How do you like my pool?

I’m soaking in the last of July’s heat in the pool. It was a good investment, considering. My children, sisters, niece and nephew have barely been out of it. Today, however, I have it to myself.

As I was floating about in the heart shaped doughnut, my next post was milling about in my mind. But when I logged on, I realised that it had actually been six days since my last post! Where did the time go?

A quick recap of my last post and I think I know where we are up to.

In summary, Wildcard indicated that he had not expected or was not ready for me to come back so soon. After me initially being quite assertive and strong over this, we’d had another heated talk and I began to understand a little more. Others around me, not so much. But then, it is nothing to do with them.

We have had a relatively good week, Wildcard and I.

I had an early morning meeting with my union and I’d informed Wildcard that he would have to get up early if he wanted to speak to me. We’d laughed because he struggles to get up for work nevermind just to say good morning to me. And yet he did – he called nearly an hour earlier than normal. Although he claimed he had woken to go to the toilet, I don’t believe him.

Yesterday I told him that I had to change my flights by the end of the day. He suggested September or October! A month earlier than planned so I seized that opportunity. I’m booked for mid September. He was very thoughtful when I told him of the booked date today but I know that the rapidly increasing Covid in his country is concerning him. He thinks his country may well shut again.

My friendship with my London friend is coming on. We have just clicked and have lots of similarities. Tomorrow she flies out to see her boyfriend and I’ve been with her every step of the way. I’m very, very excited for her and can’t pretend that I’m not tempted by her repeated offers for me to join her.

I was riding on a wave of excitement this morning when I spoke to her. I had changed my flights last night and was feeling positive. We shared stories of first kisses and the overwhelming feelings of traveling to see someone you love and miss so much.

I got swept away. Last night I had remembered the feel of our first kiss and I told her about it. As usual, my emotions and love and need for him just swelled like the pull of a great wave.

This is often the way with me. I get overwhelmed by a feeling and in that moment, I just need some relief or release. If he was here, I would have hugged and squeezed him and kissed him on the lips. When I feel like that with my children, that is what I do – I hug them and shower them with kisses all over their cute faces. But Wildcard is not here.

So I messaged him. Before long he called me. I was bright and cheerful. I felt good. He was sleepy and quiet.

Right there and then, threatened by this overwhelming love for him, I needed something. I couldn’t have that physical touch and so I needed his affection, his words.

Unfortunately, he is not one for words. He jokes and he teases and my love comes from that. He gives me his time. When I’m with him, his loves comes from playful slaps on the bottom or tickles more often than the tender, gentle kisses he surprises me with. (Which of course makes those kisses all the more special, darn him.)

And it is no good asking him to tell me. He has admitted himself in the past, he doesn’t like being forced to say or do something . He will do it when he wants and when he is ready. So in those moments then, he won’t give me want I want in the way I want it. He does it his own way.

(I’m out of the pool by the way. Apparently floating on a giant doughnut gives me motion sickness.)

So his answers to my questions were ‘no’ in that jokey way I find so cute when I’m not being hormonal, needy and emotional. It is his way of saying yes without saying it. I know that, he knows that. My emotions however refused to accept that.

Floating around the pool getting increasingly more nauseous, I realised that my tears are my release then. When I am not soothed by the physical or by his words, I cry. And slowly and surely, my emotion and need is released in each mini wave of tears. I am self regulating by crying. Hmmmm.

I also know I comfort eat for the same reason. When doing something stressful, I will ‘wake up’ from my stress obsessed thoughts and find myself in the kitchen cramming something in my mouth. Honestly, I catch myself doing it.

These waves of emotion are more common around my period. There is no surprise there. Wildcard knows it too – he said that I just need to get it out and I will be ok tomorrow. Hmph.

Before you think him callous and unfeeling, know that on these occasions whilst not giving into my repeated and needy demands for verbal affection, he will not end a call until I am tear free. He will attempt to make me laugh, change the subject but will not go until he is sure I am OK.

And that, with tears in my eyes as I write this, is how he shows me love.



The days have continued to be eventful but weirdly, I have been relatively calm.

