With all the older kids at their Dad’s house for the weekend and Annie away with Tom, Phil took me to London for the weekend as a distraction. We had a nice time but my mind was elsewhere for most of the time, namely with Annie. It did help to clarify in my mind how I feel about Phil though. There’s still no spark and there’s still not the major feelings I’d expect to have. I’m struggling with his weight and the lack of attraction I feel for him but there is a slow, deep love growing for him. It’s a comfortable recognition of who he is inside, a love for the very essence of him rather than the ‘I want to jump your bones’ kind of love.

I feel that what I have with Phil has the potential to grow into something really worthwhile and meaningful because he’s simply the nicest, kindest person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing if I could just get over the way I feel about him physically. I can’t help wishing a little that there was a bit of a spark. Maybe I’m just putting too much emphasis on the need for something that maybe is not that important in the long term anyway?

It’s the strangest sensation for me to love someone, to love the very core of who they are, but not necessarily be in love with them or maybe that’s the mistake I’ve made too many times in the past? Going with my heart instead of my head, letting myself be led into a dance that’s been no good for me because I’ve followed a spark of electricity?

All I know right now is that Phil has made this weekend without the kids, so much easier with his kindness, thoughtfulness and love and that has to count for something.

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