Tuesday 9th January 2007
……Steve texts me and I cuddle my jacket that now smells of him. I really miss him, and I’m counting the days until Thursday, when we go to Scotland.
There is no sanity to this at all, because whereas before this was all a bit of a fling thing and I was definitely sure that there was no future, I’ve been doing that stupid imagination thing, and imagining a future so often that I’m starting to believe it. He has been so persistent that he’s kind of talked me into it.
But I have a little boy, and there’s nothing more important than that.
Monday 30th January 2017
I remember those nights so well. Even now, after all that happened, those are some of my most precious memories.
Since October 2006 I’d been sleeping in the spare bedroom. It was literally just big enough for the sofa bed to fold out, and I would sit on the end of the sofa bed and type my blog at the desktop computer on a fold-down triangular Ikea table that fitted into the corner. I was surrounded by bookshelves – free standing one side and wall-mounted on two others (the head of the sofa bed was under the window). I likened it to sleeping in a womb – it felt enclosed, but safe. Bloody cold though, cos there was a huge airbrick right near the bed and no heating
I’d go to bed as soon as I could really, because otherwise I had to sit with my then-husband, and it usually felt awkward. I had no TV in the spare room, and in those days you couldn’t watch TV on the computer, so I read instead. Ironically, in January I began ‘The Executioner’s Song’ by Norman Mailer. It’s a huge doorstop of a book, it took me until April to finish it. By April I could already see some parallels in my relationship with Steve and Gilmore’s relationship with Nicole.
But again, that was in the future. Leading up to Scotland, the romance of his phone calls and those late night texts made my tiny room feel like a little paradise bubble, and I slept more easily than I had for a long time.