I was ok all weekend, but I think I'm coming down with a bang now.

All weekend I was so very ANGRY, that I didn't miss Steve and was able to be strong.

Saturday was a fantastic night out - you always know you've had a good time when you wake up with bruises you don't recognise and come downstairs to a trail of destruction from which it is possible to reconstruct the last moments before you flaked out unconscious!

Me and Sue spent most of the night talking to a couple of Portuguese blokes. Unfortunately the one I was interested in plainly liked her better, which is possibly how I ended up snogging the face off a 19 year old racing jockey called Ben.

Even I saw the error of my ways at this point, and asked to be taken home by Sue. Sadly, this seems to have resulted in Ben viewing me as some sort of Cinderella, rather than the ageing slapper that I am. He began texting me a 4am Sunday, which was a shocker as I didn't remember giving him my number.

Next thing I saw when I got up was my phone - with a 15 minute call to Steve on it. I immediately remembered how when I'd got to bed I'd seen a text from him on my phone, saying he was sorry, and lots of other things which I can't remember because I accidentally deleted it. So I phoned him. I remember him answering, quite distinctly remember the tone of his voice, but then remember NOTHING of the conversation. I looked like I'd been crying though.

Sent him a message saying 'Dunno what you said or I said but I hope it was that sorry is nowhere near good enough and there's only one way to get me back - non-negotiable'. That one way was for him to not go back to the lake district, which I knew was unlikely because then he'd be out of work, but it's the only way he can clean up and I can see that he's chosen me over Lauren.

No reply, which kind of pissed me off. So then what did I do but get involved. About 2pm I tried to phone him, but he switched the call to voicemail. So I stupidly texted and said 'I only wanted an explanation, but fuck off then. You've lost a caring person who loved you, and the best sex you'll ever have. I've lost a lying cheating smelly junkie loser. My new bloke is 19. HA!' (or something along those lines. Definitely smelly because he's been reeking like a tramp since he got back on the heroin).

Then I wasn't too bad for the rest of the day, went around in a fug of righteous anger and arranged to meet up with Ben.

This seemed like a good idea at the time, but now, today, I think it wasn't. I'm not ready.

Today I have felt terrible, crying all the time in my car (not at work, I'm too professional), and not able to eat. Everything seems to make me feel sick. I think about what he did with her, his betrayal of me, how he doesn't love me. I see things that remind me of him, things like my bag (!), or my mascara that he used to use sometimes, and that'll make me feel like throwing up. I'm so hungry it hurts, but when I think of food I can't face anything.

I still love him. After all he's done. No, that's not right, I don't love him as he is now, the person he's become. I love the man I fell in love with, who loved me. The man I was going to grow old with - we were going to torment care-home staff together. I'm grieving for a relationship that I lost when he went to the Lake District.

So what to do with Ben, who is weirdly keen (he knows how old I am), and texts me ALL the time? I think I am going to come clean. I think I'm going to do it now.