So yesterday went ok in the end. At work I chatted about what had happened with the boss and one of the assistants (they both know all the background) who didn't know what asking 'how was your weekend?' was going to unleash! They are both highly relieved, though mystified as to why he's done what he's done again. Lots of reminders to lock my doors, call the Police if I need to etc.

I've still not cried. Maybe I've cried enough in the past. Maybe I'm just not that sorry any more. The person I miss doesn't exist. The person who exists isn't one I want to be with. When I do feel sad I remind myself of how he has been recently, and that's enough to get me out of it.

There have been no visits or phonecalls. On one hand that is good because I was able to have what should have been a nice evening, really enjoyed Torchwood for example! But on the other hand I can't completely relax until he has all his stuff out of here (and has returned mine, though I'm not holding my breath on that one). There was a time when I would have taken it to him, but that time has gone. I don't feel like I want to see him, so it's up to him. But that means I am always slightly on edge.

To calm myself down, I eat comfort food. I sit in the dark (so he can't see me from outside, but I can see him if he approaches the house) and eat beans and cheese on toast. Perversely, the half stone I wanted off before the holidays has somehow shifted itself.

So now it's not an end I want so much as reassurance that he knows it is the end. That has to be up to him though, because I cannot contact him. Well, I can, but I won't be. I don't want to be in contact with him, I don't want to see him, hear him or read what he has to write.

I want to know he's gone away. I want to not jump when the cat flap bangs.