The Deadly Virus

Heyy, 

Coming back down to earth and to the daily grind was hard last week, but heaven knows how hard Mr Warehouse and I were about to fall. Last week I said that I supposed our next beachy holiday will be our Honeymoon, however, with recent developments, this is looking unlikely. It is so hard for me to write this, even now as I type I am brushing tears from my eyes for I know the inevitable, and yet at the same time I know nothing at all. 

Since banning all weddings and marriage celebrations from 23 March 2020, the UK government has been sketchy at best on Weddings or civil partnerships, however, since 4 July in England weddings can now take place with up to 30 guests. At this point, hours away from our holiday to Cornwall, Mr Warehouse and I considered it. Obviously, it is an option and for many, this could work fine, and for many, many more they would have to make it work, if at all. Others simple refuse and make the heartbreaking decision to postpone their date. 

As quoted from the Gov.uk website, "legally-valid ceremonies or formations are strongly advised to go ahead only where they can be done in a COVID-19 secure environment (Whatever that means and thanks BoJo for the clarity). It is also advised that the ceremonies are kept as short as reasonably possible and limited as far as reasonably possible to the parts of the ceremonies that are required in order for the marriage or civil partnership to be legally binding. No more than 30 people should attend a marriage or civil partnership, where this can be safely accommodated with social distancing in a COVID-19 secure venue." In short, this means no singing, no choir (namely in our circumstances due to age and health issues which would consider them in a COVID-vulnerable category, not to mention being unable to learn 2 new songs by the time our day rolled around). It also means for us that it would not even be 30 people as we need to include in that group our photographer, videographer, Reverand and at least 2 witnesses. 

In conjunction with this, "Large wedding receptions or parties should not currently be taking place and any celebration after the ceremony should follow the broader social distancing guidance of involving no more than two households in any location or if outdoors, up to six people from different households" and again would need to include photographer, videographer, bar staff & waiting staff, taking our total down to even less. We calculated just 19 people could come to our special day.  

Following the UK Government Coronavirus announcement late last week and drafted on the basis of the scientific evidence available, from 1 August, "small wedding receptions will be able to take place". What does this mean? What is small? What is a reception inclusive or exclusive of? The guidance means that a sit-down-meal for no more than 30 people is to take place, again subject to COVID-19 Secure guidance.

For us as a couple, the thirty guests allowance simply would not work, and for many reasons. As the Gov.uk website states "Marriages and civil partnerships are a vital part of our society, uniting couples to start their new life together and affording certain legal rights. However, by their very nature, in bringing families and friends together, they are particularly vulnerable to the spread of COVID-19." How can I have a wedding with only a handful of our nearest and dearest? It is simple we cant. As frustrating as it is, I cannot simply cut my guest list and tell someone they were invited but now "really sorry you have not made the final cut". That is just not fair. Almost as much so that Mr Warehouse and I even need to consider this as a damned option on what should be the happiest few months of our lives. 

For us, as a couple trying to marry in 2020 it is a huge uphill struggle; Every. Single. Day. The constant questions are creeping in and I fathom their anxiety and awkwardness in asking as much as being asked. Or what is worse is the hesitation from friends and family we are slowly starting to meet up with again is agonising to watch them wrestle with themselves about whether they do or dont ask about wedding planning and how it is all going for fear of upsetting us. As I sit here thinking, sighing loudly so Number 10 can hear, I think about what it may be like, A Corona-Wedding?! I am not sure how I feel about it. Masks everywhere, no hugging and limited celebrating if you can even call it that. 

Since Lockdown began, over 73,600 weddings and same-sex civil partnership ceremonies have been postponed. I am just hoping that I am not one of them ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Finding The One

Hello, 

Sitting in my car I could hardly believe my luck. It was so beautiful, more than I remember. So sparkly and so shiny. Finally, peace and harmony were restored. 

You are probably wondering what all the fuss was and to an extent is all about. Well following the meltdown of last week's blog post detailing the absolute regret of swapping out my OG engagement ring for a new model, I spent hours hunting high and low for this damned ring. The Revere 9-carat White Gold Cubic Zirconia Oval Halo engagement ring was beautiful, classic and elegant. I should have really listened to the doubt inside my head at the time as I wrote in my blog "Rings and Tings" that week I ask myself if this new ring will have all the same significance and special feels as the OG. I thought so and yet several months down the line I can promise you that it did not. 

Silly old me thinking "of course it will look a little odd in photos and I will have to explain every time someone asks what happened to my old engagement ring, but this one is soooo sparkly and soooo beautiful it won't be hard for them to see why I fell in love with it." Oh how wrong I was. Heartbreakingly, I finally found that Argos have stopped selling it - Literally as of January 2020! 

I left my blog last week sad, for alas Revere 9-carat White Gold Cubic Zirconia Oval Halo Ring was the one and I was hasty to let you go for now I regret my decision. In the hours that followed I continued my search online for ex-models or ex-stock items, I only hoped I can find you item 724/8119! Searching the internet high and low, going into forums and eBay listings galore desperate to find it again, growing more and more needier as I trawled through pictures and listings and description's I finally found a handful that looked similar. Not 'The One' though. Amazon.com described it as a 10k Solid White Gold Oval Shape 1.0ct Halo Engagement Ring. At £140.00 it wasn't cheap and came in at more expensive than the OG and the "New and Improved" model. 

The listing went on, stating that the classic and timeless halo engagement ring was "crafted in your choice of solid 10k white or yellow gold. Stamped with authenticity and a promise of exceptional quality, this versatile design combines sophistication and effortless style". Vacation safe (whatever that means?!), the affordable alternative to a diamond engagement ring exudes grace and is a quintessential addition to a fine jewellery collection. 
Peace of mind is given when the shop states that "all jewellery undergo rigorous quality control processes to ensure that customers receive a durable and long-lasting product". 

Parade of Jewels continues to sell the product as "something that has been built to withstand the test of time with a premium, sturdy shank and a secure prong-set cuddling AAA quality Cubic Zirconia with fire and sparkle like no other". The Halo Engagement Ring collection including this ring is described as an elegant jewellery piece and the perfect gift for weddings and engagements or just to say "I love you". The reviews were good too, customers admiring the quality and style with one of them even stating that the ring was "Absolutely beautiful. Looks like the real deal." Although I couldn't pin everything on reviews as a 5/5 for only six people wasn't everything. 

All things aside, I double and triple-checked with the Argos Chatbots, only to be told that nope there was no hope. Item 724/8119, the stunning Revere 9-carat White Gold Cubic Zirconia Oval Halo Ring did not exist anywhere. And so I went to bed, defeated and flat. I would have to settle for I was too late. The following morning I continued my search, although kept coming back to the Amazon Special. I succumbed to the fact that if I wanted it I would have to order from the American eCommerce site. But maybe, just maybe my local store might have something? 

