After almost three years of not writing, I finally felt like putting something down again, nothing big, just a small moment from my life that stayed with me.

I recently got to see Ed Sheeran live in Melbourne. Definitely not a spontaneous thing, because I had to plan it months in advance and grab tickets nearly seven months early just to get close enough. But it was worth it.

I first started listening to him around 2016, with songs like “Give Me Love” and “Photograph.” And when ÷ (Divide) dropped in 2017, I was completely hooked. After that, I didn’t really keep up with every new release (maybe I really do hate math), but some songs still found their way to me over time.

This post is about one of those songs.

There’s something special about hearing a song live that you’ve only ever listened to alone. It used to belong just to you, and suddenly it’s echoing across a stadium full of people. That song for me was “Visiting Hours.” Ed played it as a surprise that night, and it hit harder than I expected.

If you know the background, the song was written for his late friend Michael Gudinski, which made hearing it in Melbourne feel even more meaningful. But I think the thing about music is that it doesn’t stay tied to just one story.

We all kind of rewrite songs in our own way.

For me, “Visiting Hours” has never really been about that original story. It’s always been about a different kind of loss.

If you’ve grown up with a dog, you probably get this. They’re not just pets. They’re part of your life in a way that’s hard to explain. They’re there for everything, the awkward teenage years, the random late-night thoughts, the days when nothing else makes sense. And no matter what, they’re always just… happy to see you.

Standing there in the crowd, I felt that familiar kind of ache, the one that just wants a few more minutes. Just enough time to sit with them again, to talk about life now, to feel that quiet comfort you didn’t realise you’d miss so much. To see that tail wag one more time.

If you know me personally, you’d probably know that I talk to dogs, like literally talk to them. I think any pet owner does that. So I know for a fact that my best mate used to hear a lot of stories from me, and I really liked telling him all the stories I wanted to tell. There’s a line in the song about wanting to ask for advice and share how much things have changed, and that’s exactly what it feels like. It’s not just missing them, it’s missing the chance to share who you’ve become with someone who knew you back then.

Out of all the songs he could’ve played that night, this was the one that stayed with me.

It brought back everything, the random memories, the cringe moments, the small, ordinary parts of growing up that somehow matter more now. And in the middle of all that, it felt kind of surreal, how a song written for someone else could fit so perfectly into my own story.

“I wish that heaven had visiting hours, and I would ask them if I could take you home”

So yeah, this one’s for you.

My childhood best friend.