Just got off the phone with my sister in Germany, she was phoning to tell me her new number now she's back in Germany. Of course, she asked how things were going with Steve. 'Oh, you know...' I said, non-commitally, cause I really didn't want to discuss it with her.

'So you're sleeping with him at the weekends?' She says. I laughed and said yes and she sang 'I know you so well...'

'Where's my real sister gone?' she asks, after I've filled her in properly. I realise that I know exactly what she means. As I've been talking, I've not been able to be animated like I usually am. Even the day of the barbecue I was better than this, managing to make a joke of it. Now I'm like one of those left-over kids' party balloons: not just deflated but shrivelled as well.

I feel like I'm powerless, like my destiny has been taken out of my hands - no, like I've handed over my destiny to someone else. It's making me a bit depressed, something I can only admit to my sister. The rest of the time I'm on this strange brittle high that has been my only way of keeping going.

Lucrezia was writing about how a woman's place is to wait. I'll only wait until the end of this week max. If he doesn't sort for me to stay then it's over - unless he makes an active choice. If he does sort it then he's going to have to make the choice, and if he doesn't (which is the situation at the moment) then I will take that as not choosing me and it'll be over too. At least I'll be master of my own destiny again.

I should feel better for having made a decision, but instead I still feel numb and empty. And tearful again.

I wish I could do as my sister says and not answer his calls or texts. Why do I keep giving him chances? Why can't I take my own advice and be stronger? Why am I so pathetic?

I know him inside out, I know all his flaws. Why do I still want him?