I’ve got into a nasty habit of checking in on three apps multiple times a day. Probably boredom. Facebook, WordPress and my email account.

Occasionally, when really bored, I will watch some of the weird videos on Facebook. I say weird, but actually, I found my favourite motivational speaker on there: Mel Robbins.

So, two days ago, and I don’t know how else to explain this, I watched a series of videos and read a series of articles that made something shift in my brain. It was a combination of posts and videos from different motivational speakers who actually said a similar thing. It was about taking action on your dreams and the power of visualisation. It made sense. As a depressed or anxious person, you dwell or ruminate on the negative. Therefore you feel negative. Such a simple concept really and not one I haven’t read before but somehow the triad of approaches made something click.

The articles I read were actually about narcissism. I hate the way society jumps on a bandwagon and there seems to be an obsession or trend with narcissists and red flags. Anyway, following my London friend’s query about whether Wildcard may be narcissistic, I had to look into it.

He does have traits – maybe we all do – but not all. I don’t believe he is a narcissist, nor am I qualified to label him, but again the fact that he had traits made something shift in my brain.

So that evening, in the silence created by the dying embers of his sulking, I decided to broach the subject of the summer. If you remember, I have my original flights for August – the ones I booked months ago before my impromptu trip in July as he had spoken of us travelling maybe. I have one week to change them. So, I broached it.

He was shocked, bordering on contemptuous. I could tell you how this disagreement covered two days but I won’t bore you. I will try to be succinct.

He couldn’t understand why I wanted to come back so soon. When I reminded him of what he had said, the ‘come when you want’, the ‘come next month’ and the travelling, he denied it. After some miscommunication resolving, I understood the following:

  • ‘Come next month’ was said to me when I was upset to calm me but he never expected me to actually do it.
  • The travelling trip was an either-or. By coming in July, the possibility of the trip was cancelled.
  • He didn’t want me to come in July and had always wanted me to come in August.

There was talk of it being too soon, he needed to relax between visits. He said his brothers may be visiting and he may be travelling with extended family.

I didn’t cry. Can you believe that? I was strong. I was angry even. I was…more like myself. It was also my turn to sulk. I told him he clearly didn’t miss me like I missed him. That I had assumed he would want to see me whenever we could, like me. That I clearly wasn’t that important to him.

He said it had nothing to do with missing me – if that was the case, he would want me there every month. He talked of needing to ask his parents again and I told him not to bother. I’d had my answer.

Of course he did anyway, and they were happy for me to return though it was clear he still wasn’t and the call ended on a sour note.

However, ten minutes later, he had messaged me apologising. His parents had apparently shouted at him for not letting me come. They were happy for me to come. He said that he would speak to his brothers and let me know. I told him that if he didn’t want me to come so soon, I wouldn’t. He replied that we would speak tomorrow.

I still didn’t cry. Sure there were times when my eyes threatened it, but I didn’t cry. I am not sure I can explain why. It is possible that because my mind has been consumed with him and dreams of our future, the thought that this may not happen has contributed to my anxiety. Perhaps the realisation that he isn’t perfect, that maybe he does have narcissist traits and that this had led me to feel this way (both good and bad) has cleared my mind a little. The realisation that actually, my imperfections may not lead my to losing the man of my dreams but a man I had dreamed about and idealised. That it can be his imperfections which may end it, not mine, has contributed to my mind shift.

Yesterday, after work, we spoke again at length in an attempt for me to understand him. He was stressed and agitated. He reiterated his parents liking me and being happy for me to come. But then proceeded to both explain why he thought it was too soon but also to tell me that he would speak to his brothers.

In summary, what I have gathered is, me coming causes a certain amount of pressure and stress which is not unwelcome but he wants a break. I also think there are financial implications which he hinted at but denied when questioned. It was an either or – July or August – and the July trip caused him a lot of worry about me. He feels a return in October or November is better but if I want to come I can come at the end of August. He said I wasn’t thinking of him and his family and only of myself and my desire to be with him. I argued that I only thought I could return so soon based on his words which have turned out to be false in an attempt to calm me.

Despite his determination for me to understand him, he has repeatedly said he will speak to his brothers. I keep telling him I won’t come.

