Sunrise Welcome

My timing may have been a little off, but I did make it to sunrise this morning. I was so keen to press snooze on the alarm – it was the best sleep I’d had in a week. But this was too important; I couldn’t miss it. I pushed myself through and made the short walk alone to the beach.

It was really quite peaceful. The locals were slowly opening their shops and restaurants ready for the day’s trade, tuk tuk drivers were having a quiet break and workers were collecting rubbish. Early morning really is a different time in the city, country – anywhere really.

I walked along the beach for a bit and found a somewhat secluded spot to sit – with beach side bars and restaurants, there isn’t really a lot of seclusion. I settled myself down, removed my thongs and placed my tissues within easy reach. This wasn’t going to be an easy time.

I got out my phone and found my words; I’m glad I’d written them earlier, otherwise it may have been much harder and certainly less coherent. I read each word out loud and thought of the baby. I allowed the love to flow through me and the peacefulness of the water splashing on the shore to take me away. I didn’t notice the workers behind me or the fisherman getting their boats prepared. I let the colours and clouds in the sky wash over me and allow me to read what I so needed to read.

I captured an image of some clouds facing the sun. The sun rise wasn’t remarkable, it was slightly off to the side and behind me, but these clouds spoke to me. I like to think of this image as the sun welcoming my baby in; shining a bright light on the way, holding them in love and light. The baby is being released by my open hands, both of us embracing the love and light and moving on to the next chapter.

I waited for the clouds to fully dissipate, however a young local girl came and approached me. I was a little nervous, unsure if she wanted to chat, to pick-pocket or just to sit. I also wanted this time for me and me alone. She pointed to my tissues and asked for one. I pulled one out and she pulled the layers apart, counting. One, two, three, four. She then bunched them all back up, wiped her nose and threw it away.

She pointed at my phone a couple of times, but I held fast, again not sure. Two other boys came over, one older and younger. The older asked for money, and I said I didn’t have any. They soon left, leaving the girl and I. I asked her name, and she replied ‘Hoy’. She again pointed to my phone and pressed the lock button, revealing the camera shortcut. She wanted a picture. So I took a couple of selfies, pulling silly faces. It was quite sweet, until she then asked ‘miss, one dollar?’ I said I had no money, and she moved on.

I looked back at the sky and the clouds had gone – the representation I’d made and had hoped to see further develop had disappeared. But I felt at peace. Hoy had come along and pulled me back into the real world. While her world is very different to mine, she helped me. I remained grounded and thankful for what I have. She proved to be the perfect distraction.

As I glanced further around I found the sun. It had risen as an amazing orange orb, appearing between the trees to brighten and day and paths ahead. I went through one tissue today and that was used by a young Cambodian girl. I didn’t fill my own with tears again –  I have worked through this. I was filled with reflection and limited sadness today, but I was giving myself permission to move on.

I can now look at the sun and the clouds and know that my baby is up there and looking down on me. As time passes, the physical distance grows, yet there will always be small fluffs of cloud and love to see us never full parted.My path ahead is bright and filled with light.



Due to my travelling, I chose sunrise at the beach to speak out loud the below words:

This period marks an important milestone for me and you. Had another path been chosen I wouldn’t be here where I am and instead, you would be in my arms or soon to be.

I will always wonder, hope and dream for you, but for now, I have come to accept that this wasn’t meant for us.

For the short period you were with me, you had an incredible influence. You certainly left your mark and I know that I have grown and learnt from you. Today I will release you at the time you were meant to enter this physical world. I am not surrounded by close friends or family, but I am surrounded by love; love for you and love from within.

I tell you again that you were absolutely created and made with love. You were absolutely wanted and you were absolutely loved.

I can no longer think about what could or should have been, but can only thank you for your time with me and how you’ve helped me grow and further shape the mother I will be one day.

Gone but not forgotten, today I reach full acceptance and I release you.

Overwhelmed at making me

Overwhelmed. That’s my emotional state at the moment. I have a million questions running through my mind and it seems there are very few answers.

I’ve provided notice at work; I’ve got a moving truck booked and a storage unit confirmed; I’ve arranged for my electricity to be cut off and I’ve made the public announcement that I’m off travelling. My car and contents insurance have changed and internet is cut off. My apartment is about half packed and I’ve got lots of stuff ready to be given to charity. Yet I feel as though I’ve achieved nothing.

