I’ve been reading back over everything I wrote here over the years, and it makes for interesting and sad reading.

It’s made me realise that, for now at least, I can’t see myself living with a man again. There is a part of me that loves the thought of living with someone I love, but right now, there’s a much bigger part that still screams at me to never put myself in that position again.

I wish I could say I’m happy living on my own, but I’m not. I’m lonely a lot of the time and I long for company, but I think I’d rather have that than risk ever having a repeat of what I had with Tom. It wasn’t as if it was just him.

Living with Greg wasn’t a barrel of laughs either. He was so mean-spirited, mean with money and unbelievably jealous and possessive. He sulked if I had a night out, and he completely lacked empathy and compassion. I haven’t had a single good experience living with someone, and I doubt very much it would be any different with anyone else.

I weakened and got back with Phil recently, and yet again, I don’t want to be. It’s not fair on him.

I’ve thought about just having a relationship with him, and seeing him once a week or once a fortnight, but I don’t even want to do that, not with him, not with anyone. Selfishly, I want a relationship only on my terms at the moment, to see someone only when it suits me. I wouldn’t actually be that selfish to start a relationship on those terms.

I could consider just having a man in my life for sex and nothing else if I found the right man, who also didn’t want anything else, but quite frankly, I don’t think I can be bothered with that either at the moment. Overall, my relationship with Tom made me see that I need to start putting myself first and meeting my own needs, but I think it’s gone too far the other way, and I’ve become really selfish. I don’t know which version of me I prefer – the old or the new. I hate to say it, but I think I prefer the old. I feel as though the new me is a much harder, less kind version of who I used to be.

I don’t think it helps that I have the most horrendous PMS; it’s now day three of feeling like I want to kill someone. I’m angry, I feel aggressive, and I’m snapping at everyone. I feel depressed and have spent the last three days hiding away as much as possible, not speaking or even making eye contact with anyone if I can help it.

I’m tired, sad and tearful, and all of a sudden, with no reason for it, Theo has been on my mind. I never heard back from him after our date six weeks ago, apart from the odd ‘nothing’ kind of text. I don’t understand why. I did contact him after a week or so to ask what happened; he didn’t even reply, and that makes me sad. What is so fundamentally wrong with me that he didn’t call? We had such a good night (ignoring the disappointing sex); we were all over each other, we had lots to talk about and loads in common, we laughed, we couldn’t stop kissing and holding hands all night and then nothing. It all just stopped.

I’m so hurt by his actions. I wish he would contact me to tell me what went on. I have to conclude that either he just wasn’t that into me but thought he’d get a shag out of the night anyway, or that he played me all along and all he wanted was sex, or that he met someone better, or even that he was put off by me for sleeping with him on the first date.

I don’t even know if he could have been a long-term thing because one date isn’t enough to determine that. I sensed as soon as we’d had sex that he’d withdrawn, and in the morning he was frosty. It hurt me a lot more than I realised, until now.