In a weird way, this has kind of cleared the air and eased my tension. I can’t pretend I’m not a little hurt, but my anxiety has eased. The truth has settled my overriding ruminating.

In discussions with two of my Facebook friends, we have all concluded that he just needs more time for whatever reason. He wasn’t ready to talk about our future and he is not ready for me to come regularly. Despite his courteous assurances that I am family, I am in fact still a guest and I knew that really.

I’ve done that typically insecure thing of jumping on a suggestion, a possibility, letting my desires and dreams take over and then panicked when they didn’t come into fruition. They were my dreams, not his. We haven’t got to the point of discussing and deciding upon our dreams together.

This morning, it is like the world has shifted. We have gone back to normal, back to the way we used to be – an hour’s call of me laughing at him and him laughing because I am. The pressure has lifted, and if I am being honest, it is the pressure that I had applied.

I’m some ways, and this is real far out thinking, I feel like we have passed a test almost. One of my biggest fears has always been that I am like his exes – completely in love with him whilst he is happy but with no real intentions. I am aware that each of his exes hit the point of demanding a decision, a formalisation of the relationship. Every time he has ended the relationship. In a sense, I have done the same thing. The difference is, he hasn’t ended it. I know I am different to them. And this has now confirmed it. But at the same time, I must not make their mistakes and chase and pressure him. I need to have faith in our relationship now and let time to what it needs to.

He needs time. We need time. And at last, I don’t see that as a bad thing.


For want of a better title, this little word with have to do. I do it a misjustice – those two letters, with a simple change of tone can cover a complex array if emotions. Which, considering, is quite apt.

I’m in a weird state of head- numbness. I say this because whilst my head feels devoid of emotion – never a good sign- my stomach is beating its own tune of woe and pain, signally the churning effects of anxiety and angst.

But my head? It could be a bit of shock or it could be a bit of ‘I told you’ and maybe ‘I was expecting this’. It maybe a bit of hope and a little disbelief in my own judgement.

So what’s the problem?

Let’s go back a day and I will fill you in.

After my previous post and the realisation that I hadn’t heard from Wildcard in five hours, I decided to send a quick text asking if he was OK and wishing him a good day with his family at the wedding.

I was rewarded with a series of video calls which spanned the rest of the afternoon and early evening. He included me in this wedding by showing me every part of it and by including his mother on the screen to wave at me and say hello. This was a real sign of thawing and I had more hope that the end of his sulking was nigh. His quick call when he got home showed that whilst a little kiss was permitted, the sulking hadn’t quite gone altogether.

Yesterday morning was similar. I had my morning call. No affection as such but he told me to take care and have a good day. He even, unsolicited, sent me a beautiful photo that he had taken of him and his mum. Then…nothing again. Knowing his shift patterns had changed a little, I waited and waited.

I had an online appointment at 3pm and so messaged at 2pm to let him know. I had a reply at 2.55pm and he let me know he was still working. I even got a heart. So yes, I was feeling positive we had turned a corner.

When he finished work he called and we chatted almost as normal. He told me his cousin had just had her baby and that they may go to visit. My departing kiss was declined but he called again within the hour on the way to visit and again when he got there. So, in terms of frequency and purpose all was well. Affection was hit and miss.

He called as he was leaving and then once he got home. His conversation, whilst lacking at times, was better. I even got the beginnings of some of his sillier, jokey behaviour which is a really good sign.

Am I giving you too much detail? For my own benefit as well as yours, I am trying to prove why I thought things were going the right way.

In the evening, he mentioned a gift for his birthday that I had been unable to bring as it had arrived after I had left. He asked if I had sent it yet. I said no, but I would just bring it with me. He frowned in surprise. ‘Why don’t you just send it?’ I replied that it would probably be quicker if I brought it when I came next.

‘Are you serious?’

I want to tell you that it was a look of pleasant surprise on his face but it wasn’t. ‘When are you coming?’

‘I don’t know. You said next month sometime. You said we may travel.’

What?‘ Genuinely, it was like he had no idea what I was talking about. My heart sank. So he hadn’t meant what he said.

He then turned to his mother and, glancing at me, I can only assume told her that I wanted to come back next month. He laughed a little as he spoke.