The majority of people have been supportive and encouraging of my travelling; only a few haven’t been. I’m trying hard to focus on the positivity and encouragement, but there is still the little – though quite loud – voice inside my head that wants to focus on the naysayers, the doubters, and the ones who question what I’m doing.

Dad asked me last week if I was doing the right thing; I said I simply didn’t know. Lili from work said she didn’t think she could do it, and asked why I was. I said I need to get away, I’ve had a rough year and I need a change. She asked if I was travelling to find love – by travelling I’m just making the geographic space larger and therefore making it harder to find. I’m not travelling to find love.

Why am I travelling? I’ve just had a call with Gary and these questions came up. He still thinks I should get my British passport so I can go to Europe, work and travel so as to not spend my money and come home with funds available. He then asked why I’d given notice at work, especially since I don’t have anything booked yet, don’t have set plans or know what I want to do.

I told him that I can’t be here in February. He asked why and I said that was/is the due date. It took him a few seconds, but he cottoned on that the timeline is due to the miscarriage. Our call got disconnected shortly after and he’s just messaged me to say that I need to be around family at a difficult time and that if I’m travelling because of the miscarriage then I’m travelling for the wrong reasons.

This has all crossed my mind and is of course adding to me being overwhelmed. Why am I travelling? Will this help me in any way? What am I hoping to achieve? Am I travelling for the right reasons?

I’ve just responded and told him that the timeline for February is because of the miscarriage, but that isn’t the reason for me travelling. I don’t feel I have the support I need from my family to get me through this, no one understands how this has and is affecting me. Mum told me a while ago to just stop thinking about the timeline, simply forget about it. Dad just wants to hurt Gary for hurting me, Donna and I don’t have that sort of relationship, and when we saw each other for Christmas, she gave me a hug – for her, not for me. I said I couldn’t do it, and she said she needed to do it. Emma has been great; she’s said the right things, let me go on and listened, hasn’t dismissed what I’m feeling or judged me for it. But she’s going through her own stuff and needs to deal with that.

I finished off telling Gary that I am sad, lonely and depressed. I can’t keep doing the same thing and expect a different result. During our call I told him that I wasn’t me right now, I hated who I am currently and I hate feeling depressed, crying at the drop of a hat and simply not being ‘me’.

I’ve never been one to ask for help. I do things on my own and don’t want to be a burden on anyone. I guess I feel like I have to prove to myself that I can do things alone, that I don’t need anyone else. But deep down, I don’t want to be alone; I don’t want to have to do things by myself. I want someone to share my life with, someone to do things with and someone who will be there to help – without me having to ask them.

When saying bye to my Aunty Elaine at our family Christmas party, I told her I was off travelling this year. She said that she thought this year was for making a baby. I responded that this year was for making me. I’ve clung to that since, waiting for the words to come so I can write about ‘making me’. When I retold this to Megan and Alison, Megan immediately started a cheers and we chinked our sangrias. That was the impact I was hoping for from a simple ‘making me’. It’s fallen short since.

There are times when I feel a big twinge of excitement at travelling, the thought of seeing and experiencing somewhere new. There is so much to see of this world and I’ve seen so little of it lately. I need to hold on to these moments, make them last and remember them. I can do this; I will do this.

The next few weeks won’t be easy, but it will get easier. I will tick off a few items on my to do list and I’ll know that I’ve achieved something. Things will happen. I may still cry at the drop of a hat, and you know what, that’s fine. It means I’m alive and feeling.

If making me involves getting overwhelmed at times, then so be it. I’ll get overwhelmed. I’ll feel nervous and scared. But that will pass and with each achievement, I’ll feel accomplished, happy and excited. That’s how I’ll make me. I’ll turn my overwhelming negativity and uncertainty into overwhelming positivity and opportunity.

In 2017, I will make me.


Getting the best of me

I’m letting it get the best of me. I’m on the verge of giving up and just letting the depression take me over. I have good moments and low moments and downright miserable moments. I’ve let the miserable take me over today. This morning I was woken by the blinds tapping against a window and it did my head in. I got up and shut the window, and of course, minutes later my alarm went off. I snoozed my pre-set three times, then ended up just setting my timer for an additional 30 minutes.

