11 minutes to the new year. With under an hour to go before the year ends, I manage to have an argument with Ben. Not an argument per se, since I’m the only one doing the talking. More of a tirade.
This is not so different from last year, to be honest. As the year draws to a close, I can feel 12 months worth of bitterness and bile building up. The explosion is inevitable.
All those doubts I’ve had. All those suspicions point to the realisation that there really is nothing left to this relationship. The things he has done – and continues to do – have poisoned my soul so that every man is suspect. Every man is despicable. Every man is someone to hold in contempt and so, avoid.
Pop go the fireworks outside my window. Rosie lies asleep next to me. Ben is sitting in the living room.
Here comes 2014.