The Lost Boy - Chapter 8 – part two - The Beginning of What Was to Come

The return to Southampton was the beginning of this next chapter of my life. Securing that job felt huge, but what mattered just as much were the friends I had here.

They meant a lot to me. This wasn’t just any group — these were Munch’s closest mates, the people he’d laughed with, smoked with, played games with. Being around them gave me comfort, like I was still close to him somehow. But at the same time, it was hard. I saw their struggles in real time, and I carried my own.

Most of our days together were simple: gaming, smoking weed, eating way too much pizza. Life moved in a haze of laughter, screens glowing in the dark, smoke curling through the air. My memories of that time aren’t always sharp. It feels more like a blur of nights that bled into each other — vague, hazy, but still important.

Within this group of friends there was someone else. She wasn’t really part of the main circle — not one of the lads I’d grown close to. From what I remember, she spent more of her time with my older brother.

Looking back now, I can see it clearer: like all of us, she was leaning in. Leaning into the people closest to Munch, searching for some comfort in the loss we’d all suffered. Maybe we were all just holding onto whatever fragments of him we could still find in each other.

She was also quite attractive — younger than me, just eighteen at the time — and I don’t think I was the only one who noticed. To be honest, I made it pretty clear I fancied her. But more than that, she was a good friend. I genuinely enjoyed her company. We got on well, the same way I seemed to with most people in my circle back then.

Through the time I knew her, we grew very close. We’d sit for hours playing Call of Duty, while I smoked shotty pipe after shotty pipe, with the occasional spliff thrown in for good measure. We laughed a lot, from what I remember — and she was better at the game than me too! Haha!

We got deep into conspiracy theories together — obsessed with Spiral Awakening, Planet X, and the Freemasons mostly. We’d share links, videos, bits of information we’d found, piecing it all together like some kind of secret puzzle. I don’t really remember what we believed — or what I believed — but I remember the joint obsession. The shared fascination. The feeling that we were uncovering something the rest of the world was too asleep to see.

She had a job at a bar, and I’d sometimes walk down to meet her when she finished work. It wasn’t unusual for that to happen.

I was definitely more interested in her than she was in me — or at least that’s what I thought. Eventually, I started seeing someone else I’d met online, pretty sure that whatever I felt was one-sided. But over time, little flashes of jealousy started to show. Not enough to say it out loud at first, but enough to feel. Until one day, we talked about it.

I can’t remember exactly whether I ended it with the girl I’d met online because of that conversation, but it’s more than likely.

It’s not to say I didn’t like the other girl. She lived in Portsmouth, and as I said, we’d met online. I’d travel to see her, spend time with her and her kids, and she’d come up to Southampton too — joining me, my friends, and family. We actually got on really well. I got on with her kids too.

But looking back, I think the distance made for an easy excuse when things came to an end. The truth is, it probably had more to do with me having the opportunity to be with the one I really wanted — my friend.

And it wasn’t just about her being younger or more attractive. She was my friend — we had loads in common, we laughed, we connected, and that mattered too.

A big part of what drew me to her wasn’t just the fun, the laughter, or even the attraction — it was her connection. Her connection to Munch. Her love for my family. She seemed to fit in so well, and at the time, that meant everything.

That was the start of a long-term relationship. One that would result in children, and a lot of mess — all of which you’ll learn about as you read on.

I have to be honest — I’m struggling to touch on this part of the story, because I know where it leads. So I’m sorry if it’s short, but it’s what I have this week. And it’s enough to paint the picture of what was happening.

Gareth — still lost, still seeking belonging, still searching for meaningful connection, even when other things weighed heavily on the choices of who to be with.