I now live alone. Except when I don’t, like now when C is here for the evening and night. She’s all moved in to the Alresford place and it looks very cosy in her new room, with her desk, the cabinet with all the acupuncture equipment, the oriental rug and her plants. It felt good in the lounge too, really… normal. The big TV on, the same in all the other houses in the cul de sac, like that’s what we are supposed to be doing. The flat at Brockwood looks quite empty now, rug gone, paintings gone, much of the furniture gone, just some of my scruffy stuff which all needs tidying. A lot of the style of the flat came from C, and she has good taste. Now I can have my input as to how this place looks – some more reds, maybe an old desk and perhaps replacing the small sofa for a day bed. I was sad for a while today, us having done these major moves always together over the last 6 years and now C moving alone. I had a cry. We are still together, only doing things in our usual unconventional-but-feels-right way.

Plotted the yoga class for this Tuesday after we watched Top Gear and ate hearty vegetable stew.