Heading out on my lunch break I whizzed on over to Argos at the Kempston Interchange, praying against all hopes that I would be in luck and, knowing it was unlikely, I walked into the store. Explaining the situation to the young women behind the sparkling glass desks, she gave me a kind smile and went into the back. She came out with a box and I thought that this couldn't be. Could it? Opening the box was like the first time all over again, right there in that gravelly car lot in Priory Country Park. 
"What size is it?" I asked anxiously awaiting a reply. Slipping it on I fell in love all over again. It fitted like a glove, perfect and dainty as I remembered. I could have cried if it weren't for being surrounded by whingey half-term kids and their exhausted and frustrated parents. Nearly biting the sales assistants hands-off I said I'll take it. And so I paid and left, costing me less this time around than it did when Mr Warehouse and I originally bought it all those many moons ago. 

Truth be told as I write to you now, distracted with the sparkles, I could need to have it resized still should I lose any more weight. I shan't at the moment, just simply because I am only a mere pound away from losing my first stone, and 1.5lbs from seeing a new stone-zone. Can hardly remember the last time I was in the 17-Stone range?! Nevertheless, I am overjoyed with the find and hopefully, the good winnings can continue tomorrow as I weigh-in!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Living in Regret

Heyy, 

Last week I spoke about the regret of not ever living in London and the city and the life that I could have imagined living if it weren't for different other life events that lead me on the path I am today. And yet again I sit here in regret. 

Back in the Autumn of 2018, my Mr Warehouse proposed. I remember it so clearly, walking on ahead with my little winner following a fun dog show which our (now) eldest pooch (the only one at the time) won for coming first as "The dog that the judges would most like to take home". So in my own world was I, I didn't notice as Mr Warehouse came up alongside me and almost in slow motion, my boyfriend of nearly four-years knelt down on one knee and pulled out a grey box from his pocket. As if it was yesterday I recall how I felt as my mind adjusted to what my eyes were seeing, he opened the box only to reveal a beautiful White Gold Diamond ring. A part of me had not quite realised that this was it and instead was just thinking how nice it was that he had bought me a nice gift. Then I think everything caught up with me and as my gorgeously handsome, cute bottomed Mr Warehouse asked: "Will You Marry Me?" 

After choosing the wrong size I had to re-pick my ring, mainly as they could only size up and down 2 levels and I needed more than that. I selected the beautiful Revere 9-carat White Gold Cubic Zirconia Oval Halo Ring, classic and elegant. After whizzing over to Stevenage to collect it in my size, I was overjoyed and couldn't stop staring at my hand for months. But soon enough the whirlwind had worn off and I found a new shiny thing to think about. 

Back in the Summer of last year, I was sat in a meeting in early June and noticed a small spec of dust on the desk. I swiped it onto the floor, thinking nothing more of it. A little while later I ended up looking down and playing with my engagement ring. However, on closer inspection, I realised a stone was missing. Panicked I realised that the "speck of dust" was actually one of my stones! There I was, on all fours in this bloody sales meeting. I picked up the crystal and wrapped it in a piece of paper, stuffing it into my bra for safekeeping. Calling the store Mr Warehouse (and I) bought it from, I explained what had happened and asked if I could bring it in with a photo of the receipt that I had on my phone to be repaired. They said it would be fine and I brought it in that evening once I had finished. With weeks before we jetted off on our last holiday as an unmarried couple, I was itching to get it back. 

Several weeks later I was days away from mine and Mr Warehouse's holiday and I was even more desperate to get it back to go on holiday with. It would be the first time it had been on holiday and would be the one and only time it would be seen on a beach, fore next time it would be accompanied by my wedding ring! Eeeek! But after calling several times I was told that the ring was not back yet and they would be in touch soon. I did have a contingency plan though. I had ordered a lab-created diamond ring from eBay that looked similar, although disappointingly it had not arrived in time for my holiday only adding to my heartache. However, once it had (eventually) arrived was not quite for me and so I sent it back, awaiting any day for my beloved ring to be back with me. And so, regrettably, I skipped off on holiday without my ring. 

Coming back home from Malaga Mr Warehouse and I waited in the airport, ready to board our flight home, swollen and in pain with blisters and sores. I had a phone call from the store we sent the ring back to get repaired. Unfortunately, it would have happened that when the repairers went to fix the ring, it bowed and warped so much so that whilst they had been able to fix it, the repair was not guaranteed and that if any more stone fell out I would have to go through the whole six-eight week process again. I decided not to accept the repair and instead opted to have the ring returned and have a replacement, thoughts of the new shiny thing I had seen in the shops a few weeks before. 

Truth be told I had fallen in love with a 9ct White Gold Cluster Ring. The claw set cushion design is a real beauty. Handset with DiamonFlash Cubic Zirconia it creates a ring of perfect proportions with lots of sparkle and style. A fabulous accessory for any outfit - Including my wedding dress. Lusting after it for a while I was still waiting to hear about my ring being returned, I couldn't help myself and after calling a local branch in Milton Keynes and being told that my exact size was in and was on sale, I dropped what I was doing (which was decorating our hallway at the time) and headed over. However, on making the half-hour round trip and paying for premium parking, I was more than annoyed to try on the ring and for it to barely get past my knuckle. 

"This is not the correct ring size," I said to the sales assistant. She disagreed saying that of course, it is. 
"I can assure you that this is not my ring size," I said again asking her this time to size it on her ring chart and, sure enough, it was wrong, coming up nearly three sizes too small. Fuming I tried to control myself in a shop busy with people, but explaining politely to the sales girl that I have come in especially for this and what it is simply not really acceptable to just say sorry and make an excuse that someone had labelled it incorrectly, especially when I had called in advance too. Nevertheless, the young girl helped by ordering the ring in, although not before trying to charge me more because I was ordering a "bigger size". I paid in full and left, sitting in my car before I left and typing out an angry tweet. Venting through the interwebs seems to help as I had a response within a few hours and was told that because of my troubles I would have my ring especially shipped in from the manufacturers directly and that I could collect that Friday. 

What happened to the other original engagement ring? Well, whilst I loved it, I love this one. Although I should have listened to the doubt inside my head at the time. Writing in "Rings and Tings" that week I really had to ask myself if this new ring will have all the same significance and special feels as the OG. Several months down the line I can promise you that it does not. Silly old me back then thought "I mean of course it will look a little odd in photos and I will have to explain every time someone asks what happened to my old engagement ring, but this one is soooo sparkly and soooo beautiful it won't be hard for them to see why I fell in love with it." Oh how wrong I was. 

