I can't believe it's been a month since that discussion, since those words were uttered and we stared down the depths, right by the end of a huge fucking emotional cliff.
A month of tears, talking and planning. Of avoiding, confronting and holding on.
Now he's away from the UK for 10 days and I have the flat to myself, to pack, drink and cuddle my friends. To watch all of "My so called life" and stare at a map, trying to figure out where to go next.
I'm sitting about in my robe eating Japanese rice crackers, looking out the dirty windows and trying desperately to feel anything. But I'm numb and all I can feel is that I'm thirsty. Not angry, sad, melancholic or upset. Just thirsty.
The fact that it's that basic feels oddly comforting.
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