I know I do love him, but at the moment I hate him. I am inconsolable. No I don't want you to take me to my mums, I am fine, I'm worried about money which is under-fucking-standable, but I had it all planned out the moment my mum told me she wanted me there, it was all fine. I didn't want to ruin your day; I don't want your big plans with the door supervisors course to be disrupted because of me, I didn't want you to be bored shitless at my mum's, and I didn't want you to whinge about it afterwards... Because yes I do moan, but so do you.

I am upset. This is fucking big. I am worried about my family like no tomorrow, and I thought, I really thought that for fucking once you might give me the benefit of the fucking doubt, and allow me to be upset. Not to yell at me. Not to call me thick, an imbecile, tell me to shut up and fuck off. You find me infuriating, I'm sorry, I am infuriating at times, but I'm also allowed to be upset. You think I don't find you infuriating? At times you are so fucking annoying I want to walk out and never see your face again, but I deal with it, because surprisingly enough, it's what people do when they love each other. They put up with it. I don't know what love lessons you had, but as far as I'm aware, when your 'lover' is upset, you fucking comfort them... You don't berate them further. It's your choice to be up early tomorrow, for your organisation, and your kids that don't appreciate a single fucking thing. It's not fucking me.

You wander why I don't confide in you. Here's fucking why. It doesn't take a fucking statistics genius to work it out. When I get upset, when I start crying, it is 99.9% of the time because of you, because you have been unnecessary, or nasty, or yelled at me. Sometimes I deserve it. Yes, I'm not a fucking saint by any stretch of the imagination, but sometimes I don't, like fucking this evening. I'm not putting up barriers. I've been crystal clear from the start that I intended to make my own way there and not bother you. And to then bring up that "it's yet another day I won't see you"... I'm sorry, but I'm going to see my upset mother who is dealing with a depressed husband, a self harming sister and social services, I'm not off getting drunk. And for your information, it was your choice to see your friend yesterday evening, and it is your choice to go to Essex ACF tomorrow evening. And to add the fucking cherry on the fucking icing, you go, yet a-fucking-gain insulting my fucking family. Well you can fuck right off. It's alright for your fucking mother to be selfish enough to try and kill herself, but it's not alright for my father to be depressed. It's alright for you to want to kill yourself, but not for my father to have a breakdown. And my mother has more fucking backbone, and strength than you could ever imagine. Sure she chain smokes, but heck I'd prefer a chain smoker to an anger maniac like you where when you get upset, I am actually scared to be in the same room as you...

I don't think we're going to last the summer if I'm honest. I can't take much more. I don't trust him; I am 99% sure that he at least contemplated cheating on me, or actually did cheat on me with at least one person, and the audacity to be somebody I actually knew and was a friend. Talk about a kick in the teeth. I'm letting it rest at the moment, there's nothing I can do about it, and there's no point dragging up the past, but it all adds up to the point where I think I will just walk out. I don't want to. I want to love him like I used to, I want him to give me butterflies again, and for me to look forward to seeing him. I hoped that we could go back to that. I thought moving to the UEA would sort it. I thought moving in together would sort it. I thought being happier, and eating normally would sort it. I'm running out of options, which just leaves me with the final reason of that we don't love each other anymore, and perhaps this relationship has run it's course. I don't know. I suppose only time will tell.

Well I feel slightly better at least having got all of this out; I'm just dreading the thought of going back to bed and lying next to him feeling all of these emotions... If he could just utter a single word of 'sorry' or 'I love you' then perhaps a slight weight would be lifted off my chest, but I think I'm hoping for too much in this instance.