Wednesday, 3 October 2001

We stole a week from somewhere, and had the holiday we should have had. No obligations, no commitments, no anger or resentment. And it was all fun (well, I'll admit I was a bit 'emotional' for the first day). We lay on the beach, walked in the high mountains, rode horses along the seafront, swam in the glassy sea, ate like royalty and had the most marvellous week.



Saying goodbye on Sunday was the hardest thing I have ever done, and it looked like she didn't find it easy either, which I suppose is what I wanted. Despite that, all of it seems like it was the right thing to do, I have no regrets.



Now I'm back in the real, grimy, damp, war-threatened, dull world with the romantic equivalent of a hangover and I still want her back. All my friends are busy advising me that I should walk away and that she's not worth wasting my breath on, but I do love her very much, and (although I can see how this makes me sound) I can see that she's confused and upset and hurt. None of which excuses her behaviour, but all of which makes everything seems a lot less black and white than this page makes it appear.



I am slowly walking away now even though it hurts very much (and things are slightly complicated by the fact that she's just rejoined the same company and we're both working in the same office). It's up to her if she wants to make entreaties to me to get us back together, she needs to sort her head out (such a trite and annoying phrase) and decide that she wants me for the right reasons (because she has fun with me, not because she thinks she owes me) - and work out what she can do to win my trust back.



And I'll get on with the rest of my life and won't wait.



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