I couldn’t bear the thought of getting up and facing the day. My head hurt, my belly ached and my mind wouldn’t shut down. I made a doctor’s appointment and made the call to tell work I wouldn’t be in today. The appointment with a doctor is wasteful, I just need a medical certificate so I can redeem sick leave. I know what’s wrong with me; I’m just too weak to overcome it today.

Mel and Alison came round for drinks Saturday night. We had no firm plans, other than have a couple and see what happened. We ended up drinking more than expected and stayed in. Mel got my phone again (okay – I handed it to her) and she got onto Tinder. Alison was curious how it worked, so we had a laugh. I had a like and a super like, but I’ve not followed up. I’m not in that space anymore, and the effort required is just non-existent right now.

This week marks my birthday, the anniversary of the night I met Gary and also my work Christmas party. I have no plans for my birthday apart from going to work. The idea of spending my birthday alone is really breaking my heart. I want someone to make me feel special, to show me that I am worth it, and worthy.

When I caught up with Manda and Jules last weekend, I told Manda that I had initially been planning to go to NZ to see what happened with Gary, but I was now thinking against it. She didn’t hold back and told me that he was all about him and that I was worth so much more. I deserved someone who would treat me well and be about me and for me. She did hit the mark though when she said that she knows I haven’t had much in the way of relationships, so clinging to this one isn’t good for me.

That’s the truth. I’m scared that there isn’t anyone else out there for me. As much as I know in my head that he isn’t right for me, I’ve not had much luck otherwise. He came up again this weekend with Mel and Alison. There’s no holding back by anyone now – my friends do not like him. I still want to protect him of sorts. I need to stop that as it is holding me back and stopping me from being happy.

He liked an old Facebook picture of mine – one from almost four years ago. I felt some of the power come back. Mel and I messaged him Saturday night – against my better sober judgment. I asked him 10 questions, not sure if he’d respond to them all. Oddly enough, he did. I asked why he was Facebook stalking me to which he said that he was wondering if he’d made a mistake. I also asked him if he wanted me to go to NZ. He said no.

I have asked him to elaborate on the NZ answer – I said it was harsh. But I don’t feel terrible about it – it has been increasingly obvious that he didn’t want me to go. I’d already decided I’m going to Asia anyway. I did tell him that he did make a mistake, but he needs to learn from it. So he’s again contradictory. He wonders if he made a mistake but also doesn’t want me to go. My head knows what is right and that he is not it, but my heart still has that soft spot.

Life, while not especially hopeful at the moment, will go on. I may not feel worthy or worthwhile at the moment but I do need to have my time outs. Today is one of those. Today can take away the best of me but I’ll bring it back. Not likely this week, or even this month. But I’ll get it back. I’ll be the best of me soon enough. I have to be.

I’ll get the best of me.

Regaining the power

I feel like I’ve got some power back; a little bit of control. It’s nothing substantial and certainly not significant, but I feel like I’ve regained some power.

I’ve still been feeling miserable; totally utterly miserable and downright moody. I have not sworn so much throughout my life as I have in the last week of driving. Cars going slow, not using their indicators and even simply being on the road with me has been enough to have me f-ing this and f-ing that. I never considered myself to be a swearer; I usually don’t say the whole ‘f-word’, I’d say freakin, fricken or f’n, but never the full word. It’s been my most frequently word this last week. At my last job Mel knew I was really pissed off when I’d say fuck. Now, it’s just another word.

Traffic was a nightmare Friday night; I was meeting friends at Preston Market and I’d given what I believed to be my most likely time. I was late. I was pissed. Had Jules not been down from Mackay for the weekend, I would have cancelled (had Jules not been down, the plans wouldn’t have been made). All I wanted to do was cry and curse and sit on my butt feeling sorry for myself.

Manda was there first and she copped the brunt of me – she joined in the swearing, enjoying the freedom without her kids around. It was fun, but the novelty wore off when we cut to the chase. I told her how I’d been feeling about Gary and told her that my thought for travelling had included NZ to see how things went. I told her how we’d stayed in touch and that I was actually hurting again now and so confused.

It was his birthday last Tuesday so I sent him a private message. It wasn’t a simple ‘Happy Birthday’ but nothing particularly full on either. I got a simple ‘Thanks’ and that was it. I then wished him a ‘Good Night’ and the next morning he replied with the same. I sent back a smiley face and said it was a bit late for a good night. It took a day, but he responded with the corn emoji. I responded with ?! and left it at that. On Sunday he sent back two corn emojis. I still have no idea what that means (if you do, please comment!). As the message was so short, it appeared in preview, so I haven’t actually ‘read’ the message so he won’t know that I’ve seen it.

