I suspect I've been a little bit vague since receiving your little note 2 days ago. My mind has wandered off somewhere and expects me to follow, but here I am sitting at the keyboard wondering what's going on. It's like a phase shift has occurred, somewhere deep within, I'm here but I'm not here, I'm thinking about you all the time and distracted as all hell. I'm at home, watching TV or eating dinner or doing something completely mundane, but all I can really think about is what you are doing this very minute. The best part of me is out there, floating around somewhere and living another life.

The terrifying part I think is still to come, when that same part of me that's floating in euphoria comes to the realisation that, uh, nothing's going to change. We're still not going to be together. We're still married to other people and that's the way it's going to stay. I'm still not going home to you, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Your life will never be my life. Your children will never be my children. We have no future, only a ghost of a present and a very well remembered, well treasured past.