Today I will mostly be .. crying. 8 days and counting.

I'm not sure exactly what's wrong with me today, but I have spent the best part of it so far blubbing. I did manage to fit in a client meeting in the midst of the trauma, paste a banana grin on my face and endure a whole hour without my eyes leaking but it was a close call. As soon as I got back in the car with my colleague - tears again. I can only think that it is because I still feel crappy from this stomach bug, and tired and just unable to cope with everything (which is very, very unlike me). Last night A and I had one of our usual chats in bed that ended up with a strange conversation where he told me that if he didn't have much time left, he wanted me to know that I shouldn't plan on spending the rest of my whole life alone, and that if I should happen to meet some guy who made me happy then I should go ahead and be happy and live a life without him. He said that no one would ever be able to take what we have together away from us and that we have such incredibly happy memories that will always remain - no matter what. I am still traumatised by this conversation. Perhaps because it raises the question of what if I have to live without him, although all my efforts and everything I can do will be focusing on this not being the case. I have had, well, let's be blunt, a fairly chequered history with men. Married twice before, once far too young and a near drowning some years later resulted in my realising that I had changed and moved in a completely different direction (away from my husband). Then after turning 30 I married an american psychologist who I met in New York - not realising he was an alcoholic. I am sure you can all imagine the ending of that tale. Let's just say it wasn't pretty, so I wasn't really looking for a bloke when I met A - we started out as friends. With A everything was different. We were always, and will always be blunt and honest with each other, even or especially when those truths are hard. Despite the fact that we only been together the last 3 years, I know without doubt or reserve that he is my "one". And I cannot imagine life without him - he is the toast to my beans, the bubbles in the champagne - life without him in it is frankly unthinkable. It scares me, and it scares me that we are talking about it. Tomorrow, hopefully, the world will stop falling out of my bottom (how many probiotic drinks and ginger tea it takes to get to that point is anyone's guess - but I think I am on track!) and I shall be able to function in a rational manner rather than the weeping wailing drama queen I am today.