I have since just spent pretty much the entire evening looking for this damned ring. The original of course. I am absolutely gutted though as Argos have stopped selling it, literally as of January 2020! Alas Revere 9-carat White Gold Cubic Zirconia Oval Halo Ring, you were the one and I was hasty to let you go for now I regret my decision and whilst I continue my search online for ex-models or ex-stock items, I can only hope I can find you item 724/8119 ...  

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Blast From The Past!

Hello there, 


Sushi. Is. Life. After the past year maybe of eating shop faux Sushi made from a combination of chicken and seafood, I have finally made the leap to a mainstream sushi bar. Yo! Sushi in Milton Keynes is I am sure probably farthest from genuine and authentic and Asian or Japanese influenced cuisine, however without the luxury of the big smoke to indulge my curiosities in I was forced to seek out as close to the real thing as I can get my little mitts on, Cali-rolls and Spice-Tuna-Things for the win! 

To say that I thoroughly enjoyed seeing Miss Tweedle-Dee and it was good to try new things whilst doing my favourite thing with my wages and in my preferred method or socialising, eating out. I am not quite sure what made me feel so good about sushi and hanging out with my best friend - Maybe it was the delight of combining my two favourite things or maybe it was the fact that I was feeling much better in myself. A a good catch up and long chat about anything and everything life had to offer us at the moment was certainly what I needed. Whilst my counselling and therapy has stopped for the short time whilst I am between therapists and Private Vs. NHS, I am taking my medication which seems to be doing it's job. 

Not long before we finished our meal and headed home I approach the subject that I had been wanting to bring up for a while. I felt as though my Tweedles were about the only people I could talk openly and honestly about how I felt without being judged or criticised. Not even Mr. Warehouse would understand I think?! You see waaay back in the days of short pleated school skirts and thick black eyeliner, there was one of the first Mr's in my life. Mr. Woof. Now let me introduce Mr. Woof to you all, (unless you have been reading along since the beginning and then you will already know who Mr. Woof well and truly is from the Viewer Discretion / NSFW earlier days of writing). 

Mr. Woof and I had been friends since meeting in the second year of High School and pretty much as soon as we met our liaisons began. In class and the playground, Mr. Woof was quite shy when it came to being in 'public' as it were with me, even being seen around each other was a no-no, but away from it all and what I used to refer to as the "spotlight" he was a completely different person, almost caring or even loving in a way, something that was never shown when around others. As we got older the intensity was stepped up with more secret meets at lunch and break, soon progressing to after school and even into our Saturday morning GCSE revision classes. But the more we played with each other, both metaphorically and emotionally the more I suffered. The double life we both lead between not talking to each other and almost bullying each other whilst in the company of friends and others was a stark comparison to the electricity we shared alone. But I knew what I was doing, course I did, any sixteen year old does. It was fun and I enjoyed the secrecy of it all. The secret little affair with the boy who I had a stupidly major crush on for ages and who was dating one of my closest school friends. Yeah, I definitely thought I knew it all (and probably still do) thinking that it will all be so different when we leave High School and go to Sixth Form or College, we can finally be together! Haha what a fool ... 

After school ended we went our separate ways, developed as people and went into study. I went on to have several partners, settling down with a few serious ones who loved me no matter the company we were in. Whereas Mr. Woof attempted university, dropped out only to discovered drink and drugs all the while continuing to think that his rock band would become the next big thing. Over the years he turned into something of a misogynistic womaniser and was well known for being a Harlequin around town. Nevertheless though Mr. Woof made an appearance throughout my love-life, weather I was with someone or not, however it must be noted that none of my ex-partners ever took a liking to him and we were always strictly friends when I was in a relationship as being faithful has always been something I fiercely uphold after some hiccups in my earlier years of teenage-living and my fathers betrayal. 

Mr. Woof and I had lost contact for a while after Mr. Workaholic had banned me from communicating with him, but got back in touch a few months after we split. It started as it always had and at that moment the friendly voice of someone familiar was just what I craved. At the time I was amidst a messy break-up Miss Tweedle-Dee handed me the trilogy of books by E. L James; 'Fifty Shades of Grey', 'Fifty Shades Darker' and 'Fifty Shades Freed'. I. Was. Hooked. I couldn't put them down, like everyone I suppose. I decided then to embark on something of my own contract. We had come a long way from my Teenage Dreams Days and so after getting back in contact, Mr. Woof and I began another momentary lapse of loosing our inhibitions and giving into our lustfulness for something we knew so well. Only this time I had some level of control. I had just come out of a long term relationship and wanted something intimate, exciting and confidence boosting. Something NSA to make me smile and brighten up my otherwise gloomy days. I suppose in a sense he was the rebound?! When I talk about it like that it seems as though Mr. Woof was using me to the highest of advantages; abusing the trust and vulnerability of an old friend who was dealing with heartbreak. But I was as much to blame in that as he was. I wanted and needed attention.  I was lacking it both in my job as well as socially as friends and family who lived far from my door. I needed a little something I could dip into as and when I wanted and we weren't hurting anyone. 

After sometime however the novelty soon wore off and we again drifted apart, not through Malice or animosity but simply due to life moving off. Over the next few years of difficult dating dilemmas and finally finding someone I really care about I will be honest and say that I thought about Mr Woof less and less. Until that is the other day when I stumbled across an old social media page. I had seen his profile picture and was intrigued to see what he was up to and we had both changed. I knew that he had got married and settle down with some plain-Jane type. I was certainly not prepared for what was to come. 

Clicking the pages on his social media I discovered that not only had he propose and dedicated his life in marriage, but that he now had a child. Knocking me sideways I was taken aback. I don't know, it is not that I am jealous of his wife and young family, far from it and if anything I am glad that he has found his calling in life as a Dad. Maybe it was the fact that in all of our time together, on or off, we had never discussed marriage or kids, even if the intention was not each other. Then again he is a man and they do not tend to discuss marriage for kids as women do. It is just a little surreal for me to think that someone I thought would never even get married or settle down with anyone is now a father and husband. Oh how things change I suppose. 

It has been playing on my mind a lot over the last few days since finding out last week and I just can't put my finger on it. But as I explained in depth and detail, more than I have here to you, Miss Tweedle-Dee looked at me with a strange expression played across her face as the sushi Carousel continue unknowingly. She didn't need to tell me twice that I was sounding weird and creepy. I came away from our short and brief conversation about Mr. Woof and his family with a heaviness in my heart knowing that time is inevitably ticking along and will soon catch up with me if I am not careful and seeing someone I knew happy makes me feel a little weird about adulting now in the real world. Ahhh someone take me back to the simpler days of Emo bands, short pleated school skirts and thick black eyeliner! 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

That Old Chestnut ,,,

Hello, 

Leaving work early today I was excited at the prospects of the next hour and as Mr. Warehouse and I trundled down the road in Vivienne I could barely contain my excitement. Indicating right, slowing down and pulling into the gravel lane that lead to the back of some very quaint Railway cottages we had arrived. Looking like the back end of a chocolate box with friendly locals and what appeared to be a communal car parking space where everyone I imagined looked forward to seeing their neighbours and having a chit-chat over the garden fence, maybe even sharing in some sugar or two. Getting out of the car Mr. Warehouse could already tell I was falling form the old-ye-worlde charm of the place. 

