I'm back at work now. It's boring and I feel like I never left. The past six months I've been off sick with depression. Being back at work, I thought might keep my mind busy. On the contrary, I can do the work, I just find it difficult to concentrate. My mind is arguing with itself. There's so many things I kick myself for never saying. Things I never did and things I did wrongly.

I miss him. I know I shouldn't, I shouldn't want anything to do with him. He humiliated me, jeopardised my job, implanted traumatic memories into my head. Memories which still awaken me throughout the night with screams of terror.

My friend Dave once told me I should forget about him, move on. He should mean nothing to me, after all he's put me through. I'm in therapy because of him. It's easily said and I know Dave's right. But still, you can't just throw three years of devotion away like it meant nothing. I fell in love with him - I still am in love with him.

Dave made me laugh today. I was telling him all about this and how I had a moment of weakness whereby I nearly called him. (I just feel so alone all the time. He used to make that better. Now we never speak. I suppose it's for the best, but I still wish it weren't so). He said "but you've only seen him once". It's true, I have only seen him in person once, I feel this is why no-one really understands me when I say he was The One. I had never felt like that ever in my life. Being with him was almost like a dream, something out of a fairytale, but it was reality. It makes me smile when I think about how happy I was just little over a year ago. It saddens me to think that there's barely any physical memories of that period of time left.

All I have left is a photo I had framed as a 19th Birthday present for him last summer. It's still in my room, hidden with the letters I've also kept. Of course I've got his jacket - he gave me it as a going home present as the sleeves are now too short for his arms, he was 6'5", a foot taller than me. I used to sleep in that jacket every night.

I've got a t-shirt I bought when his mother took us to Disney World, Florida. We both bought identical t-shirts and signed each other's. I haven't worn that t-shirt since he touched it. It still smells of his sweet, heart-stopping, beautiful scent. I wear his deodorant - (in fact, typing it to him actually taught me how to spell the word correctly).

Every night for several nights after I came home I'd fall asleep with my xbox headset on in a private chat with him, just so I could hear his voice as I was nodding off into a pleasant slumber (this was before the nightmares became a regular occurrence). The first night we tried this I awoke in the middle of the night - still getting over the jet lag - half asleep I searched around for him calling out his name once or twice. As soon as I fully awoke to find myself in my own bedroom, in my own bed, in my own house, back in Scotland, back in Europe; I burst into tears. It was just so difficult getting back into the knack of things, back to GMT, back to being alone. Leaving him in Nashville airport was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, even now. Our last kiss, last hug, the last breath I got of his scent. The last look into his perfectly blue eyes. Knowing it could be months before I saw them again. However, as it turns out, it was the last.

I'm in a perfectly normal relationship with someone else now. Don't get me wrong, I love Dale to bits, he's lovely in every sense of the word, but compared to him he's far from perfect. I hate myself for knowing I'll never love someone as much as I loved him. I feel guilty for staying in a relationship with Dale when he's all I can think about. It's unfair of me because I know Dale loves me with all his heart. I just can't seem to find the strength to love him with all my heart back.

I'm broken. I've been broken for a very long time. I'm never going to be whole again. I know that. But I an give myself, every little broken, tiny piece to him. I will do my best. But it'll never be perfect.