career · life · love · relationships · work

And so the adventure begins

As the first official post since I ditched my writing celibacy, it’s time for a well overdue update.

The Big J and I have (finally!) moved in together. Six years, one break up, one sassy pet rabbit, and here we are. We moved into a lovely two bedroom flat in a rural area just outside of London. It’s one of those old English quaint towns where people still say hello and bother to make conversation, a stark contrast to the: “Oi, fucking move,” and complimentary shove from commuters on the tube escalators. It only takes me an hour door to door to commute into the City every day, so I have the best of both worlds. After all, who would want to give up the morning commute on the ever-unreliable, always-overpacked tube? 😉

The Big J and I haven’t killed eachother yet, much to the dismay of my mother and grandparents. I’m pretty sure they had a sweepstake betting how long it would take us to have our first argument and me turn up on my mother’s doorstep, overnight bag in tow, shouting: “He’s such a DICKHEAD! Do you have any vodka in the fridge?”

Interestingly, we’ve been getting on a lot better than anyone thought (including me). We’re famed for our blow out arguments over the years, and it’s a running joke a3304-96131mongst my friends that I’m too used to living by myself to co-habitat with a bloke. But aside from the odd domestic bicker about who’s turn it is to take out the rubbish bin and me providing the Big J with a live demo on how to actually place dirty clothes in the laundry basket rather than on the floor… it’s going really well.

We’ve even semi-adopted a fat tabby cat who belongs to a lady a few blocks down from us, but who seems to prefer curling up on our sofa and watching the rabbit hopping around. She won’t actually get too close to her for fear of the rabbit charging at her (yes, really!)

Things seem to be going really well with me and the Big J, and I really hope it stays that way. It was always a big step, moving out together, but as my Nan told me one evening with a bottle of rose firmly clutched in one hand: “You’ll never know until you try. If it all goes tits up, you move out. But he loves you, you love him, so fuck it. Go for it.” She then proceeded to drink the whole bottle of wine with the same stamina as a bunch of uni freshers. She’s my hero.

I’m really happy, The Big J makes me happy. The only aspect of my life which is down shit’s creek at the moment is work. I used to really enjoy my job, but over the last year it’s become a minefield of office politics and corporate bullshit. It’s a primarily female dominated office, so you can imagine the bitchiness. It’s worse than being at high school. I try and keep out of it, but when some people are sitting whatsapping eachother slagging off whoever is sitting next to them… it makes me want to bash my head against the wall. At work functions it gets even worse, a drop of alcohol and the claws are out and girl drama erupts.

I’ve been at the company for two years, and I’m ready to move on. The problem is, I don’t know what to. I like my career field, admittedly it’s not something I thought I’d end up working in but I do enjoy the job itself for the most part. But ever since I was a little girl I always wanted to work in the media. I got my degree in the field and loved it… but when I graduated, I fell into the same spiral of most grads and took any well paid job because hell, it was a job and I had a shit load of student debt. I didn’t care what the job was as long as I could pay my rent, buy nice dresses, handbags, and go out drinking in posh bars.

But after a while the novelty of working in the city wore off and coupled with the shit storm of office politics, I started to think more about perusing a career in the media sector. I’ve contemplated studying for my masters degree part time in the evenings and still working full time, and making the career jump after I’ve done my masters degree. I guess I just don’t miss the student days of being at the maximum of my overdraft and downing red bull to write essays until 4am.  Plus the idea of working full time and studying for a masters… fuck. I’ll have no life.  But will it be worth it to increase the chances of breaking into the right career?

And so it begins….

life · writing


It’s been over 7 months since I last posted. I’ve dug my old little laptop out from under christ knows how many boxes and blown the dust off it (the poor thing practically groaned at being started up again) and I’ve decided to put an end to my writing celibacy.