Wandering around the outhouses, sheds and barn or two we were called over by a rather warm looking estate agent who ushered us inside before explaining the details of the house. It was a two-bedroom cottage with a garden courtyard which I just knew would not please Mr. Warehouse as he wanted some grass that his dog could disintegrate with her piss but I thought that the walled courtyard would be perfect to enjoy BBQ's in the summer and a hot toddy and blanket to watch the stars when it got colder. As we entered the home through the back door, we came into a large kitchen enough to host dinner or a party with plenty of room for a dining room table and all the bits and bobs a kitchen would need (although we found out later that the white good were not included). Trying my might to get Mr. Warehouse's eye, I wanted to point him towards the kitsch little stable door to the back of the property that would lend itself to a form of proper country living and something I had in all honesty always dreamt of having. Snapping out of thoughts of me entertaining guests through the half-hatched door or having our pooch learn to lean up and beg for some treats after wandering out round the garden, the estate agent took us through to a large living room. Nicely decorated our large chaise-sofa would have fit several ways round and we were surprised to learn that the gorgeous book case would be staying so as to house all manner of DVD's, Books and Games as well as all the pictures and memento's Mr. Warehouse long to put on display. It was here I began to let myself truly think about living here, cosy nights in front of the TV cuddled up on the couch watching shite telly whilst the wind and the cold breezed outside. 

Opening a wooden door lead to the enclosed staircase whereby we ascended to reveal a huge bathroom with enough space for a massive bath tub set into the stone floor, a separate shower, toilet and sink with plenty of room for cabinets and storage for bathroom items. I was in love. The high ceilings and character of the property was something I had absolutely fallen head over heels for, but looking at Mr. Warehouse I could tell that something was not right. Looking through into the first room, what turned out to apparently be the smallest of the two still housed a large double bed, a desk and work station and even a double wardrobe big enough to be a triple for even more storage options. This was a room I would be proud to put guests in and even with a little tweaking could accommodate a half man-cave, half craft room. It was everything I wanted from a spare room and more with the potential of it being more that just a guest bedroom in the future. The master bedroom was similar in size although with the alcoves cut into the wall following the destruction of the original fire place and with added space over the stairs there would have been plenty of room in their for both our wardrobes and drawers including a comfy new bed maybe. It even had a secret little window to shout down for your morning coffee. 

With the fluff and prancing around over and done with we got talking on the landing and down to business. After asking all the relevant questions Mr. Warehouse and I were ready to talk money. £1,100 for the deposit of six-weeks up-front. £240 background agency and referencing fee. £120 tenancy drafting and inventory fee. £100 pet policy agreement fee. In total Mr. Warehouse would be talking over three-grand before we have even got the keys. Five minutes later the reality started to settle in with the conversation that had just been held and as the estate agent went off to make some phone-calls back to the office the reality started to settle in. We had a couple of hundred quid saved and a credit card or two, but no way did we have that sort of money. Who did? 

I could understand the pet deposit and I will be honest I am surprised it was not more given the fact that they charge nearly £300 per couple for copying and pasting an already existing tenancy agreement and handing you a pen. and then there is the inventory list that need to be done, again something that would have been done less that a year ago when the property was last on the market. The hundred-and-twenty quid for the referencing fee, just for little estate agent to sit at her desk of an afternoon and make a couple of phone calls in order to check we have no bad financial history of not paying or leaving the place in a state. It was an absolute joke. And all in order to pay someone else's mortgage. Walking out of the property I was siked about what the conversation would be in the car on the way to our "old home". 

Alas the journey was quiet as we had not even turned the engineer on in our dear Vivienne before and argument broke out. Everything had been so positive before and now working out the figures I was sure that we were not to live happily ever after in our little cottage of joy. I would never serve drinks from my stable hatch or get to bathe in my floor-set bath tub. Never would I be able to refer to the two outhouses as the cow and coal sheds, nor will I shout down to the cozy sitting room for a cup of char of a Sunday morning before a nice brisk walk along the country roads. Indeed it was a very quiet journey home that I just became more and more agitated with the fact that Mr. Warehouse agreed to see the property with me, so why wasn't he open to putting down roots. I questioned his commitment for the first time tonight. 

For the value that we would be paying I thought it was a steal and with the fact we could potentially live there way past marriage and our first child it was something I was ready to say yes to right there and then. Having said that though, I couldn't help think that the boyfriend was waiting on something else. Something that might never come along and that even if it did it would still not satisfy him fully and tick every one of his boxes. Would it have the grassy garden for the dog? Would the rent be affordable and something we can manage? Would it be somewhere for a while and not for a moment? Would the bathroom please his every need and would there be room for this and room for that? There is always something that just isn't right enough for my dear, dear Mr Warehouse and unfortunately his lack of imagination and creativity cannot be applied in order to see what it could be like and not what it is at face value within a property. And I thought I was hard to please!?

Now I know we were and are still both luck to have the good jobs we do and food in our bellies and a roof over our heads especially more-so as it came into the harshness of winter and in a bid not to sound ungrateful I just with that there was a way out of this somewhat hopeless situation. A couple, mid-twenties that are stuck suffocating between an affordable rented property that they are hotly growing out of, although not in a position to rent somewhere bigger and better but neither in a position to buy. How do people do it? Well I know how, it usually a helping hand or a big win, usually the former. Government schemes such as help to buy mortgages, shared ownership and lifetime ISA's only help the fortunate to save. What about those like Mr. Warehouse and I who can fully afford a mortgage on a good home but can barely scrape together the deposit and fees and all because we are paying our own way in life already. The fact is that buying for Mr. Warehouse and I will take years, and probably close to a decade to save for, even where we are now with the rent and bills we pay. Renting for Mr. Warehouse and myself, yes, is an option, however this would lend itself to a higher cost of living with bigger rents and bills and no where for spare cash to go towards a house. So what do we do? 

