40. I never told you this, but..

I bought a card for you and I've lost it. It had koalas on it, I think it fell out of my bag or someone took it. It made me sad. Today I missed you a lot whilst I was walking around New Zealand. It feels longer than a week that I've been away. I sit and think about how things were just before I left and how unsettled I felt when I arrived in Australia. About what happened between us and the week before I left how you wanted to just be alone. It's hard to imagine being in London now feeling how I felt that week, being far away makes things so much clearer. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. I sit and think about what you're up to and how you're feeling about everything. I sit and wonder what it will be like when I return and I get a pang of nerves in my stomach. 

39. I never told you this, but..

This is one of my all time favourite songs. It seems quite fitting for us right now, especially as I'm on the other side of the world 10,500 miles away. 
Love to you from Australia. x

38. I never told you this, but...

Those endless days and nights when I missed you and longed for things to be different were the most difficult times of my life. I believe you came into my life for a reason and I never want to let you go. If I didn't think it was worth it I wouldn't have held on.  I love you. x

37. I never told you this, but..

36. I never told you this, but..

I miss you..

35. I never told you this, but....

I love the labels you've put for each blog entry. 

I was just reading through something you wrote for me a while back....

How Things Could Be.

Saturday morning.

Earlier than the birds.

My teeth no longer grind, my breathing light and shallow when I sleep. It’s September. We spent the summer renting out our two bedroom flat in Chalk Farm while we drifted off for the previous two hot months in Spain, Portugal and Morocco, taking pictures, drawing each other, writing stories, eating locally and making love.

You stir before me, and the sound of you quietly wrapping your dressing gown around your soft naked body makes me wake up. You do our symbol for “tea?” with your hands in a T shape, and I do our reply: the nod.

I roll back over and curl up on my side into a ball. I can hear the kettle start to boil, but over the hum I can hear you and our dog saying good morning to each other. I smile. You both think I can’t hear you.

I kick the feather light covers back and realising I am completely undressed, reach down the side of our bed to find those peach fabric knickers, the ones you think look like bare skin from a distance, and pull them on along with a loose white vest and come into the kitchen to join you. You aren’t making tea though, you are making real coffee. I tip toe up behind you and wrap my arms around your middle, snuggling my nose into your neck and breathing in the scent of your skin. I stroke your hips as I pull away walk over to the door of the garden. 

This makes me so sad to read. I wish we could work things out so we could live this life, together.

I love you Alice. x

34. I never told you this, but...

It's 00:31 and it feels really strange to be turning 31. Today has been a reflective day. I had my psychotherapy meeting and for the first time I understood and confronted what has been holding me back for so many years:


1. I am unconfident about my abilities
2. I am extremely lonely 
3. I am incredibly insecure
4. I have trust issues
5. I have no family that know me, need me or even truly love me
6. For years I've done what I thought what was expected of me, not necessarily what I wanted
7. I was a victim of abuse for the first 20 years of my life
8. I am not as independent as I thought I was 
9. I find it hard to let go 
10. I have only felt true love once in my life 


I watched a documentary tonight about a young man who suffered from post-traumatic stress after being a victim of assault at 17. After the event he became a mute. Doctors tried different ways to help him and he was close to being hospitalised. Instead they sent him to a dolphin retreat. He had completely repressed the assault and memories prior to being at the retreat. He would swim all day and became almost dolphin-like. His father had sold land and his business, left his job and wife to be with his son while he went through this treatment. Over time, months and months, he began to speak, gained confidence in himself and trust in others again. He was at the retreat for a total of 4 years before he returned to his village. It was strange to watch. I felt like I identified with him in some ways, the repression of a dark past, to not be able to relate to people in the same way as most people do...
I sat in the bath and cried afterwards and as the water washed away the tears I felt a sudden release of weight that I have been carrying on my shoulders for such a long time.


I really want to get help this time, for me. Not for anyone else. I want to be happy being me.