I took a break from writing for a while. It’s the first time in my life I’ve gone so long without it; when I was a kid I kept crates full of handwritten diaries and short stories and as I got older I switched to blogging and online publishing. Writing has always been my safety net, my go to. It’s always been a firm factor of my life. I went through some things in my person life a few months ago that made me question all of the constants in my life, and my relationship with writing took a hit.

It’s taken me a while to remember that writing is a large part of who I am, and always has been. As cliched as it sounds, without it I feel lost.

I’m back

Dating · life · Relationships · Travelling

The Blind Conflict Of Interest

ii“Fuck it.” I muttered angrily, as I pushed a strand of dripping wet hair away from my face. “Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it.”

It was 1am and I was standing in the middle of a thunderstorm, shivering. I had flown to Cyprus to visit my family and whilst I was there Cyprus decided to have a year’s worth of thunderstorms in one week.

I growled under my breath as I took in my surroundings. I was on the outskirts of the Cypriot town my Dad lives in, with the battery dead on my phone and my white jeans going completely see through.

“Men,” I spat angrily, as I trudged along the road side, “Are total wankers.”

I had flown out to Cyprus two days previously, and so far had a great couple of days catching up with friends and family. On my third night back in Cyprus an old friend of mine, let’s call him T, was keen to meet for a drink while I was there. We’ve been friends for over ten years and have known eachother since high school, and he’s someone I can safely say is one of my best male friends. I enthusiastically agreed to meet him for drinks one night, and donned my white jeans, wedges and burgundy swing top. I walked into a crowded bar full of locals and tourists alike, excited to see him. I hadn’t been to Cyprus for over a year and I’d really missed the country and people in it. I spotted T sitting on the sofas outside, lighting up a cigarette. I grinned.

“Hey you!” I exclaimed, swooping down to give him a hug. “Long time no see stranger!”

T stood up and wrapped me in a bear hug. “Hello missy! You look amazing! Come here you crazy shit, I’ve missed you.” He hugged me tighter, making me squeal. “Put me down!” I laughed as I playfully punched his shoulder. “I can’t breathe!”

T chuckled and set me back down on the ground, ruffling my hair. I sat down next to him and slid one of his cigarettes out from the packet. T rolled his eyes and passed me his lighter.

“Nothing’s changed there then,” he smiled as I lit up. “You always did nick my bloody fags.”

I winked at him and took a drag of the cigarette, before passing it back to him. “Come on then,” I said as I opened up the drinks menu. “Hit me. What’s being going on in your life?!”

We sat in the bar for the next couple of hours, drinking and laughing as we caught up on eachother’s lives. As I drained my third mojito, I was starting to feel bold.

“So, any special women in your life?” I asked, shooting him a coy look over my drink. “Anyone I need to beat the shit out of for breaking your heart?”

T chuckled, and signalled for the bill. “I wish I could tell you there was, but I’ve been so busy working the last few months I haven’t had much time for women. You women are too much effort, man! Come on, let’s go for a drive.”

We paid the bill and piled into his car, giggling. We drove around my old hometown, reminiscing about the drunken nights we had as teens drinking at beach parties and passing out on the sand, smoking behind the sheds at school, burning to a crisp in the summer months when we spent endless days tanning and swimming in the sea. We chatted about our old classmates and what they’re up to now, both of us giggling as we traded stories.

T slowed down as we approached the mountains on the outskirts of town, he guided the car up the steep cliff roads and drove us to the top of the mountains. He parked the car, and we sat and stared at the view.

Below us was the beautiful view of the Island lit up at night, the lights of houses below twinkling like beacons. I sighed as I took in the beautiful views of the place I had called home for years, the place that would always have my heart no matter how long I lived in London.

“Do you miss it?” T asked quietly as he switched off the ignition. “Do you miss this?”

I smiled sadly. “Every day. I miss it every day. But London is my home now, my whole life is in London. My mum, my friends, my job, my house- and my bloody rabbit!”

T laughed, shaking his head. “You can find work here, you can find a house here,  you can fly back and see your mum a couple of times a year. You can even fly your bloody pet rabbit over!”

I snorted with laughter, imagining sneaking my pet rabbit into my hand luggage. “It’s more than that though,” I continued. “The economy in Cyprus is terrible right now, I’d lose so much money if I moved back. I’d be an idiot to uproot everything I have in London to come back here. But it doesn’t stop me wanting to.”

I suddenly jumped as a deep thunder rumbled overheard. “Holy shit!” I exclaimed, peering out of the front window. “Is that thunder?! It never rains in Cyprus!”

T rolled his eyes. “Bullshit, it rains all the time this time of year. You just pretend it doesn’t. Looks like there’s going to be a storm.”

On cue, more thunder rolled and it started to rain. “Bugger,” T said as the rain hammered down on his car. “I’m not driving back down a mountain in this weather. We might be here for a while.”

He stretched back in his seat, pushing it as far back as possible. “Come on, the seats go back loads,” he said to me as he fiddled with the lever on my seat. “It’s a lot comfier than sitting upright.”

I pushed back the seat and we both stretched out, watching the rain fall. I yawned, feeling drowsy. I shut my eyes.

“Hey, are you awake?” T whispered some time later. I opened my eyes sleepily, disorientated. “Shit, I must have fallen asleep,” I mumbled as I sat upright. “It’s still raining.”

T watched me for a moment. “You look adorable sleeping,” he said softly. “I just wanted to wrap you in my arms.”

I paused, expecting him to follow this up with a funny remark to show he was only messing with me. I met his gaze, and all I saw was sincerity on his face.

“I… I need to tell you something.” He said quietly as he broke my gaze. “When you visited last year, I couldn’t stop thinking about you when you left. Everytime you messaged me from the UK it made me feel so warm, I found myself looking at your Facebook all the time, wondering how you were. I lost interest in other women and couldn’t get you out of my head. Seeing you again now…”

He trailed off and ran his hands through his hair. I sat in silence, shocked. “I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this,” he said, turning to face me. “But I love you. I’m in love with you. Part of me has loved you since we were 13. I want a future with you, I don’t just want to be your friend anymore. I want a life with you, kids with you.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he held up a hand to stop me.

“Before you say anything, hear me out.” He continued. “I know you think it won’t work. But we could try long distance, or you could move back here or I could move to the UK. I’ve known you for ten years, I know you inside out. I just want you, I want to make you happy.”

“T,” I said weakly. “Please stop. You’re one of my best friends. I had no idea you felt this way.”

“I know,” he said. “I know it’s a lot to take in. But I love you. And I need you to know that.”

“I got back together with The Big J last October, ” I said quietly. “I love him. We’re giving things another shot.”

T  recoiled in shock. “You’re back with him?” He spat angrily. “But you broke up! For a year! Why the fuck would you get back with him?”

“Because I love him.” I said simply.

T slammed his hand on the steering wheel furiously, and started up the engine. “T,” I said quickly as he swung the car into reverse. “I know you’re upset, but let’s talk about this. You can’t drive in this weather-”

He ignored me and speeded down the mountain roads, while I begged him to slow down. He swung around the sharp bends, his tyres skidding on the wet roads. I held onto the door handle, petrified he was going to drive us off the cliff. We eventually reached the bottom and he skidded to a stop.

“Get out.” He muttered. I opened my mouth to argue, and he leaned across me and pushed open the passenger door. “Get OUT!”

I unbuckled my seat belt and scrambled out of the car. Before I’d even had a chance to close the door he sped off, his tyres squealing.

I watched him go, shocked. Fuck.

I started walking back in the direction of town, along the deserted roads at 1am with the rain lashing down. I felt numb, completely shocked by what had just happened. My best friend lives close to where I was, so I half ran to her house as lightening struck. I ran faster and hammered on her front door.