After arriving home and cleaning the small flat in separate areas for nearly an hour, we met in the Fritzl (our aptly named corridor after Joseph and Elizabeth Fritzl due to how small, narrow and long it is). Bellies rumbling and sadness from either party I knew I couldn't stay angry at him for being a realist, although I hated him for it. I soon realised I have been very selfish and my constant talk of holidays or luxurious travelling or buy a house or renting somewhere new is neglectful of my responsibilities as a girlfriend and to be supportive in an emotional way to someone else other than me. Whilst my urge for moving is getting greater I need to acknowledge that Mr. Warehouse earns less than I do, only by a fraction, but still enough to make him feel even less hopeful than me at ever getting out of our pokey one-bed. I love our little flat, but don't get me wrong, if someone offered me tomorrow a property that ticked all the boxes and I had the money to move immediately, I would. I just hope that Mr. Warehouse waiting on something better to come along pays off ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx 

Fin d'une époque ...

Evening All, 

Collecting my dearest Vivienne on Thursday evening (after numerous occasions being told it was ready and then it was not) I was more than excited to hit the road in her little Pumpkin coloured shell. Heading to the doctors, supermarkets and even being so kind as to drop Mr. Warehouse off to work on Friday morning, bright and early at seven in the morning. 

Arriving at work, just minute after dropping off the boyfriend it suddenly hit me that this would be my last day here at a company where I had been for over two-and-half-years. The place where my life began. Who knew that walking through those doors all those many moons ago that I would not only acquire the skills for dealing with difficult customers, sales reps and colleagues, but also that I would learn things about myself, like how to love again, trust and make friends. I never expected that I would get a taste for anything more than just a job to pass time and fill up the years before I settled down to have children. I know now that I want more than that for myself and my future. I want to have a job my children can be proud of, doing something that I am good at with people whom I enjoy being around. Some would go as far as to say that I had all of that at the place I had just left, but there was more to life and I needed to spread my wings and fly off for a new adventure. Oh, and the money helped I suppose?! 

Walking to my desk for the last time and placing my new car keys on the wooden finish I was sad to be leaving. With a tear in my eye I had plenty of work to be getting on with and so, before anyone could distract me, I rallied on with my inbox. As lunchtime approached I had already seen so many people, popping into the offices to say goodbye. Some of them drivers, some of them engineers and technicians; All of them friends and some of them even more. So many people questioned if I really had to go. 
"Maybe it is all one big joke and I will see you here again next week, laughing about how you fooled us all, yeah?" someone said. I wish it were true. I wish I could stay. But it was a decision I had made and now that the wheels were in motion I couldn't turn back now. If I did it would have been one of life's biggest regrets for me and I would always be left wondering 'What if?!'

I mean don't get me wrong there were moments over that last fortnight whereby I worked my notice that I thought I can't wait to get out of the rut I had found myself in. A constant cycle of boredom and repetitive non-sensical tasks that made no difference to my working life apart from making my job harder and more complex than it needed to be. I had walked into that place a twenty-two year old girl who didn't know what she was doing or  what she wanted from life. But I was handed a newborn of a company and asked to raise it into something respectable, which I like to think I did; Very, very well. But now, nearly three-years on I was in my mid-twenties and wanting to be taken more seriously with more responsibilities and managing more than just schedules. But this was something that would never happen there. I needed to be treated like an adult and given responsibility and room to grow as opposed to being undermined and questioned constantly.

But for every moment that I thought thank fuck, there was a million more in the back of my head asking: 'What an earth am I doing - Am I doing the right thing?'! With all the training and compiling all my workload into one Fountain of Knowledge Bible for whoever was brave enough to step into my shoes I hadn't really had time to think or realise that this was it. I was not sure if I was ready to leave. But as the time approached to go home, I realised that I would not be saying "See you Monday" but "Goodbye" for good. Of course I would see them all again, most of them were practically family anyway so I would have no choice but to see them around. But it was devastating saying my farewell messages to those that weren't such regular faces. A few tears from Miss Hackney and the Storeman whom I had grown very fond of were certainly testers in my confidence to leave.

Goodbye gifts in hand from my wonderful work colleagues including Christmas baubles (Because I had already started my Christmas Countdown) Cinderella Goodies (Because of that one time I dressed as Cinders and won my award for Administrator of the Year) and car stuff for my gorgeous Vivienne, whom everyone was cooing over in the car park; I picked up my box of belongings that had creeped into my work space over the last few years and descended the stairs. Bidding farewell to the building I had practically called home I walked through the green glass door for the last time. Walking out into the freshly chilled air I looked back at the bricks and mortar. I became tearful and fell into the arms of Mr. Warehouse who had come to meet me from work on my last day and to head to the pub for some after works drinks to send me off in style. 

After a weekend of driving and seeing friends and family I was ready to start my new job. Only my first day today but will definitely look forward to the coming days and weeks. Hopefully I will become a part of their family and they will accept me as a bright, intelligent and witty work colleague whom not only can be fun and playful but also reliable and integral part of the team. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Ego Vobis Valedico (I Say Goodbye To You)

Hello there, 

So one week on and a slight emotional roller-coaster as always (would you expect anything less from me?) but nevertheless I have been able to suck it up and get on with it. Unfortunately I have not yet been on Date number two with Mr. ToyBoy as yet however there is no need to rush into things as I am sure we will have plenty of time - Until I die before he does as a result of before mentioned age gap, Haha. 

And so with no Date planned with anybody else either I saw my week moderately filled up with social meetings, cinema trips and hanging out with friends. Even managed to squeeze in a little trip to the Zoo with Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Pea - Miss Tweedle-Dumb's little Sister. Well I say little but at eighteen she is the same age as my Brother but that doesn't stop me thinking of her as the baby of the pack. My weekend was spent having makeshift facials (Nothing filthy you - Just Miss Tweedle-Dumb lathering my face with a moist, creamy substance), being pestered into going to the Zoo to see monkeys by Miss Tweedle-Dee and company and then on top of all of that being told that I have no maternal instinct and should never be allowed to be around children under the age of twelve. Thanks Guys! Sometimes I wonder how lucky I am to have friends with such confidence in me being a parent one day. Really, Haha! But the week wasn't always so jovial and light. There was a dark cloud that hung over yesterday (Sunday) that had been grimacing since Thursday, a storm I knew was coming and one which I had prepared in every way I could and knew how to ... 

Rushing through my workload I realised come midday that my 'in' tray was empty. I had boshed through my pile of papers on my desk so hard I was now sat here twiddling my digits. Taking an early lunch I messaged my dinner date and checked in on my Tinder's. As a final farewell and in all honesty a last ditch attempt at getting laid I had invited Mr. Cheese over for dinner and a film at my apartment although I think we both knew that two bottles of our favourite Rose and my warm orange sofa would soon make the film seem like the less entertaining option. Returning to my desk I pottered around the rest of my working day keeping myself busy until the clock hit five and it was home-time for me! Snatching at my coat and scurrying off the bathroom to apply my war paint I was soon ready and waiting outside the office under my window awaiting the blue bug to come bumbling round the corner into the now quiet industrial estate. Adjusting my pink 1950's skirt and leather jacket I then lit a cigarette cockily thinking to myself that what did I care if he went out to Ghana for quarter of a year and met some blonde bimbo called Sarah-Jane, I was way out of his league anyway. I needed something real. After a good twenty-minutes of bigging myself up and yet again checking my dating profiles for potential suitors in the hope that Mr. ToyBoy would message me back more frequently than he was a car pulled into the parking lot. Climbing in I went to lean in for a kiss only to realise stupidly that this was not the etiquette now Mr. Cheese and I were no longer dating. 

