H came round earlier to swap pillows and duvets and give me some post. It’s his final day in Leeds today. I feel quite bad because he’s had to do loads and loads of cleaning. He’s hoovering and cleaning the outside of the windows and inside of the bins and I feel guilty because I haven’t had to do any of it. I did offer to help but he said it was ok.

And I feel sad. Sad because things haven’t worked out and I’m thinking how maybe things could’ve been different if we’d lived somewhere else – maybe I would’ve been happier if we’d had a garden or a cat, or if I hadn’t been so tired or we’d managed to sort that out sooner (although I’m not sure if I have sorted that out, I’m just sort of ignoring it), or if I’d appreciated him more and not made him feel guilty the whole time about being who he was and liking cars and racing. Because at the end of the day we did get on well and we did have fun. And I miss his hugs and his company and his friendship.