It’s only Tuesday and already this week is keeping my arse. I’ve spent more Valentines days single than I have in a relationship and I know that it’s just a mass over commercialised holiday but it still sucks that I’m alone. I knew that after the loveliness that was last year. We treated ourselves to a box at the opera, with a red rose, champagne and a night at a hotel. It was lovely. I’m still struggling to comprehend that that was less than 12 months ago.
This week has seen a big family meal and a family birthday both of which has seen me doubled over in the bathroom sobbing uncontrollably. I don’t want to move on. I know I deserve better. I know that some of the stunts he pulled should have had me kicking him out, in fact I often wondered if he was being an ass to see if I would leave but I still want him and my life with him.
I’m about to start the next chapter of my life, I’ve sort of got a completion date for the house, but in my head when I move I’m going home, to my lovely house in the country, where I had bd every night and came home to him. But I’m not and it’s killing me