Pulling away we chatted about our days and as we crossed the river into town I looked out at the water that once blossomed our relationship but now is a source of life for something new. I smiled at the irony as a voice asked what I had been up to since we had last met. "Is it a good idea to tell my ex that I have met someone new?" I thought to myself. I decided 'no' but only because it would inevitably lead round to the question "Well I have - Have you?" and in all honesty I just didn't want to hear about the dates that he had been on. Ignorance is bliss they say and I wasn't going to spoil my chances of a spoon. Letting ourselves into my flat I listened to some of the pompous and frankly upper-class snobbery that was vacating Mr. Cheese's mouth. I knew he was posh but fuck me! Maybe this was for the better?! 

Plating up I donned the table with condiments and nice cutlery as Mr. Cheese topped up my wine glass. Sitting down to dinner and without thinking I let him take the floor with conversation. Avoiding his gaze and not really listening to him I acknowledged more the view from my window across the rooftops of Suburbia. Conversation soon switched though and became about that dreaded subject - Us! Talking honestly and openly I again gave him the space he clearly needed to express about our failed relationship. On noting just that - Another one of my failed relationships - I was told that Mr. Cheese did not see it as a failure but as something that had to happen. Fate almost. Disregarding his philosophy I reached for bottle number two at this point and retreated to the sofa, changing the subjects to something a little less depressing than my lack of a normal relationship that wasn't between myself and Cadburys. As the liquid-relaxant kept flowing and I slid on my new heel's making me now taller than my 6ft-Ex we soon noticed that the fiery couch was up to its old tricks again. 

Etching closer I knew more than both of us the painful implications in which this would end but tossing them aside along with other undergarments we retreated to the bedroom, lead only by the flickering flames of the all hallowed Yankee Candle in a sickly sweet Salted Caramel flavour. After a short period of teasing we got on with it only for me to wonder why I was here again. As we lay panting, my head on Mr. Cheese's chest I played with his chest wig one last time bidding it a silence goodbye from behind my lashes. Running my fingers over his sternum was something that had always comforted me and now this was the last time. For ever. I knew that when he walked out that door in the morning it would be the last time we ever saw each other again. But at least we would fall asleep together. At least I would have one more morning waking up to him right beside me. Wrong! Mr. Cheese soon made the statement that he was sleeping at his Grandma's that night and as a result could not stay the night. All my preparation had gone out with window. This was something I did not have a contingency plan for! 

Feeling myself loose my grip on the situation I fought within myself, a constant battle that continued for almost an hour. Back and fourth I grappled between telling him to fuck the fuck off and begging his to stay, the later only brought back the scorching pain of the moment Mr. Workaholic left me. I knew that once he left I would be alone once more with only my mind and TV to keep me company. Feeling anxious at the prospect of spending the night alone I pulled on his arm to keep him from getting dressed. When told that Mr. Cheese was leaving I responded by lashing out. This went on until the Cab arrived to take him away. In the knowledge of its stationary position outside my door I sat on my bed, cross-legged and naked. I was as bare as a human could be. Almost as a metaphor to our relationship I had yet again laid myself open to him, open as a book and had poured my heart out presenting my soul as an offering and yet it still wasn't enough. 

Making a promise to myself never to get to this point again, I let my head know once more that I was going to be OK. As Mr. Cheese perched himself on the end of my bed I tried one last attempt to make him call off the Taxi. He declined in apology. Starting an obviously well-rehearsed soliloquy with how I should remember how beautiful and special I am, I rested my fingers on his soft lips, putting the goodbye to an end. Even though I knew that this was the end and that it was for ever a goodbye in ever sense of the word, I did not want to hear them. Not now. Not ever. I had accepted it in my head, but hearing it from a different voice to my own would only make it more real. As Mr. Cheese and I stared into eyes that were filling, for the first time mine broke first. Wiping my cheek I took off my silver St. Christopher's and placed it over the head of hair I had come to know and love, explaining that St. Christopher was the patron saint of travel and would keep him safe on his own adventures. 

"But it's yours ... " Said Mr. Cheese, sobbing too.
"It was never mine" I replied lovingly with a small smile. Holding each other in a tight embrace I swore that this was the end and that tomorrow would be a fresh chapter in the novel of me. As my front door clicked I raced to the skylight pushing it wide open, breathing in the crisp night air. Mr. Cheese looked up. Whether he saw me or not I don't know but that was the last time I ever saw him. Watching the lights of the Cab drive off down the quiet street I stood looking out across the navy sky for a long time. Watching. Waiting. Hoping that he would come back. But Mr. Cheese didn't. He never did. And so I poured myself a Screwdriver to ease the pain only to shun it moments later realising I had poured it into the glass Mr. Cheese had drank from hours earlier. Curling up on my trusty settee I spent the entire night trying in-vain to sleep. I couldn't. I wanted to, even just for a little bit, just to pretend this was all a bad dream. It wasn't. This was reality now. My reality. And yet again I was alone. 

But this time it was different. I was in my flat. With my sofa and my bed. They belonged to me not Mr. Cheese. So why was I letting him get the better of me. Consulting a friend most the night we chatted into the small hours and when the frosty sun finally broke through the Friday morning fog I knew that work would bring forward a purpose and something to occupy my brain. After no sleep at all I threw on something from my wardrobe not bothering to dress up for the office today. I needed comfort and if I found it in a pair of baggy jeans, soft jumper and Converse then so be it. 

The days have passed tediously and yesterday alone seemed painfully slow to end. Despite me having a good time with close friends and enjoying a wonderfully impromptu day out watching Chimpanzee's scratch their arse and Elephants defecating in front of a live audience, I couldn't help but notice the hours ticking down to the moment in which Mr. Cheese and I would no longer be on the same continent let alone breathing in the same air. Last night though on my way home and before I put the key in my door I looked up at the moon, as I did with the sun today, and comforted myself in the knowledge that it we would both be looking at the same thing. 

I'm not saying that I should never trust any more people with my heart or that I will never fall in love again. I'm only stating that next time I would prefer it to be real and something in which I can grow and nurture, not something that needs constant attention and weeding to keep healthy. And so my final closing statement is one of joy and thoughtfulness. To the person four-thousand, four-hundred and eighty-five miles away staring at that same ball of light in the sky I ask you - Did you pack your bag yourself?

