I can’t begin to count how many boxes of Kleenex I’ve got through while sobbing into my pillow like Bridget Jones after a boyfriend has left me – and fantasising for years that they will walk back into my life, proclaiming their undying love.
Sadly, that has never happened. I was just a stuck record, going on and on about them being the love of my life, long after the relationship’s sell-by date.