“Hang on!” She yelled, crashing down the stairs. “One sec-”

She yanked open the door, her hair piled messily on her head and her eyes full of sleep. “Jesus, it’s 1am! What’s happened? Why are you so wet?”

“Because,” I said as I pushed past her into the house. “Men. Are. Fucking. Wankers.”


life · love · Relationships

Men Are From Mars

Bloody men. You can’t live with them, but you can’t live without them.

The Big J is getting on my last nerve, this week we had the worst argument we’ve had since getting back together. We’ve barely spoken all week and are both too stubborn to back down first. I knew we would have a blow up like this at some point, it was never going to be romance and roses forever. The honeymoon stage of getting back together definitely seems to have high-tailed it out the window, pronto.

Don’t get me wrong, I love The Big J and I would never want to be without him again. But MY GOD he’s a mighty pain in the arse sometimes. No one can push my buttons quite like he does, and I have never argued with anyone the way him and I argu117526743e. We don’t do things by halves, put it that way.

“Do you know what,” I yelled to him over the phone as I stomped around my living room, “You can bloody well sod off! You are SO selfish, and SO arrogant, and SO DAMN STUBBORN!”

I hung up the phone and angrily threw myself down on the sofa. “Fucking men!” I fumed to my pet rabbit, who was nibbling on some apple next to me. She gently nudged my hand.”What is WRONG with him!”

I angrily messaged one of my girlfriends and described The Big J in a very colourful vocabulary, the kind of words my mother would be horrified to hear (but the type my nan would cheer me on for and probably add a few of her own). I sighed and looked miserably at my blank phone screen, whilst my rabbit headbutted my hand in demand for a stroke. My phone rang.

“He’s being SUCH A DICK!” I fumed as soon as I picked up. It was my girlfriend. “AGHRRR! What is WRONG with men?!”

I heard a rustle in the background as my friend opened a bag of crisps.  “Hang on, let me get reinforcements,” she said cheerfully through a mouthful. “Right, knock yourself out.”

“He’s just so STUBBORN,” I moaned as I paced around my living room. “He’s UNBELIEVABLY selfish, and up himself, and self righteous, and he’s basically like Mark Darcy in Bridget Jones when he always folds his underpants! The Big J is the underpants! He’s the metaphor! Boxers that are folded so fucking tight you can’t breathe!”

There was a pause while my friend continued to munch her crisps thoughtfully. “Ok, first off that was a shit comparison. We both know Colin Firth could be as moody and grumpy as he wanted if it meant shagging him, he’s gorgeous.”

I nodded in agreement, picturing the fight scene between Mark Darcy and Daniel Cleaver in the first film. And in the fountain in the second film. Mmmm.

“Secondly,” my friend continued, opening her second bag of crisps by the sound of ripped packaging on the other end of the phone, “The Big J is just hot headed and so are you! He is in the wrong, but he’s too proud to admit it. And you are just as bad, and you’re also in the wrong. You wind him up too.”

“Stop being so reasonable!” I wailed, as I scooped up my rabbit and cuddled her. “I want you to tell me he’s being a dick and it’s all his fault!”

My friend laughed. “Okkkkk he’s a dick and it’s all his fault. But you know that’s not true! You know you both over reacted and you’ve both handled the situation badly. Just give eachother some space and calm down, and then talk. Bridget and Mark worked things out in the end, even after Bridget nearly shagged Daniel in Thailand.”

“But they didn’t work things out did they!” I moaned. “They’re doing a bloody third film where Bridget has a baby who might not be Mark’s, it could be Patrick Dempsey’s! And in the third book Mark is killed!”

My friend sighed. “Bridget Jones aside. You and The Big J will be fine. You love eachother, and you just know how to get a reaction out of eachother. It will blow over sweetie. Me on the other hand, I’m a lost cause. I’ve just come back from the worst Tinder date of my life and have now eaten my bodyweight in crisps. I’ll probably die alone…”

“… Half eaten by Alsations.” I finished. We can quote the entire Bridget Jones films by heart, it’s quite a skill. “Thanks hun. I just needed to vent.”