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Rediscovery Of A Broken Fairytale ...

Bloggers Note: I have recently decided to start a thing going whereby if you yourself have a 'Trial or Tribulation' that I can help with then feel free to drop me a free and fully confidential message by popping it on a mini form in the right-hand sidebar or email me at: Abbbey4@gmail.com. Also If you have any ideas on how to make me sound or look more interesting then just do the same! :) xx

Evening to you, 

Throughout this journey I lost myself but in the space of a few days since last week and with a few tiny changes I am beginning to find myself again. Happy and content. Young and free. After downloading a few apps and being invited out on a work's night out I felt a little piece of me return every morning I opened my eyes. I anticipated that the work's 'do' would just be some quiet drinks down a local bar in the Town Centre, little did I know how much of an impact I could have. Even as I walked into the office this morning I was inundated with questions about who I left the bar with and what happened when I got home in the early hours of Saturday morning. Yes, everyone in the office seems to have me on their lips! But nothing happened as I was not in search of a lay that night, but simply the knowledge that I am not wholly repugnant and distasteful to all of the male population! I think I succeeded. 

Deciding that that my confidence needed boosting after recent events I donned a floaty skirt and heels to join my office bod's for a night on the tiles. And boy was it! Not having been out since Halloween last year (dressed as a Little Dead Riding Hood no less) I figured that I would go easy. That was until I joined those pesky lads from the warehouse downstairs from my office! Cute but not quite my type we began the evenings debauchery by knocking back an old favourite of mine - Sambuca shots! After perching myself on a bar stool, skirt billowing over my smooth legs, the conversation progressed fast and soon the boys and I were discussing sexual habits like how to go down on a girl, porn, bedroom activities and chat-up lines. The cheesiest of lines were put upon me Friday night and in all honesty I was outwardly and outrageously flirting, but with all this male attention and after recent events of the male variety, who could blame me ... 

---

Stairs. Something about them isn't there that is slightly foreboding. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but always foreboding. And so as I stood at the bottom of a narrow, brown stairwell in the centre of The Big Smoke I wondered how I would feel coming down them in a few hours time. The anticipation was killing me. I wanted to step onto them but I just couldn't. All around me I must have looked like an idiot just stood there having a face-off with some simple steps. Part of me wanted to climb - Climb up there to a better life in the clouds from one down here. But the reality in my heart told me that what I could face could be down yet another very dark and lonely staircase. Breaking through the barrier of my bodies unwillingness to make the first steps, and pulling my thoughts together I finally made my ascend. Stomach flipping and body beginning to shake I told myself to stay calm and collected. Reaching the last step my shoe slipped off. Like a child I saw it as an omen from a fairytale, but alas there was to be no Prince Charming to make me Happily Ever After. I knew how this story ends, I had read it before. I had to be the knight in shining armour and save myself from tragedy yet again. 

After speaking to the waiter I was being escorted to my table where my dinner date was already seated. Winding through tables and past massive gaping windows looking out to the city beneath me I knew in my heart that this was it. Once seated and reintroduced to my company for the evening I took charge immediately of the situation in hand for failure of being made a fool which was at this point inevitable. Not saying a word to my date and disregarding everything I ordered a bottle of the rose. A scene played out in my head that at some point this evening I would rise from the table and scream "Champagne! Champagne for everyone" and the whole restaurant would too join me in a celebration. This was to stay as a fantasy for this evening was one of a melancholy mood. Ordering from a menu I had been scanning all week not knowing if I would even attend this event I made a choice and stuck by it, something that is rare in my world. Making idle small talk we danced around the real reasons we were both in the beautiful surroundings of Covent Garden. Staring into my dates eyes, bright and shiny as they had ever been I wondered which one of us would bring up the question. It had taken a while to get that moment but soon enough it was upon us. With the staff being overtly attentive and the beating evening sun glaring down on us as glanced at our surroundings on the terraced restaurant in the West End of London, I knew it would be me to break the ice once more. Becoming agitated by the lack of urgency in the debate I started. Mr. Cheese in the dock first please!

"So ... As beautiful as a surrounding this all is and as wonderful as to the views; Why are we here?" I beckoned. Heart breaking, I knew the answer before I had even asked the question. A solemn look had replaced an otherwise forced smile and so the evening commenced. Conversation spilling we yet again trudged the same old muddy ground covered like so many times before and one that I refused to put myself through any more. I had enough of going round in circles. It wasn't fun any more. But then again was it ever fun in comparison to the happiness experienced? The lack of passion and fight and energy all lost to somewhere I could not find any more. I was with a man who had no want to carry on trying. Mr. Cheese had lied to me, promising that everything would get better and that he too like me wanted to make it work. Yet again the promise along with a piece of my heart was shattered. I couldn't believe that given the opportunity to make things better and faced with loosing me all together that my boyfriend failed to take such simple steps to make it better. Affection. That's all I wanted. Not just an increase in sex drive on his part but more of the little things. Flowers, presents, cuddles, kisses and anything lovely. I want to be kissed in the pouring rain and surprised at work with a visitor. I want to be swept off my feet and feel butterflies in my belly. I want to have a smile on my face seeing his caller ID and to know that I am the only one my boyfriend needs; Maybe not forever but just to live and feel right in the moment with him. I don't think it is something that I should have to even think about asking from someone that says they love you. But even that I am failing to believe any more. 

During this past year, as most of you know, I have experienced everything a human being could ever experience. From the highest highs to the lowest lows. I was tired and exhausted. Unloved and unappreciated. I wanted to get off this ride now. I wanted to go home. As sad as it was I knew that this was the best thing for us. Things were so easy in the beginning. And then I fell. I fell before him and didn't stop until I hit the ground. Hard. I hated how I fell in love with him. His smile. His eyes. His kooky little ways. I hate how I fell for him and despite everything, he never truly fell for me. I wanted to believe anything other than what Mr. Cheese was telling me over that dinner table in London on Wednesday. Anything. I thought up scenario's of him not being happy and wanting to call Ghana off just to make things better between us. Of being gay - which wouldn't have been the first time something has happened like that. Or worst, cheating on me with someone who is much prettier and slimmer and hotter than me, which in all honesty with the way I had felt of late, would not be entirely untrue. But no, none of those things happened. It was simply the end. 

