After a lot of screaming, shouting and tears from me, he packed up some things and was gone. I honestly don’t remember how or why he left; whether I asked him to go, or forced him to go, or whether he left on his own accord. All I know was that it was past 11pm by that point, and the first two hours of my new life had just flown by in the blink of a very sad, blurry, teary eye. Of course, 99% of me didn’t actually want him to leave, but looking back, I am so glad he did. In that moment in time, all I wanted him to do was tell me the truth and beg for my forgiveness. I didn’t want to lose him. I still wanted my perfect little family, like all my friends had. But looking back, I am so grateful he left. If he hadn’t, my life would be very different right now, and I very much doubt I would have anything interesting to write!