Today is the 18th of October, 3 months and 10 days since I found out it was a lie, you had cancer and you were going to die.

My phone reminded me of October 18th 2017, my favourite photo. You, me & the pup on an insignificant walk. Mundane to anyone that wasn’t us three. Us three were in love, at least I thought we were. That was probably a lie too but you’re not here to answer that now.

Today the photo I took was a lone selfie. In the background a room that I inhabit that isn’t mine. Boxes and cases with all the possessions I could bear to bring with me. An image of a woman who lost everything.

This time last year I had a family, it was small but it was going to grow. Our wedding was on it’s way, slower than we may have liked but it was firm. We had a home, not our forever home but one we loved and shared together. I had a future, a career I loved and was good at and most importantly I thought I had your devotion.

This time last year you were secretly logged on to pay women to do things you wouldn’t ask me. Not that you couldn’t, not that I couldn’t love all that you are but that you chose to hide from me. This time last year you were secretly buying antibiotics off shady sites to try and cover up whatever was growing in your mouth. You couldn’t have known it was bad then. Why were you hiding that too? what did you do? what were you so afraid to tell me?

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