And so this concludes the chapter. A tale of wrong bridges and of falling in love. A story I hoped might never end no matter how much I told myself it would. Maybe somewhere beyond Ghana we can rekindle our infatuation with each other, making sure that we spend the time to nurture what we have together. After all, we did have a love story to rival Disney. But alas, the story of Cheese and I must come to an end, at least for now ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Sweetest Goodbye

Hi, 

So finally I can now put behind me another sickeningly romantic Valentines Day and look forward to the rest of what 2014 has to offer. So far I have Reading Festival '14 and not much else but with rumours of another mini-break to Chester with Miss Chocolate and possibly Miss Tatts our old college friend as well as a boozed up sunshine break with Miss Chocolate and friends too, there is much to anticipate over the coming months. However I feel that I have become more and more withdrawn over the past few weeks, slowly drifting further into the background, which as you all know is very unlike me. However I am sure I will pick myself off and find something fun to do although life hasn't been very fun this week. Allow me to explain ... 

Rushing around like a headless chicken (Mmm Nando's) I tried my best to finish my mountain of work on my desk before finishing half-day on Friday. Who knew that having a spa day booked would be so stressful and energy-draining. But I must confess, that wasn't the only thing I was heading to London for. I had some stuff I needed to collect from Mr. Cheese that I had left at his flat I so wished to visit one last time, and conveniently for me that aggravatingly contradictory man was heading through Kings Cross St. Pancras Station as I was. Whilst I was going in for some retail therapy and a rub-down, he was heading out on a family weekend to York visiting Grandad Cheese in hospital. And so as I clambered onto the train with minutes to spare I wondered again about what would happen when we finally said goodbye for the very last time. Watching the trees and countryside of the home-counties rush past the window I knew that despite my planning and preparation for this concluding encounter I had been building up to since I took a stand on New Years Day that it could all fall apart as soon as we met. And to some extent it did. 

Of course irony would have a part to play in all of this at some point, this is me were on about here, and right on cue we learnt that Mr. Cheese and I had ended up in the wrong parts of the station and as we had done on our first date, mostly down to my incompetence at geographical locations. Nevertheless I found him, that odd man in casual clothing looking nothing of the London sort, slumped against the glass wall of Starbucks trying to look calm but emulating an awkwardness and uneasiness at the whole situation. Approaching him with a strut in my step I desperately tried to stay calm, trying to remember all the things I would say and the positive crap Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee had drummed into me the past few months, not to mention countless others. Standing in front of the taller-than-remembered Mr. Cheese I saw him relax a little at the notion of my presence. Without a word I was pulled into a hug and almost instinctively I could feel my arms tightening around his waist, clutching at him never to let go. But I had to and noticing my warmth growing rapidly I reluctantly pulled away. 

As people sipped at over-priced coffee and as even more hustled and bustled around us I felt like Mr. Cheese and I were the only ones there. Making small talk we avoided the real reason we were both here in the middle of London. Rummaging in his bag he pulled out my things and handed them to me. I thanked him. Concerned about his Grandad I asked how he was. Mr. Cheese confirmed that all was not well and he was very sick. A million different scenarios ran through my mind and at the same time and as heartbreaking as it was to say I knew I had to offer some comfort. As we stood there eyes wide and filling with tears, saying nothing and everything simultaneously and knowing that the end was nearing I ran through the plan in my head once more. As I opened my mouth to speak, Mr. Cheese shook his head, still piercing my heart with those bright blue eyes of his. Ignoring his gesture I continued. 

"I will always be here for you. If you ever need me. Family, friends, work, anything. You know where I am." I croaked. I felt like I was in a Hollywood blockbuster but I knew that this wasn't going to end like it does in the movies. Taking my arm once more Mr. Cheese pulled me in for one last cuddle, confessing softly that he didn't want me to go. I agreed. I never wanted this to end. Ever. But I couldn't carry on. I cant carry on. I gave Mr. Cheese the chance to make it something wonderful but he chose not to. Slowly pulling away I went to start my well-rehearsed monologue but before I got a chance Mr. Cheese stole my spotlight. "Please don't go. I miss you." He said, voice breaking under every word whilst fighting back tears that threatened to spill over onto his cheeks. Standing there in Kings Cross St Pancras there was still so much left to say. I wanted to scream at Mr. Cheese how obvious it is that this is right. How much I miss him as well. How I crave his attention and how I long for every part of him - His eyes, his beard, his lips, his hands, his hair. Hell even the tippee boobs and chest wig I will miss and all the little things that annoyed me about him.

In a way I saw that history was repeating itself in a way. Mr. Cheese had been in a similar situation only a year beforehand when a close family member passed away. Whilst I felt awful for having to do this now but I couldn't see any other way of fixing it. With his words I knew exactly what he wanted to say. I understood that Mr. Cheese missed me and I knew he didn't want me to go either but I think what he really wanted to say was 'I need you'. Gathering up the rest of my courage I pulled myself together to finish the show. I concluded with I had to go and that I will always love him. Kissing him softly and hearing my heart crack yet again I walked away, blending into the city crowds. As hot wet tears steamed I wondered where it had all gone wrong and if there was any hope of it blossoming again. But no. The chance was given and the choice was made. Now we have to lye in the beds that we made. Alone. 

A relaxing spa, massage and a drink with an friend took the edge off my afternoon engagement however as the journey home took a hold I could help but well-up again and so terminated my Friday; Crying all the way home listening to Maroon 5 and Ed Sheeran. Oh how break-ups fail to disappoint. As Dad has always said - Its always better in the morning (Meaning issues, not sex although it is a valid point to make that sex in the morning is just as fun as when the sun goes down). Upon rising from my bed on Saturday morning with the acknowledgement that I have less than ten hours to put together all my furniture with the help of Papa and turn my flat into a home ready for my house-warming not to mention cramming in some food shopping and relaxy-time. After spending the day calming my father down about the 'poxy wardrobe' and 'wanking bed' (don't quite know how either of those are possible for inanimate objects but there you go, Dad logic) I then embarked on some food shopping and tidying for the evenings entertainment. 

As I introduced the party guests to my humble home I was bombarded with Oohs and Ahhs and a steady flow of compliments from all and as we continued into the night I was glad I had something to occupy myself with although was fully aware that I still wasn't myself after yesterday's meeting. Saturday soon turned to Sunday and after waking up in all the wrong places, me and my entourage headed out for breakfast and not forgetting that I was having a date that afternoon with Mr. Minigolf I made sure to look my best. Unfortunately just after finishing breakfast I received a incredulous message that my date would have to be called off due to a break-in and that Mr. Minigolf and I would have to rearrange our little date for another time. In all honesty I think maybe some 'pieds froids' have taken hold although I am optimistic that we do want to meet-up at some point.

So that was my weekend, a somewhat bitter/sweet affair tinged with unfortunate incidents and sprinkled with erupting laughter and friends. Whilst the door is beginning to close on the saga with Mr. Cheese, I did receive a message from him asking to talk. I explained that I am more than happy to talk and to listen to what he has to say but I have said everything I want to a million times before, and whilst I cant see what difference it will make, I am happy to hear him out. Until that happens though I hope that I can get better and make life a little more happier than it has been ...

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx