The only day when I do not want to be hugged or cuddled is the day he freaking decides to do what is usually anathema to him. He never hugs, or tries to kiss me, even when my eyes leak like my stupid drippy bathroom tap, hankering for some attention. Some spontanteous gesture of affection.

He hates physical displays of affection, or so he says.

Yeah, right. (I wonder if shutting myself in my room isn't part of the reason.) Contradiction number I can't remember cos there have been so many, (right in the tens I think).

And the appearance of these sudden affectionate gestures is possibly due to the self-knowledge that he is on the edge of the line of no return.

Off for dinner with his ex-girlfriend with convenient amnesia covering his promise to call and inform me if the dinner date was confirmed. Not to mention the superb witticisms he cracked when he returned. Superb but suicidal.

No. I don't grudge him his dinner date. I reminded him of his obligations, being the good Girl Friday mode I seem to be stuck in his mind's eye. (It's her birthday coming up. I wonder if she reads this. I don't bloody care.)

I'm just angered with his shining memory and brilliant wit.

And grouchy with the ever-present, caffeine and stress induced headaches.

Hey, maybe if he keeps it up, I will get flowers, chocolates, the whole romantic kit and caboodle. Wonderful. I'm so excited right now.