So now I’m 3 bottles of Bulmers down, the 3 kids are sat downstairs with me (never happens) and I’m so relaxed. It’s the youngest bedtime soon. And I’m debating if I’m wrong? But no I am not! She threw my passport off the 10th floor, last week in Benidorm on our last night! POOF! Gone! Gone was my passport, gone was the flight, gone was all hope of touching home soil where I was safe! That’s a whole other story, well it’s the final story to be exact to where I have finally got the strength to leave. So yeah fuck you alcohol, it’s not me, it never was.
I do love her, my heart hurts! How can I stand back and watch her eventually meet someone else? Because she is mine. My world. I know she loves me. She loves me and carnt help it sometimes.