And that is the ‘oh’ moment for me. The lid has gone on the coffin, and whilst it may not be sealed yet, the fact there is a coffin says it all.

A man in love would want me to visit as soon and as often as possible. He would repeat what he had said before- that it was my home too, I could come when I wanted, the flights were cheap so come next month. He didn’t. He laughed.

Maybe it is surprise. Maybe it is shock I want to return so soon. Maybe I exhausted his poor mother. Maybe he was still angry. Maybe he just isn’t missing me yet. Maybe I have taken their words too literally. Maybe I am crazy.

This morning I have woken similarly numb. And dazed. I don’t know how or who to be. Do I message or not? Do I give up and leave it to him or not?

I’m lost.

Tears and fears and talking part two

My daughter tells me that I am not the same anymore. I’ve lost a strength – in her words, my ability to say what I think, argue my point. She said the mum she used to know wouldn’t have put up with either men – my exes mood or Wildcard’s sulking. My son – the one with ADHD – said that I am too nice sometimes.

I’ve lost my fight. I’ve know that for a long time, since my Dad became terminal. I lost my fight on the day the darkness decended and I succumbed to burnout/depression/break down or whatever you want to call it. The last part of my fighting died when my dad did. I’m a different person now.

I’m not fighting my job loss. I’m not fighting with my ex for being unreasonable and I’m not fighting with Wildcard for also being unreasonable. I don’t fight with my sisters when they take me for granted (which really annoys my kids). I don’t fight with my kids when they also take me for granted. I have, in all honesty, become a bit of a door mat.

So, as mentioned in my previous post Part one, this morning when Wildcard called me I was asleep. The call was brief, he was frosty (❄❄❄). He called back an hour later. I was asleep again, because that is what soft, depressed and overly anxious people do. He was getting ready for the wedding and looked delicious. The call was short and he said we would speak later.

Half an hour later he called again. This time I pretended that I had been awake when in reality I had gone back to sleep. He was sat in the car waiting for his family. I could see his nerves, how he is when he is doing something out of the ordinary. I could hear it in his conversation with his parents. He put his mum on the phone and we spoke briefly. I told her I miss her and she asked about my youngest. I told her that he wants to come to visit.

Wildcard then came back on the phone and he said he was going and that he would be busy so it would be later. I asked him to message when he arrived and he agreed. I got my take care ❄❄.

To my surprise, when he arrived he not only messaged but called me as well. A quick call, but appreciated nonetheless. That was five hours ago now but not unexpected.

What was unexpected was the conversation I had with my ex this afternoon.

He has finally thawed out – it has taken him a week to talk civilly to me. Today he was back to normal. We actually talked though – about the situation with Wildcard and how things have progressed. I warned him that I may well go back soon and he said that was expected. I also suggested that all three children have asked to go at some point, which is true, but hinted that I may take my youngest sooner rather than later.

The upshot? He has accepted accepted situation and the apparent seriousness of my relationship. He said he was shocked and hurt at first but is happy for me. He knows that the children may want to go and won’t stop me taking them. He even offered to speak to Wildcard to confirm that he wasnt happy about picking me up from the airport either. He apologised for his mood and said he was over it now.

It was a relief. Whilst his mood would never stop me – which he acknowledged – I feel better knowing that he can now be calmer and that an obstacle between Wildcard and I has effectively been removed. I am free to visit again without hassle and I can take my children unchallenged.

So what now?

It is up to Wildcard. If our disagreement has had one positive outcome it is that in our arguing I told him exactly how I feel and what I want, some of which I couldn’t say to his face. I told him I want to marry him, spend my life with him and have a baby with him. Deep.

Ideally, whilst I have the opportunity, I would like to take my youngest over. He and Wildcard have a great relationship and his mother has a soft spot for him. As he is under 12, there are limited Covid rules for him to worry about but I would need to ensure that I follow all guidelines to keep him safe. Out of all three of my children, he is the one who needs me and missed me most and the one who needs care when I am not here. By taking him, we are moving the relationship forward. Wildcard himself suggested a holiday at a seaside resort for my children and him. It seems like an ideal solution.

I’m hoping we are now in a steady thaw. In the next few days, all being well, he will be back to normal. I’m hoping that when I share with him what my ex has said he will feel better about everything. It is also an indication of how serious our relationship is becoming.

I know there will be those of you reading who will not like the way he has behaved in the last few days. I get that. I can only say that, if I knew an ex had given him a ride home, I probably wouldn’t have liked it either. This is who he is. He is not perfect or flawless. But I accept this about him in as much as he accepts my anxiety and nervous crying. I hope, anyway.

Return to the doghouse, or, rejection.

I’ve been home a few days now. I did start to write a post about my final day but didn’t know how to finish it.

I slept the majority of the two days I’ve been home so far. I don’t know why. Sure, travel tires you but I don’t normally feel this tired. I hurt my neck in the journey home- my back pack was far too heavy and I felt it pull. Since then I have limited motion to the right and felt sick with the pain. Maybe that’s what is wrong.

And maybe it is a lot of things.

Perhaps it is the state of the house. I left my 17 year old, seemingly mature daughter to take care of the pets. She had friends round and her Dad and aunties checked on her. The house was a mess. Think: sour milk that never got to the fridge, pizza boxes with mouldy pizza in and enough empty soft drink bottles to make a raft. Oh and she hasn’t washed a towel in two weeks. However, the pets are all well and alive so that is something. I’ve never left her alone before so maybe this is typical.

Maybe it is that I now need to think seriously about my future. I need to find a job or start my business. My hope of coming home with a sense of the future was dashed – I know that I must plan for myself alone.

Maybe it is the fact that my ex is barely speaking to me for going to see Wildcard and Wildcard is now barely speaking to me because he found out that my ex and daughter ended up getting me from the airport when my sister let me down. Yep, figure that one out.

And then this morning I was woken by my nearly 50 year old half sister – the one I haven’t spoken to for three years – at 6.30am crying and hammering on the door. She was drunk, in distress, and had fallen out with my even more aggressive half brother who had pushed her over. I have lots and lots of bad history with her, but I have good also. She is very much alone – a fact she is aware of as much as her blame for that. My Dad would be heartbroken to see her like that. She is involved with a man who is no good and as I sat there and watched her I just felt awful. She has told me some of the things he has said to her, apparently in jest, and I could see how this has made her change her appearance. His drinking and drug use have clearly increased her own drinking. But most of all, I just saw someone who was lost. Missing her Dad (she has no mum) and just craving love and attention to the point of changing herself. I saw me. And I didn’t like it.

How much of what I feel for Wildcard comes from that loneliness, that desperation for love and acceptance? I have lived a life rejected by my half siblings, simply for being born. In turn they have marginalised me from the rest of my dad’s family- only the ones who don’t get on with them, get on with me.

However much they chased me afterwards, my ex husband, my first boyfriend and Lost Soul played with my feelings enough and let me down to the point of rejection. I forgave and accepted and tried, but in the end gave up on them. Once I’d given all I had, there was no more going back – regardless of their promises and pain and love.

I’ve had issues with friends – the one who rejected me because of my relationship with Wildcard for example. And now there is work. Rejection if ever I’ve felt it. I’m not wanted.

So what if, my desperation for a life with Wildcard comes from that? He has shown me undue attention in two years. He is deliciously handsome and funny and knows me like no other. What if my desire to run away from the rejection here is a key incentive in my commitment to him? I would be lying if I told you I hadn’t thought of starting a new life there.

And he does hurt me, from time to time. He says things to make me nervous. He can be childish and maybe even a little spiteful – he’s angry with me now (even though he says he isnt) so his response to my ‘I love you’ is ‘I know’. Oddly, it hasn’t affected me like it usually does. I know him well enough to know why this has put him on edge. I know how he behaves when he feels this way. And I know, usually, it will blow over. He is still calling me and answering my calls and texts. He will stew, he may discuss, he will forget. Maybe.

But no matter which way you look at it, I was desiring more ‘finality’ in our relationship than he was. And that feels like rejection too. Maybe he isn’t ready. Maybe it is finances. Maybe he wants to meet my children. Maybe it is too soon for his parents. Maybe my behaviour freaked him out. Maybe I want too much, too soon. Maybe it is not meant to be.

