Tom told me about a dream he had last night. I looked at it and interpreted it as being about the time we were together and some regrets he has about it.

Yet again, nearly three years on, it gave me a tiny glimmer of hope that he would realise his part in things going wrong and want to work through them. I never told him this, of course, but I did tell him I thought it related to us. He agreed, then backtracked, saying he didn’t think so at all and that he thought it was something else.

I can’t believe my instinct is still to wish him to face this. I can’t believe I still felt hope for a happier future for us, especially as it was only this morning that I was thinking I was completely over him now. How odd that these things take me so unaware.