I've been thinking a lot lately. How do you know you really love someone? I used to think I knew, and now I'm not so sure. I miss The Spaniard an awful lot. I haven't stopped thinking about him. I know it's only been 3 weeks since we broke up, but he's on my mind an awful lot. Did I really love him though? If I did, wouldn't I know beyond a shadow of a doubt?

We hadn't seen an awful lot of each other since the break up, but last Wednesday we had a really fun night out, and it ended on him telling me that he missed me and that I'm still on his mind. There were kisses and cuddles, from which we were both reluctant to withdraw from, and it left me awfully confused. He was very drunk, and told me that I'm the best - the best what, the best at what - your guess is as good as mine. He said he didn't want me to leave, but since there was so much alcohol involved, I knew that there would be a chance that the next day there there could be regret on his part, if he even remembered any of these events at all. I couldn't work out whether he was trying to tell me that he wanted me back or if he was just saying sorry for the way we ended up.

There was a point last week where I would have said for sure that I did love The Spaniard. When you love someone, you want to protect them, to shelter them from the things that hurt them and to soothe their pain no matter what, right? I felt that, so strongly, last week. I can't tell you the exact situation, but I just wanted to put my arms around him, hold him tight and make everything okay. Is that more than you would feel for a friend? I'm still not sure. I do know though, that I look for him online when I log on before bedtime (an old ritual of ours), and it still makes my heart skip a beat when I see his name in my inbox.

I wish I knew with some certainty what he wants from me. On my part, I still don't know what I want - I remember what the bad times were like and how awkward and lonely it felt sometimes, and that stops me from jumping back in. But I also can't deny the obvious chemistry we still have, and I can't forget the lazy comfortable evenings and weekends we spent together and the times he made me feel so special. Is it him I miss? Or it is just that I miss having someone there? I don't know. I do know though that, where before I felt that there was occasionally *something* missing from the relationship, now I feel like something is missing from my life.

Is it me, or does life never get any less confusing? I'm 27 next month -  I should be an adult, and yet so much of the time I feel like a lost child, making everything up as I go along. When does it get easier?

The last few mornings, I've woken up with a dull ache in my heart - one that felt strangely familiar, although I couldn't pinpoint what it was when it first began. And then I realised -  it was the lonely ache you feel when you love someone who no longer loves you back - the one when you know your relationship is coming to an end. After my previous relationship ended, I woke up with that ache everyday for 8 months.

When The Spaniard came into my life, although I didn't really notice it at the time, the ache that I felt slowly lifted until it disappeared altogether. I guess it was the rush from being in a new relationship that did it - all those new possibilities, the hope, the passion, the flirtation. So until a few days ago when the ache returned, I hadn't even noticed that it had gone.

But now it's back. Another relationship that didn't last. This time "you're a nice girl, but I'm not in love with you". If you look at my last post in February, it was something I'd known for a while, but had chosen to ignore, hoping that sooner or later it might happen, that those little awkward quiet moments would turn into comfortable silences. But life doesn't work like that, and I guess some things are not meant to be.

So on Friday, I was that girl on the tube with tears running down her face. But I do respect him for having the courage to be honest with me - it can't have been easy. After all, I too had identified that 'something' was missing, yet I had said nothing. The last 4/5 months have been fun and, above all, I'm grateful. Because, for a while at least, The Spaniard made me feel that there was another chance at love, and he lifted my sadness. It was good while it lasted, but ultimately we weren't right for each other, even though I wanted so much for this to be IT. Perhaps though, I've gained a good friend.

So, another frog down, I guess. I wonder how many more before I find my prince?

You know the saying that, in every relationship, there's always one partner that is more emotionally invested than the other? That person is me. It always is.

We’re at the stage of the relationship when it’s time to decide what you mean to each other – is this to be a casual thing that will eventually fizzle out, or will we come to mean more to each other? I know that people love at their own pace. I know that it can’t be rushed. But I also know that I, personally, can’t be in a relationship that will go nowhere.

There are certain tell-tale signs that a girl looks for to determine how important she is in her partner's eyes.

Try as you might, you can't make someone love you.

August 14th 2008 11am. That was the last time I was in his arms.

I barely remember that morning -- the details have since faded away, leaving only a blur of images. When I think back now, the memory is simply of a dull ache in my heart, of the knowledge that those would be the final hours I would spend with my boy before we would be parted for a year. One year. It was never meant to be any more than that before we would have our whole lives together. How wrong could we have been?

The night before he left, we lay in each other arms, knowing that every tick of the clock meant that there were fewer precious seconds to spend together. We held each other and I cried, thinking of the void that would be left in my life when he'd gone. In the early hours of that day, we stood on the balcony in London Bridge, looking over our London. He said,"You touched my heart on our first date, halfway over Waterloo Bridge, when you stopped, took my hand and said to me "Look - that there is my London". And now it's mine too. Thanks for teaching me to appreciate the simple things in life".

That resonated with my soul. It was a memory I had all but forgotten, and it melted me that something I had said or done so unwittingly could have touched him so profoundly.

I remember the last touch of his hand, the last fierce hug he gave me, the last glance back as he stepped through the departure gate. When he'd gone, I wandered down the corridor of Gatwick airport and cried. And then my phone rang - my boy, calling me from the plane. He missed me already. He said, "Be strong for me". On my journey home, I could smell his scent on my skin.

That was one year ago this very day. We remain best friends, even though we both know that this will make it harder for the one of us when the other moves on. Despite the multitude of times I've cried, hurt and felt heartbroken and alone, I don't regret a single moment of our time together. I still wish things could be different..

Currently feeling bruised (not physically) and sad. Will be back soon.. xxx