And this, then, is my problem. I’ve lost all faith in my own judgement and thinking. The more I think, the less I know. The more I think, the more possibilities my stupid brain comes up with. So many, that I can reject and accept everyone with no clear decision on which is most likely.

So, I’m in the doghouse. And I’ve a feeling that I am the only one who can get myself out.

Day 15 and 16 – rosemary and scams

I’m sat in Seville in a cafe just outside the famous castle. That is my next stop.

It has been an eventful 24 hours.

I had an easy flight, simple arrival apart from a slightly over friendly Tunisian man who scared me a little. He was sat next to me on the plane – 30s, tall, smelled good, polite – and he told me that he lived in Seville but had just had a little holiday. When I had got on the plane I had seen him talking to a woman and children, putting suitcases into the baggage for them. I assumed that he was husband and had ended up sitting alone.

As the plane stopped he gallantly helped me with my case. As we stood waiting to get off, he asked me if I had a hotel booked and when I was flying home.

He then started to have a conversation in Spanish on his phone and I caught the word ‘English’ and the name of my hotel. Alarms went off.

As I stepped off the plane, I stopped to secure my bags and noticed that he was now alone, not with the mother and children. He walked ahead of me and we walked into the terminal. As we wove through the bollards towards passport control, he gave me a thumbs up. I noticed he continued to look at me. I admit, I was slightly freaked out by this point. He was in front of me in the queue, probably 6 or 7 people. I saw him turn, look at me, and then approach me, asking if I was OK. I replied that I was, thank you, and he returned to his place.

He turned out to be just a gentleman. Not lurking outside the airport or my hotel as my imagination dictated.

I can perhaps blame this for then missing my bus stop. Ironically, I had changed hotels to be close to the airport on a straight bus run. By the time I had realised and attempted to speak to a number of other passengers, I was about a 30 minute walk from my hotel.

It was scorching hot, I was alone (the Spaniards were in siesta), I don’t speak Spanish and I had little idea where I was.

Eventually I arrived at the hotel and to my room. After a chat with Wildcard and a shower, I attempted to get the bus into the city but failed. I walked back to the hotel, hot and sad and wishing I was with Wildcard.

This morning, I haven’t faired much better.

The taxi came late. I arrived at the airport for my covid test and discovered three things:

  • You didn’t need to book the test. I could have come at any point.
  • I didn’t need the expensive and time consuming PCR and could have had the rapid test.
  • Spanish nurses are evil. I swear she was trying to kill me.
  • Oh, and I had booked the test for the day before. Luckily, the handsome white coat clad male sorted it.

After surviving being impaled by a covid testing stick, I then struggled to find my way out of the airport to the ill-fated city bus. I spoke to two security guards who didn’t speak English, was sent to a post box and then eventually was saved by a good citizen who happened to speak excellent English.

A bus ride and google led walk later and I’m here.

Apart from being scammed by a Spanish gypsy woman who offered my rosemary, read my palm in Spanish and then wanted €10 – she got €5 – I have managed to find my way around ok, have eaten a delicious cheese and avocado toast which I was assured was gluten free and am about to go and look at the castle.

I should be proud of myself and invigorated. But all I want is to be back with him. He has just called and I could have cried. Again. I just wanted to be with him. Oh well.

Day 14 – last

So, this is my last day.

I had a moment of shock yesterday when I realised the time of my flight, the 2.5 hours I needed to be there before my flight and the hour needed to get to the airport. Tomorrow, then, I will leave his home at 11.30am. In my head, I had the whole morning and early afternoon with him. Damn 24 hour clock.

He looked at me and said that I was acting like this was the final time I would be here. I can’t deny a part of me worries about that, like a part of me worries about every last scenario. What a waste of energy. If only I knew how to stop it. After 41 years, I still have no idea.

Today when Wildcard comes home from work, we may go out. He has talked of us going to a local beauty spot or maybe to the nearest city. I’m happy with both or either. I just want to be with him.

