Leaving

It seems so quiet here since you went. The dog's more settled, the cat's more content. My friends seem to visit much more than before and I can visit the pub without starting a war Now the dust has settled the house is just fine. I order my groceries and things online and the fit widow woman down the road does my washing and ironing by the load. Darts league on Wednesdays and the odd game of pool, footy on Saturday with some old mates from school all keep me active and stop me feeling bereft which could so easily happen to me since you left. I'm managing to cope, with the odd glass of wine, when I'm feeling depressed, but then I'm just fine. When you walked out the door I didn't think I could but now I'm much happier than I ever thought I would. My ongoing rehab means I have to endure a fortnight away on the French Cote d'Azure. But if it will help fill the ache in my heart I'll just grin and bear it, I suppose it's a start. So there's no need to worry that I'm not sleeping at night, you're the last person I think of when I turn out the light. So I'm holding my end up with great fortitude and thinking of having my tea in the nude.