It’s doing my head in having that red 1 icon over my messenger widget, but I can’t read it. I can’t acknowledge it. I need to let go of him, one small message at a time.

During lunch today I was checking out Facebook and saw a notification. Gary had liked one of my photos; a photo from when I went to Tassie in September. I felt a little satisfaction from this – he’s Facebook stalking me. After work, I check Facebook again – he’s mentioned me in a comment. I haven’t read it; I have no idea what the comment is, if it’s from a meme or a link to an article. I know nothing of it – just that he’s mentioned me in a comment. While he’ll never know if I see that or not, I feel a little bit of power back on my side.

The truth is, I’m starting to feel that what T was saying was true – while he may have wanted to see me, I think him staying here was for him and him alone. I feel a little used; I let him stay here for a week, he used my internet, my furniture, my washing machine, ate my food and slept in my bed. Yes, he paid for the fancy dinner, bought other food and paid for our meals and fuel when we did the Great Ocean Road, but that was comparatively much cheaper than paying for a hostel and of course a million times more comfortable.

Then when he first got to NZ, we talked quite a lot, he didn’t have any friends yet, he was feeling down and I felt bad for him. I then helped him get a job, I helped with his online test and also provided a reference (sucker, yes). Now that my purpose has been served, he doesn’t need me anymore. It was bloody killing me last week as that was all dawning on me.

Yet the notification and the liked photo today…. That’s all him and nothing on me. I need to ensure I stay strong and not engage, again. Manda was telling me that I deserve the best, that there is someone out there for me. That I absolutely deserve to be treated like a princess and have someone who would move heaven and earth for me. That that person is not Gary. He is about him and he has demonstrated so many times that he won’t treat me like that, that he won’t move heaven and earth for me. It’s a tough realisation and one in my head that I’ve known for a long time. A few months ago I had thought my heart had caught up to my head; it clearly hadn’t and may not yet for some time. But if I can keep listening to the logic going on in my head, it will catch up.

I do deserve love and happiness and to be treated like a princess, like I’m loved and cared about. Like I am a wanted person in that person’s life. Not that I am a burden or holding them back from doing what they want.

So, while it’s not significant and most likely means nothing to him, I have some power back. I don’t need to read his message, I don’t need to engage and I don’t need to go back and like his old photos. He can do that by himself. I’m in control.

Answers…. or not

I’ve been feeling down again. Not too sure what’s going on with me but I felt like I needed a cry most of the weekend. Tears eluded me, but the feeling has stuck around. I did cry a little on Saturday night watching TV; the character finally gave birth and held a little girl in her arms – it nearly broke me. She wasn’t a main character and I wasn’t particularly invested in her, but it cut through.

It really took me by surprise how much it affected me. I had thought I was doing okay, but I guess not. It just goes to show that I do need to be away from everything in February.

Gary and I have stayed in touch, we seemed to be chatting nearly every day. Me going to New Zealand was coming up more and more. Gary talked about getting a three-bedroom house by the beach and renting out two of the bedrooms. I commented that we were supposed to be sharing a room, to which he responded that yes, I’d sleep on the floor and he’d be on the bed.

We talked a bit about plans over there; he’d got himself a car and I said he’d have to pick me up from the airport when I arrived and told him he had to look after it for when I do get there. I said it’d be nice to have someone look after me for a change – he asked what I meant by that (it was quite obvious to me!). As much as we had all this chatter, we never really discussed what me going to New Zealand would be. I did comment once that I had suggested that before we got engaged, that we should go there as I could work without issue and see how things ended up. I guess I wanted to point out that I was right.