Disappointingly, neither of us woke early enough for our morning cuddle. He came in to my room, late for work, and gave me hasty kisses on my lips and neck, cold from the water he had used to wash. A missed opportunity. Hopefully not the last.

Day ? (9) – glow

I’ve lost track of days. I left Sunday so today is day 9, Monday

Day 7…well. I wrote a post but didn’t publish. Short story…I sulked, he joked, we kissed and made up. And that’s all I’m going to say.

Yesterday we had an amazing day. He drove us three hours to the beach. It was such a fabulous day and I loved every second. We had a boat ride and a walk through the busy market. I paddled on the beach but Wildcard was scared I would get swept away if I swam. And I glowed every time he grabbed my hand as we crossed the road, or rested his hands on my waist for just a minute, or called me baby in front of his parents. Not just because each one of these things showed affection but even more because he probably shouldn’t do them but he does .

When we got home, tired and hungry, we ate and laughed together…me and his mum teasing him. I loved that too.

Today was another good day, apart from planning my return flights. With a week to go, I needed to confirm bookings and transport and it was a sombre moment. But he was affectionate and loving, not letting me leave him, kissing me.

Think is, I don’t want to leave him.

Day 4 – avoiding a crisis

I woke at 4am this morning. It had taken me a little while to get to sleep but it helped to listen to relaxing music.

I went to the bathroom and when I came out Wildcard was there. He followed me into the bedroom and repeatedly asked if I was OK. I told him I had just woken but I was fine.

We both returned to our beds and within minutes he had messaged me.

He asked again if I was OK, seriously? I was touched by his concern.

The thing was, there is something. I have a long standing issue with my eyes – I get the Coldsore virus on my lids. It flares up from time to time, usually when I am tired, stressed or run down. So you can guess what happened when I woke at 4am. I knew it was coming.

The medicines I take for this are only given when I have a flare. I had a few tablets left over from last time – naughty I know – as if I take them as soon as the symptoms start I can sometimes stop it from developing. Waiting for a hospital appointment delays that.

When I left my home, I had started with the coldsore virus in my nose. I started the tablets and within a day it had healed. I took the last tablet yesterday, just in case.

Wildcard was worried I would get ill. So at 4am, he probably sensed my nerves rather than my eye as it has not yet developed. Again this morning, with our morning kisses, he asked if I was OK and made me promise I would tell him if I was not. I mentioned my eye and he asked if I had brought medicine, as agreed. I said I had.

He went off to work with a kiss, commenting that I could unpack my clothes in his wardrobe – again, another gorgeous sign that I am family.

Immediately after he left, his mother came in to ask if I was OK. I told her about my eye, and showed her my medicine on my phone which was available to buy in their country. She suggested we go to the pharmacy which conveniently is downstairs from their apartment – I had planned at 4.30am to sneak there myself – I could tell that she, and later his dad was worried.

The pharmacist was relaxed and spoke some English, and I was able to show my empty packet and the name of the medicine in his language. It is ordered and will arrive at 2.30pm. Within a few days, my eye should be fine.

I have travel insurance and could go through them, but this is easier. Apart from when Wildcard finds out.

If we are to continue in this relationship in whatever form, then I will come to stay and at some point I will be sick. It worries me less than it worries him. Hopefully he will worry a little less when he sees this is sorted now.

Day 2 – feels like 200 – heaven

I’m flying, again. This time, the plane is full. I will not tell Wildcard this. He may pass-out.

The sea, sky, horizon is a beautiful hazy blue. Heavenly. Strangely, the only clouds in the sky seem to be over the small islands we are passing. I’m sure there is a scientific reason for that but it amuses me that it may have a human reason – us miserable land dwellers with our woes like clouds over our heads.

As we took off and I saw houses and ships and even sealife coming to the surface, I realised…there is a big old world put there. We focus so much on our little part of the world, our little life, and yet there is so much more out there. If work find out I’ve come, then, so what? I’m alive and there is life to be had outside that school.

When I’m not gazing at the heavenly blue sky or the little islands we pass by I’m thinking about Wildcard (of course I am). Much like my first visit, I’m wondering of he is nervous like me. When will he kiss me? Will I be able to feel how things have changed between us?

But soon, soon I will be with him.