The diary thing, addendum

Can you imagine?

Can you imagine if he HAD read my diary?

Oh, my goodness.

I would have to – have to – I don’t know. Resign or something. Which, to be fair, may have some advantages. But, still.

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But. Does he know? Does he even need to read my diary? Sometimes I think he knows.

Sometimes I think the chemistry between us is so strong he can’t possibly not know.

Sometimes I could cut it with a knife.

Sometimes like tonight it feels like he feels the same. I thought for one minute maybe he was actually going to put his arm around me and let me relax against him.

All that tension. All that fear. All the stress of the last few days and my anger at myself for making him angry with me. All the shame.

I just wanted him to hold me. I think if he’d held me long enough all that tension would have gone.

Instead I’m taking Nurofen and going to bed. Not quite the same.