I actually had a good night’s sleep last night. Annie barely woke, and it made all the difference to how I feel today.

I’ve been in a great mood all day, and Tom has noticed. He’s been warm and affectionate. When I took some photographs of Annie, Tom said we should have a photo together. Looking back at the photograph tonight, I realised that no matter what, I love him and I’ve loved him for the entire two thousand and forty-eight days that I’ve known him.

I don’t think he’s mistreating me at all; I think it’s me.

It’s the tiredness and my inability to cope with little sleep. If it were Tom, then surely he’d have been just the same today even with me in a great mood? He wasn’t. He was loving and warm and the man I fell in love with.

The man that I’ve never stopped loving all these many days later, despite everything.