I am a hopeless romantic. A silly, ridiculous, foolish romantic. I live in a fantasy land. I need to get real. And now, for the first time, I want to get real. I want a real relationship with a real man in the real world–-with all the real problems, faults, and whatever comes with it.

And like a soprano shattering glass, Juliet heard something snap deep inside. It was the sound of her heart breaking.

I don't understand it myself, really. It's like the idea of him is better than the him of him

It is always the silly things that remind me

My chest tightens: seeing him so upset breaks my own heart. 'Don't you ever wish you could make that bit go away?" I say, feeling angry at the past. 'That you could erase those painful memories, forget they every happened, just remember the happy times you had together?' 'You must never say that,' he reprimands sternly. 'But why not?' I look at him in surprise. 'Because it's the bad memories that makes you appreciate the good ones. Don't ever wish them away. it's like your nan always used to say, "You need both the sun and the rain to make a rainbow".

Not doing anything can be worse than doing the wrong thing.

Time has a funny way of airbrushing relationships, removing all the things that were wrong so when you look back it looks much better than it really was.