I couldn't wait to get home from work yesterday. I swear my heart was pounding as I skipped to the front door. I came in quietly just in case he had gone to sleep but heard the lovely familiar voice call softly, and simply, 'hello'... As I walked into the bedroom I knew. The smell of spirits and the inane grin that can so quickly turn to an arrogant leer. But I went with it and climbed into bed next to him as I was desperate to feel the warmth of company. He muttered about it being a terrible flight so he, and a city banker had to drink to get through the journey, kissed the top of my head then went to sleep.

I pottered around, quietly, bought myself a takeaway so I didn't make a noise in the kitchen, watched some TV then gave up and went to bed myself. I slept for the first time in a week. One of those enveloping sleeps I imagine a baby has when swaddled in warm blankets within the cradle of its mother's arms. Then he got up. Stomped into the kitchen, rummaged in cupbards , stomped back to bed chewing and crunching, tossed and turned a bit then went back to sleep. This was to be the order of the night. I realised that I hadn't missed this.

I stirred from my broken sleep at about 7am- a lie in for me so I carefully left the room and made my first cup of tea, trawled the sky index for anything remotely escapist, giving up at a True Movie I have seen at least 5 times but whatever... At about 8 I quietly left the house to post a reference through the door of a local beauty spa in advance of my daughter's interview later, picked up the papers and came home for cup of tea two. Bored and a little sleepy, I climbed back into bed beside him. The familiar warmth washed over me and I returned to much needed slumber.

I stirred to the familiar urgent fumbling, surrendered to the feeling of being desired, waking at the point where the spoken fantasy of someone else being there kicked in, counted the seconds til 'The End' then lay ther cold and unsatisfied before getting up for cup of tea 3. ( I had looked at him with expectant eyes but he laughed, said 'later' and turned over.)

About 11, he got up. Sat himself at the computer and 'chatted' with his racing forum 'friends'. I spoke to him over the top of the monitor, fighting for his attention but losing every time to quizzical expressions and 'eh?'. I talked for less than 5 minutes about this that and the other but gave in and went to have a bath. He had sent me countless romantic texts when hhe was away about cuddling me under canvas this weekend but as yet hadn't mentioned camping. To be honest, I was glad. Having not slept for a week I needed the warmth and comfort of a soft bed and the rest of my creature comforts, besides, it was scheduled to rain. HAving read my thoughts, when I got out of the bath, he asked if we were going camping. I told him what I have just told you, he didn't try to convince me otherwise! Nor did he mention a night in a little hotel...
Funny how we can't afford that but we can afford his daily bets and trips to the races that I am not invited to where he tells me he bets the odd £20...double it!

He has banged on about doing the shopping together as it is a 'bonding' experience so I suggest it but I make it quite clear that anything beyond my usual shopping bill, he pays. On the rare occasions we have shopped together, he has loaded the trolley with extravagant sauces etc that still fester at the back of the cupboard having survived 3 house moves! I pay for the shopping you see. I have a system, a fluid amble up and down the aisles, counting meals for days, picking up the favourites of 7 people as I go and maybe a little treat for someone, finances permitting-or not! When he comes he splits amoeba like into 27 men and scatters in all directions, calling me from distant corners of the store, studying cost against weight and buying 2 ton of whatever with the justification of cost effectiveness before discreetly secreting a jar of caramalised californian hornets beneath the toilet rolls in the trolley. His behaviour today was as manic as ever, chastising me for believing that creme patissiere in a pastry was the yellow custardy stuff when in his world it is a glaze. Who cares. Oh he did. He must have got 3 aisles out of his mocking which then became me stifling my daughter's experiences because I bought her favourite run of the mill mini pain au chocolat. He broke sweat at the checkout packing the bags. 'Never again', I prayed he was thinking.

Both hungry, we popped into the pub on the way home, he had a mini tiz when the guy taking the food order asked whereabouts we would be sitting and the tables weren't numbered. Close shave. We waited all of a perfectly reasonable 10 minutes for our food during which time he banged his cutlery on the table, when it came he sat making mouths out of the onion rings, shovelled his food down then complained he was tired and we would have to go before I had eaten half of my food. We went.

My daughter was there when we got back and sat chatting to me for no more than 5 minutes about the normal bitchy girl goings on while he ran to log on to his racing forum. I gave her a lift to her interview and when I came back he was asleep on the sofa.

Bear with me...

Hmmm. New to this, where do I start? Bear with
me... I thought I would do this as an 'outlet', a secret 'confidante'. Bit weird
that the 'confidante' could be the rest of the world though!

(Even though this is anonymous I am still
consumed with anxiety that you will all be shouting at your screens in
judgement!)

I am torn between giving you a synopsis of
the story so far or just launching into the bearing of the soul. Maybe I will
fill you in as I go. To help you follow my chaotic mind/life, what if I type the
'history' in italic? Yep, thats the plan but please, bear with
me...