We chatted about her horrific Tinder date for another twenty minutes (apparently her date thought it was acceptable to show her photos of his ex girlfriend all night) before saying goodnight. I felt a bit better. I’ve always hated arguing with The Big J and it makes me feel horrible when we fight.

I flicked on the TV and laughed out loud. Bridget Jones was playing on Sky Movies.



Dating · love · Relationships · Sex

Sex-mas Cheer

“Shit, shit, shit!”

I raced around my room shoving clothes into my suitcase, my eye on the clock. It was Christmas Eve Eve and my mother was picking me up from my house that night. I’d gotten out of work late and was rushing around stuffing Christmas presents and underwear into my bag, and trying to coax my very grumpy pet rabbit into her travel case.

“Come on, come on,” I wheedled as she thumped her feet and refused to move from under my bed. “I haven’t got time for this sweetie, look at this nice bit of carrot…”

I waved the slice of carrot in front of her nose and placed it in the carrier. She sniffed and retreated further under my bed, flicking her feet at me.

“Aghrrrrr sod you then, you can spend Christmas by your bloody self under my bed!” I snapped, as I shoved more clothes into the suitcase. I was still grumbling in the general direction of my rabbit when there was a knock at my front door.

“Shit!” I squeaked as I looked at the complete chaos in my room. “She’s early!”

I ran down the stairs and yanked open the front door – but instead of my mother, The Big J stood there in a long black fitted coat, his hair blown by the wind and a leather satchel hanging over his shoulder. Damn, he looked good.

“Um, what are you doing here?” I asked, confused. “You know my mum is picking me up soon?”

The Big J pecked my cheek hurriedly as he stepped in the front door. “Sorry, sorry, I know you’re getting ready to leave. I forgot my sister’s present the other day, I left it in your bedroom cupboard. Let me just grab it and I’ll be off.”

He ran up the stairs and I heard him cooing at the rabbit, while I rolled my eyes. He can be such a softy. I was in the kitchen wiping down the surfaces when he came back downstairs, present in hand.

“Ok hun I’m going,” he said as he pulled me into a hug and kissed me firmly on the lips. “I don’t want to be here when your mum arrives-”

I kissed him back, hard. He picked me up and sat me on top of the counter and kissed me deeply, his arms wrapped around me. He plucked the cleaning wipe I was still holding out of my hand and dropped it on the floor.

“I thought you were leaving?” I whispered, my hands travelling down to his jean button. He gave a small moan, pulling my top over my head.

“So did I,” he whispered back. “But you are too damn sexy, even when you are cleaning.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist and he picked me up and carried me upstairs, placing me on my bed surrounded by the chaos. He kissed me slowly, sensually, from my collarbone all the way down to my feet. I shivered as he littered by body with kisses, and I pulled him to me.

“I want you, now,” I breathed as I ripped open his shirt. He didn’t disappoint and entered me in one quick thrust, riding me quickly and deeply, I was on the cusp of an orgasm…

“Holy shit!” The Big J yelped. I opened my eyes in shock as he quickly pulled out of me. He was staring in horror at the edge of my bed, I leaned over in confusion for a closer look-

The rabbit. She was perched on the end of my bed, ears flopping cutely, as she nudged The Big J for a stroke. She looked so damn adorable we couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ah well I really need to get going anyway,” The Big J chortled. “I love you hun, even if your bloody rabbit does interrupt us during sex. God I bet we’ve scarred the poor animal for life!”

I giggled and leaned across him to stroke the rabbit. Then I quickly grabbed her and shoved her in her carry case, as she wriggled in protest. She thumped her feet angrily at me and I stuck my tongue out at her. Nice try.

I ushered The Big J out of the house and packed the last of my things. When my mother turned up my house was relatively organised.

