A love letter...

I'm know I'm guilty of living in denial... Certain weeks I'm quite happy to talk and think about Eoghan, but other times I just can't - it's all too hard. Anyone mentions his name - my barriers go up. I haven't got space in my heart to be in love with two men.
It's all well and good if a man breaks up with you. It's easy to hate him. Your anger makes you reslilient. And friends can't wait to cricitise him ('we never liked his shoes / fringe / whole personality really'). But, when your Great Love dies, it's quite the opposite. Straight up there he goes, on the dead mans pedestal. How can any other man compete?
So, to give John, myself, our relationship a chance, sometimes I just have to block Eoghan out. But, it's funny, no matter how high I build the walls, he always finds a way to sneak over them.
Take last night... I was working late at home, rummaging in my desk for an old notebook to scribble in. I found an old spiral binder I didn't even recognise, opened it up - and a note fell out.
The date, written in Eoghan's handwriting, was 21st May 2007.

'To my Amox,
13 days before our wedding you get more beautiful by the second.
You save my life everyday.
And I love you forever and after.'

I don't even remember ever reading it before. And, though it leaves me shaken and uneasy, I need moments like this. To remind me, what we had was real. Because sometimes, three years on, now my lifes so different, I sometimes wonder if I dreamt it all.

By the way...

Pick up Grazia this week to read the next chapter of the love story...

Three Christmases in...

I've now had three Christmases without him. And it just goes to show how time heals - or at least changes - you.
Christmas number 1: To be honest, I can hardly remember it. I slept-walked through the first six months. There were a couple of memorable moments from that festive season. An attempt at christmas shopping which ended in me standing in the center of Covent Garden market sobbing, because I'd seen a hat on a stall and, on autopilot thought, 'That's the perfect stocking filler for Eoghs'. Also, a phone call to Eoghan's mother which I don't think helped either of us. That's about all I remember of that year...
Christmas number 2: Living in the houseshare in London. You know the 27 men I talk about in my book? On Christmas Eve I woke with #25 in my bed... But by this stage my stamina for one night stands was dwindling. So much so that, when the man in question failed to call me on Christmas day as he'd promised (surprise surprise) I collapsed in a heap and sobbed to my Mother, 'I just can't do this anymore.'
After a mum-and-daught heart to heart I finally realised maybe, just maybe, sleeping with strangers wouldn't stop me missing him... Which led to the NY resolution, '2010 will be a man free zone.' Of course, sods law, three weeks later I met John. Which leads us to...
Christmas number 3: Spent in Australia, 'meeting the family.' And, there's a certain poetic justice in the fact I greeted 2010, with my new fiance, in the country where it all began...

As I said in the book, life goes on - even though you might not be ready for it.

What a difference 12 months makes...

This time last year, when I went home for Christmas, I remember sitting with my mother, crying (Chrimbo always makes me maudlin). It was the aftermath of another disastrous date. Exhibit A, my heart-breaker, was an Australian builder, who wined and dined me through the twelve days of Christmas, then ungraciously dumped me on Christmas Day.
'Don't get bitter and cynical' my mother said, 'One day you'll meet someone lovely who won't mess you around like this.'
Oh, whatever [insert 'dubya' finger sign]. I'd met my 'Mr Lovely' remember? With Eoghan gone, I was in dating retrograde...
Mopped up and mulled wined, I made a decision. I clearly wasn't cut out for dating right now. I didn't have the ego, post-Eoghan, to smooze and lose any more suitors. Time for a NY resolution - 2010 would be a man-free year.
One week later I met John. Three weeks later I told him I loved him. Whats, wheres, whens and hows to come...

The book in short....

And just in case you haven't read the book (and why not?), this will give you the gist...
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1199207/Confessions-scarlet-widow-How-I-used-sex-husbands-death.html

The Next Chapter

So for those of you who read Wife Interrupted, here we are more then one year on... Last thing you heard I had just returned from Ireland, on the 1st anniversary of Eoghan's death.
I had finally called time on my 'relationship' with the Tyler and, with 27 new notches on my bedpost since Eoghan, come to the conclusion that maybe, just maybe, all this bed-hopping wasn't the best form of bereavement therapy.
So last December I vowed, enough is enough, I need to sort myself out - 2010 is going to be a man-free year. Sod's bloody law, only a few weeks later, I met a man who, in the space of three months, went from my spinning instructor (yes, that's how we met), to boyfriend, to fiance...

I won't say, pick your chin off the floor, because honestly, I'm as shocked as you are. You've read my backstory - in all it's gory detail. A widow, who dealt with her grief by sleeping with half of North London, I'm not exactly prime girlfriend material... Still, here I am with a ring on my finger.
How the hell did I get here, in such a short time? From losing the first great love of my life, to finding the second... Well, let's just say, it's been eventful. And I'll fill in the gaps, over the blogs to come....