I spent a lot of yesterday in tears, sobbing my little heart out til my head ran out of tears and snot. The crying then became dry, and the sobs became more like hiccups. Finally, the hiccups softened into sighs, and misery turned into resignation.

It was Sunday night - Time to leave Beloved, time to put my life on pause, time to go back to that constant irritation; Reality.

Every time I looked at him, I realised that I wouldn't be able to look at him tomorrow. I wouldn't be able to enjoy the casual body contact, or the easy intimacy that we shared. I wouldn't be able to reach out and squeeze his hand. I wouldn't be able to feel his arms holding me close. Yeah, I know all this sounds sappy and unbecoming of a geek-girl, but every time I have to leave him, it feels like I'm dead inside.

I miss him so much that I'm starting to resent my job. I'm starting to look at everything that's keeping me in London with such hostility that I dont know why I'm even here. I've got to watch my mouth, keep a leash on my tongue so that I dont lash out and burn all my bridges and mix all my metaphors. I'm learning that London means leaving Beloved. London, despite the population of 2600million people, means loneliness.

I miss him already.