“Wow, this is tidy,” my mother remarked as she walked into my kitchen. “It’s nice to know you and your housemate do actually clean-”

She suddenly stopped dead. “What?” I panicked. “What?!”

My mother’s gaze travelled to the centre of the room,where my thong sat in a heap on the floor with one of The Big J’s socks. Next to it lay a shiny condom wrapper.


Dating · Sex

The Thrill Of It

Last week I met The Big J from work. We were meeting for dinner and he was running late. His office was empty, it was 6 30 and his colleagues were long gone for the night.


“Crap, where did I put that USB stick?” The Big J moaned as he dashed around the open plan office. “If I don’t send this file to the client by 7, I’m fucked.”

I sat on top of his desk, swinging my legs. He’s cute when he’s stressed. “Aha!” He said triumphantly as he found the memory stick under a pile of paperwork. “Got it! Ok, let me send this email and then we can go.”

He walked over to me and kissed me, and I pulled him closer and wrapped my legs around his waist. He kissed me harder, his hands under my shirt and playing with the edge of my bra strap. “Hmm,” I said coyly as I ran my hand over the bulge of his jeans. “Someone’s horny.”

“You’re too damn sexy,” he murmured into my ear as he started to unbutton my shirt.

“Wait,” I giggled, pulling my shirt together. “We’re in your office, what if someone comes back? Don’t you have CCTV? Anyone could walk in, don’t you have-”

The Big J cut me off by kissing me hungrily, ripping open my shirt with such force two of the buttons pinged off. I pulled down my bra straps and kicked off my heels, The Big J kissing my neck and unzipping my skirt. I fumbled with his jeans and pulled his shirt over his head, kissing him passionately and running my hands through his hair.

“What about the file?” I gasped as he slid my underwear down my thighs. “Aren’t you on a deadline?”

“Fuck the deadline,” The Big J growled as he pushed the papers and pens to the floor and pushed me down onto the desk. He yanked my bra of me and cupped my breasts, breathing heavily. “I want you, right now.”

He straddled me and entered me in one quick thrust. We both cried out as he gained momentum and fucked me hard and fast, I gripped on the edge of the desk for dear life as he pumped harder. “I’m going to come,” I gasped as he gave one last deep thrust and we both came together, crying out. The Big J flopped against me, and I stroked his head as he smiled into my shoulder.

image (1)“Hey, no need to be cocky,” I teased as he started to laugh. “That was very primal of you!”

The Big J grinned as he stood up and picked my clothes up from the floor. “Me Tarzan, you Jane,” he joked as he pretended to beat his chest. I laughed and took my clothes from him, checking my watch.

“Ok, you have ten minutes to send that damn file and then we’re grabbing some food! I hope to god no one monitors the CCTV in your office.”

The Big J nibbled my neck and kissed my shoulder, before walking over to his computer and inserting the USB stick. I was just zipping up my skirt when a voice came from the corridor outside.

“Hello?” Said a female African accent, knocking lightly on the office door. “I come to clean?”

“Shit!” I hissed as I threw The Big J’s clothes at him and slipped my heels back on. “Get dressed!”

“One moment!” The Big J called, shoving his shirt over his head and buttoning his trousers. “I’ll be right with you!”

“I coming in now,” said the voice as she pushed open the door, a red Henry hoover trailing behind her. She was a small African woman with curly hair and blue overalls. She took in the scene, both The Big J and I having dressed hurriedly, me still on top of his desk, our hair rumpled. We stood frozen, the cleaner staring at us with an amused smile. “I come back later,” she said, her eyebrows raised, and she spotted The Big J’s socks still on the floor. “I can see you’re busy, no?”

The cleaner backed out of the room, still smiling, pulling the hoover behind her. When she’d gone The Big J and I looked at eachother and burst into laughter. “Oh god!” The Big J snorted, as he grabbed his socks. “She knows exactly what we’ve been up to, your face is bright red!”