Finally last week I put it to him and asked what his thoughts were. I didn’t want to put pressure on him, or me, but I wanted to know what he wanted. He told me to chill. I just asked if he wanted us to try again, was he open to it? I didn’t get an answer, which really should be an answer in itself. He ended up telling me that I said I didn’t want pressure, yet asking was putting pressure on. Perhaps me mentioning that we stay celibate until we see each other pushed him over the edge. (haha)

Things backed off for a bit and I couldn’t help but feel that I’d scared him off. I told him that I’d told my family about travelling, but I had neglected to tell them that I wanted to go to NZ. This was a conscious decision by me – it was hard enough saying I wanted to travel, let alone say that I was putting myself up for potentially more hurt and pain. A couple of days ago Gary messaged me and said that he ‘thinks it’s best I come for a holiday first’. I asked him what he meant and it took a day for him to respond with more confusion. He asked if I was going to NZ for him.

I replied that I was travelling for me – that I was doing what I wanted for me. We then chatted and I asked him to elaborate. He said he didn’t want me to give up everything – primarily my job – and then not like it over there. Again I said that I was travelling for me and it was about me. I’ve made my mind up about work and travelling, this is not just about him and NZ. I asked him what he’d do if he were me?

There were of course some very interesting ideas that came out, the main one being that I should pursue my British passport and travel the world. Spend time in NZ, go to Europe and England, work and then go to Canada and work my way down to Argentina. My concern is the cost of the passport – it’s about £1,100. Pounds. Great British Pounds. While I do have some savings behind me, that is a big chunk for a non-guarantee of work.

I have started thinking more about my trip and I’m still confused about him and NZ. So perhaps it’s best that I do a couple of months in Asia; Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam and Laos first. Then come back to Melbourne for the theatre (I’ve booked tickets for Manda, Alison and I to see Aladdin), head to NZ, see how it goes then maybe head towards Europe. It does seem backwards, but it gives me a way out. I can always get a job over there and it’s not far.

I suggested that he should go home for his sister’s wedding, spend a few weeks there then on his way back, stop in Asia and we could spend some time there, then I could go back to NZ with him. Logically, it makes at least some sense.

More than anything else,however, it gives me a chance to see what may happen. Or not happen. He hasn’t given me anything that he sees or wants a future with me. Yet I still can’t shut it off. All the answers I’m not getting are giving me the answers I need; yet I’m still drawn in. My travels are absolutely all about me and for me. I need to remember that – this is for me and me alone.

Don’t be mad…

I spent the week with Gary. It turns out he did want to see me and take me out to dinner; so he did. I must admit that when he brought this up on the phone a while ago I wasn’t too sure he’d follow through. Then the time approached and he told me what his plans were and that he’d like to spend his last week in Australia, in Melbourne, with me.

I was incredibly nervous and unsure if I should. I didn’t know how I’d respond to seeing him, how I’d feel, how we’d be around each other and how I’d be when he left. But I agreed to not only seeing him, but also having him stay with me for the week.

He said he’d like to do the Great Ocean Road and I asked if he’d like me to go with him and he said yes. So, after only being at work for three months, I asked for two days annual leave and had myself a long weekend. I checked with Jess and Rachael if they were okay with me taking a long weekend and they were. Rachael did however ask if I was taking it off to go up and visit Gary. I told her that no, I was not going up [to Sydney] to visit Gary.

I didn’t lie when I told her that. I didn’t go and visit Gary. He came to stay with me. I felt a little cheeky, knowing really that maybe it wasn’t the best plan and perhaps I shouldn’t do it. But I liked the little tweak of the truth and having the secret.

I’d mentioned to Alison that Gary had been planning to come to Melbourne by end of October for a visit before heading to New Zealand. She just told me that he wouldn’t be welcome at our girl’s night out (tonight). I told no one else of Gary’s impending visit; when he first brought it up awhile ago, Emma simply told me to meet him in a neutral place in the city, out in the open. In principle I agreed with her.

The week was my little secret and when the Wednesday arrived for him getting here, I was so nervous. My drive home from work was excruciatingly long, yet far too short. I’d not experienced butterflies in my belly to that extent since we’d started going out. I felt like a little girl again, nervous yet excited about seeing a boy.

I painstakingly waited the hour or so after I got home for him to arrive. I started panicking, thinking he’d changed his mind when he wasn’t here by 6; I told him I’d be home about 5.45. And then the front door buzzed. He was here. I let him in and paced the apartment until he made it up to my floor and to my door.

I opened the door and we just hugged. He walked in and dumped his bag then held me; held me tight like he had months ago. We stood for I don’t know how long, but it felt right, just standing and holding each other. I did feel myself holding back, I didn’t know how strong I’d be. But it did feel good in his arms.

