When Tom came over to see the kids tonight, we got talking, just the two of us. We were talking about nothing much, but it somehow led to a discussion about saying sorry for things you’ve done and how it’s a sign of emotional maturity.

I went on to say that sometimes we need to say sorry for ourselves rather than for the other person – that the person who apologises often gets as much from it as the person they’re apologising to. I explained to him how I’d written a sorry list to him a few weeks ago and that it had been cathartic in forgiving myself for my mistakes. I said I hadn’t shown him as I felt the exercise was more for me than him.

I realised that if Tom were to write a sorry list for me, it could go a long way in my healing journey, knowing that he too was taking responsibility and not still blaming me. I offered to send him the list; at first he wasn’t sure that it would make any difference to anything, but then he said that we’ve done the sorry bit; that we’ve spoken about it before and recognised our parts in it all. He said he was sorry it didn’t work out because he was and still is in it long term, but he accepted that it’s not meant to be. He told me he was sorry we’d split up, as he felt we were practically made for each other, and he felt that it would have worked if we’d been more adult about things.

He apologised for not giving things a proper go but said that other couples go through ‘real shit’ and stick together.

He said he was sorry for not being stronger, and for being stubborn and letting me move out. He even apologised for not being better with Josh, and for not supporting me enough throughout my pregnancy. But then he said he was sorry that I’d had a relationship with Phil, ‘and whoever else ‘, as he isn’t adult enough to come back from that.

He finished by saying that he was sorry he’d let me down, and that things didn’t turn out as I’d hoped.

I was quite surprised by his unprompted words; it wasn’t what I was looking for, but it was nice to hear.

What I’m just as surprised to find is that it hasn’t made me want to leap back into a relationship with him; in fact, I feel quite at peace with things. If he suggests at any time that we try again, I feel we’d possibly be on a more equal footing, and I feel that with hard work we may be able to get there, but I’m not entirely sure that’s what I do want.

Later, I sent him my sorry list, and found myself feeling slightly freer.

I’ve apologised, and I meant it. I feel it’s time to allow this part of the healing process to take place and then for us to move on. I think we will remain friends for the rest of our lives, and we will always love each other, but I think we need to leave it at that.

We’re two people who had a very strong connection that just didn’t or couldn’t make it work.

I feel it’s time to cry my final tears and let him go. As much as I love him, I cannot make him happy, and he can’t make me happy.

I accept that now.