When I get off the train I will be on the train platform in your home town, where you have been hundreds of times before.
But you'll never be there again.
I've been in your home town before, but never with you in it. You were never in my home town. There wasn't enough time.
I've spoken to you loads of times when you were at home and so was I. But we won't again.
It always feels strange walking along the platform in your home town, knowing the last photo you text me was a selfie from that very platform. With no knowledge it was the last time you'd be there. Or anywhere in this world.
Tomorrow I will walk along the platform in my home town again. If I'm anywhere.