I left Phitsanulok with a heavy heart that Wednesday morning, still wearing her perfume from the tearful goodbye outside Naresuan University. We were both trying not to show it, but it was easy to see that we were both fighting back tears, which was unusual for such a short connection.

I dreamt back to the months before on Facebook and Skype, and realised that this connection was perhaps deeper than I had initially assumed. Over the course of the last few months I had been so caught up in getting to know this girl that I had stopped paying attention to the passage of time.

Over the course of the next 5 hours, instead of catching up on much needed sleep I relived that weekend over and over, and played back the events of the last few months, trying to make sense of what happened.

I arrived back in Rangsit shortly after noon and took a van down to the house. The house was abandoned save for the two cats, which was a welcome surprise. I unpacked my bag and plugged in my laptop and pulled out my notepad and started to write again for the first time in almost a year. I wrote about her.

Saturday's gone, but I know where I'm going next Saturday.

Blue Monday, Final Tuesday

I awoke on Monday to the smell of fresh coffee and a naked girl. She crept up next to me in bed, and we fell asleep again as our coffee got cold. It was a public holiday, and it was to be our last day together. I bathed in her perfume as I dreamt of all that was and could be.

We stirred around noon, and tried to find a place that was open for lunch. We had no plans for the day, and most places were closed, so we decided to try and find some liquor and spend the rest of the day in the room. We drove to maybe 5 or 6 places trying to find someone willing to sell, but alas - no luck.

I tried my luck one last time at the hotel, and to our surprise the hotel was more than willing to accommodate our sacrilege. We sat on the patio outside the room drinking Leo, smoking and talking and listening. We could talk for hours about nothing, and it was wonderful.

The sun set on Phitsanulok and we realised my time was growing short, so we sullenly set out to get me a ticket back to the concrete jungle of Krung-Thep, even though I no longer had any desire to return. We tried to get a bus ticket in town, but they were sold out. Shit. We tried to get a van, but they were sold out. Shit.

Fuckit, I said. I'll stay another day I thought - my Tuesday class had already been cancelled for some reason or another. I would depart early Wednesday morning. I bought a ticket to Bangkok for 8am Wednesday morning, content in the fact that I had at least one more day here.

She wasn't going to waste this chance, and decided to call in sick on Tuesday.

We would have another full day together... and there was no way it was going to be the last.

Rainforest Resort

Our plans to visit Wat Pha Sorn Kaew were curbed by the rain, and we had neglected to lunch, so we turned around. We left Route 12 in the pitter-patter of light rain, sailing once more across the smooth highway. The roads in Thailand aren't normally very well maintained, so this was a rare treat. I was content to stop at any old place along the road that served Thai food, but Fairy had something specific in mind, so we ignored our hunger and drove on.

As we passed the waterfall again she started to slow down and we pulled into a parking lot of the Rain Forest Resort, a beautiful lodge on the Khek riverbank.

If you ever get a chance, it's worth checking out. It's a luxury resort next to the Kangsong waterfall, surrounded by the lush Thai tropical rainforest of the Thung Salaeng Luang National Park. The pampered cottages are sprawled out between each other, nestled discreetly in the forest in perfect harmony with nature. The distance between them offers a sense of privacy and solitude. We wandered down through the resort and came to the river, where we settled in an open-air sala.

Upon request the staff appeared, bearing beer and exquisite club sandwiches. We were hungry, but both of us looked in shock at the sheer size of the portions on the plate in front of us.

We languidly lazed about on this Sunday in the sala, talking, eating, drinking, soothed by the soft, sensual sounds of the river running over rocks. It was tranquil, and it made me hate Bangkok. I did not want to leave this place. If this was what Phitsanulok had to offer, I never wanted to leave. I thought back to a line from a song by Mark Lanegan & Isobel Campbell, "You can't stay, but you'll never leave..." and realised this was exactly how I felt about both Phitsanulok, and the little fairy lying beside me.

The sun began to set and we made our way back to the car, briefly stopping by the aviary as we awaited the bill- they keep a few macaws and pheasants in there.

The town is only a fourty minute drive away, and soon we were at our hotel. The time we had together was growing short, so we spent the rest of it lazing about, simply enjoying each others company.

She left around 11pm and went back to her mother's house, called me once she got into bed to say goodnight.

"Can you tell me a bed-time story?"