“Let’s just get out of here NOW, before she calls security!” I giggled, wiping tears of laughter from my eyes. “No more sex in your office!”

The next day I was at work typing a report, when I got a message from The Big J.

“I can’t sit at my desk without thinking of you spread across it. I bet the cleaner feels the same way, too.” 

I laughed at loud. Oops.

Christmas · relationships · Uncategorized

Tis the season to be jolly

“Hey! That was my bloody roll!”




I poked my head around the Christmas aisle in Paperchase. In the middle of the shop were two women glowering at eachother over a box of wrapping paper. A group of shoppers looked up from their browsing with interest; clearly a bitch fight was about to commence. The first woman, a professional looking blonde with a mulberry bag slung over her shoulder (that I just happen to know is retailing for £1,200 right now) was gripping the last sparkly roll of wrap. The second woman, a brunette in a pencil skirt, was glaring at her.

“I picked it up first,” the blonde said snippily as she put it firmly in her basket. “Sorry.”

The brunette opened her mouth in protest, but before she could speak the blonde marched over to the cash register to pay. The shoppers all resumed their browsing, looking slightly dejected at the lack of a girl fight.

Christmas can turn even the most level headed of people into a panicked frenzy, I thought as I elbowed past a group of women clustered around the card stand and headed back to work.

Christmas feels odd this year.  I’m currently sitting in my kitchen listening to Michael Buble’s Christmas album, dressed in my reindeer PJs after spending the last hour wrapping presents. Yet it doesn’t feel right.

I’ve always loved Christmas, it’s been my cliché favourite time of the year since I was a kid. I love the food, the lights, the music, the cheer, the weather, the buying and receiving of gifts… but this year, something is different.

I still haven’t spoken to my mother since our huge blow up last weekend. I won’t be spending Christmas with her this year due to it, I’m planning on either spending it with friends or my grandparents. This is the first year I’ve ever spent Christmas without my mum and the idea of it breaks my heart.

The Big J came over last night while I was slumped on the sofa, still in my work clothes and nibbling on a mince pie. He was furious.

“HOW can your family treat you like this?!” He fumed, as he paced up and down my living room. My pet rabbit scampered after him, nudging his legs with her nose. “What is WRONG with them? You’re her daughter, how can your mother let her husband treat you like this?”

I gave a non-committable grunt. I’d been over this conversation with The Big J every night this week, and he was still furious. I was just drained.

“Tell me exactly what was said, every single word,” he demanded as he scooped up the rabbit and flopped down next to me. “I just don’t understand it!”

I groaned. “We’ve been through this! I have told you over and over what happened, I’m sorry but I can’t make it any easier for you to accept. Yes, it’s shit. Yes, I feel horrible about it all. But I’m also really sick of crying, so could we just leave it?”

My voice wavered, and I blinked my eyes furiously trying to keep the tears at bay. I took the rabbit from him and buried my face in her fur. This was ridiculous. I couldn’t keep getting this upset, it wasn’t making it any easier. The Big J’s face softened and he pulled me to him.

“I’m sorry I keep bringing it up,” he said softly. “I’m just so angry that they’ve hurt you like this. It’s not fair, you haven’t done anything to deserve this.”

I pushed my face in his jumper, smelling his familiar scent. The rabbit squirmed between us before wriggling out of my grasp.

“I know this is difficult for you to take in,” I said. “But it is what it is. There’s no going back from what happened, I just have to move on.”

The Big J sighed and kissed the top of my head. “I know. I just feel so helpless, I can see how much you’re hurting and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

I just want to try and push the whole situation to the back of my mind. I’ve been throwing myself into work and keeping busy, it makes the whole thing much more bearable. As for Christmas… I’m not letting my favourite time of the year be ruined by my family.

This year, I’ll do it my way.

Favourite Christmas song: Baby It’s Cold Outside