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I honestly thought I'd be writing this post as a single man again. I even started thinking of titles in my head. "Reset." "Failure." "Castaway." "One is one and all alone and evermore shall be so." I also wondered what I'd say, how I'd craft it, how I'd deal with the emotion. How overcome I'd be. What would I wrote about? I thought about it in the shower last night. I'd write about being single, how I coped quite well with being single and was very self-effacing about it, starting this blog to chart how I felt about sex, especially when I couldn't find any, and record my failure to get any good sex through any means...

...but, however I felt about being single, I couldn't handle the thought of living without TD, the girl I have been in love with for two and a half years now, and continuing onwards. I have, I'll admit, spent the last two or three days thinking that our relationship was coming to an end. Not that I wanted that, but I thought she did. That's the way my mind works. It says, "your girlfriend is annoyed with you, she's going to dump you." I've no idea where that idea comes from. A mixture of films, perhaps, and my past history of relationships, where I let myself get walked over.

We had an argument on Thursday evening. That is to say, we had what's as close to an argument as we have, given our different temperaments. It's not easy to do over the 'phone, really. It's not easy in any case, when you consider that she likes to fight until the argument burns out, whereas I like to resolve and peacebuild without any aggression. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. In any case, this argument wasn't being solved in any particular way. I was trying to explain, she was claiming that I couldn't see her side of things (which is true, I couldn't)...

The implications scared me. She didn't want to see me. I didn't want to push it. I spent three days in a very uneasy state of mind. I saw my friends, I kept busy. The rest of the time, I locked myself in my room. I didn't want to talk to anyone - least of all my mother. I lay on my bed, reading Peanuts and resisting the urge to call TD, tell her how much I missed her. My stomach cramped up and made me groan with the pain. I had no idea how I'd go back to work today and be able to do it with any motivation or drive. At points, I cried.

Last night, I called her, as I always do. She wanted to talk. We talked. We talked a lot. At the end of it all, everything fell back into place - as it should do. At one point, I said the phrase, "can we be in love again?" But, to be honest, there was no doubt about that. I reached for the bedtime story, a spark lit in my heart which I thought I may have been unable to grasp again.

Do I love her? Yes, yes I do. I do. I do. I do.