People I am all of a quiver. As you may have guessed Mark hasn't come home and by all accounts is never coming home again, though he would still like the odd bowl of pasta and the occasional evening where he will be happy to provide his company as long as I neither attempt to discuss his appalling behavior, nor go "getting any ideas" that he may be coming back.
I suspect I may have stumbled into a parallel universe where the gorgeous man I have known and loved for fifteen years has been abducted by aliens and I've got this cold hearted emotionally dead, pitiful little soul in his place.
I'll be back when I've glued my heart back together.
Bear with me?