I’d deliberately worn a top that day that had a little split at my chest; appropriate for work (just) but also to give off a hint of what lay beneath. I felt Gary’s eyes drop there a few times. It made me feel good; I was appreciated, even if for perhaps the wrong reasons at the time. It was confidence boosting. On top of that, I had also lost a further 6 kilos since we saw each other last. Nine kilos lost in total since we split up – in the last two weeks I’ve really noticed the difference.

We did share the bed that night; it was so nice to be held again. We spooned like we hadn’t before. We were both nervous, yet also quite honest with each other in terms of what we liked and what we wanted. I didn’t sleep much that night; it takes me time to adjust to sharing my bed. But when I did toss and turn, he was there and we took turns holding each other. Of course, his snoring didn’t help.

I again felt cheeky at work the next two days; I had this secret that no one knew of and certainly wouldn’t approve of. But I also had a four-day weekend to look forward to; a long weekend with Gary. A long weekend that would honestly either make or break me further.

We talked about going out for a drink Friday night, but in the end just stayed in and talked, caught up. We had our usual Saturday breakfast of bacon and eggs – he still made the usual mess and I sadly over cooked the eggs. But we had fun. I did find myself frustrated at the lack of activity – weekends are for doing things and I’m not usually one to sleep in. But the weather was terrible and we did have a fancy dinner planned. I found myself questioning some of Gary’s choices and values and felt that perhaps it had been for the best. He did ask me a couple of times about us being married. He asked what I would say if he asked me to marry him now; did I see us getting married in the future.

I struggled to answer; I didn’t want to hurt him and I also didn’t want to get my hopes raised. Right now, getting married or planning to get married is not right. We are both in different places and want different things in the immediacy. I’m ready and wanting to settle down and have a family. He still wants to travel and see more. He is hopeful of getting his Irish passport which should allow him to get a visa for Australia again, but that could be years away. And he still wants to do New Zealand and Canada and then even SE Asia. I’m not sure where I fit into that.

I told him that right now, I would say no; we’re not in the same place and he still doesn’t know what he wants. I didn’t shut him down completely but I did say that both of us might meet someone. He said that he was still scared of marriage and commitment; he’s convinced he has gamophobia. I don’t believe he has that as such, I still think he’s just struggling to figure out what he wants.

I told him that when you’re with someone and you think you have a phobia of marriage, if you truly want to be with that person, you get counseling, you work on that phobia and whatever else is holding you back. You don’t regret the things that you’ll miss out on; you look forward to the things that you’ll do together.

Dinner Saturday night was at Eureka 89. It was a 7-course degustation menu and we were able to go to the sky deck for the best views of Melbourne. It was absolutely stunning. We had a couple of cocktails before dinner and then a wine with dinner. We truly enjoyed each other’s company.

Gary had told me a couple of times that he loved me and I’d not really responded; I think once I told him of course he did, I was awesome. We did have a moment at dinner and I did finally put the words out there. I told him that I did still love him. It felt right and the truth is, I do still love him. I’m not as in love with him as I was; I can’t be if I want to go on. But I do still love him and most likely always will.

After dinner we went to watch his beloved Spurs play. I did try to get involved, but I just can’t get into soccer. It was a nil all game – so boring! I need the excitement of action and scoring. We got chatting with a Dutch guy who was into the soccer but didn’t like AFL – they ganged up on me a little, but I felt I was able to hold my own. Don’t knock AFL – they don’t fall over and beg for a penalty, they get up and keep on playing!

We then made our way back to Young and Jackson – the scene of the crime. It was where we’d first met and spent many a Saturday evening having a drink and a boogie. It wasn’t the same; the usual band was back, but the crowd was drunker and dirtier. He went to the toilet at one stage and a guy offered to buy me a beer; he wouldn’t leave me alone. He was harmless but I was left uncomfortable. Finally Gary returned and I felt safe, comfortable again. Gary asked the guy to buy him a beer; the bar apparently turned him away.

I slept really well that night; my body adjusted to having him there again and I actually fell asleep in his arms. Again, it felt right. When we did go to bed at the same time in the past, I’d start off in his arms, but never fell asleep in them – we tossed and turned until we pulled apart. I’m not sure why it was different this time.

Don’t be mad, but I do still love him. I spent an entire week with him and I’ve come out in one piece. I can’t be mad anymore.