because that sounds better.
He's a dear, stupid, annoying, lovable, infuriating, twisted, frustrating, sweet boy... and I'll miss him (eventually)...