I am overcome by a feeling of complete detachment. I am a mere object to these people. I am barely human any more.

And the very important fact that I'm here to worry with you and go through all of this - every little bit of it - by your side, even your worst-case-scenario, should it somehow come to that. You wouldn't be doing any of it alone.' Her voice drops and she looks down at our hands, fingers entwined, resting on her lap. 'Whatever happens, there will always be us.

But whichever form it took it brought with it, in those moments of bitter anguish, such a desperate surge of hope that it was almost untouchable, and flitted away like a golden butterfly into the bright blue sky - beautiful, unreachable and completely transistent.

Get through today – you can fall apart tomorrow. Get through tomorrow, you can fall apart the day after . . .

I am overcome by a feeling of complete detachment. I am a mere object to these people. I am barely human any more.

But I don't want to be fine, not if it means she's going to let go of my hand; not if it means we're going to go back to being polite strangers.

It's always nice being wanted. Even if it's by the wrong person.