There is a little Juliet inside me, hoping I will lock eyes with my Romeo on the other side of a fish tank or through a gap in a library bookcase. Hell, even if it's behind the condiments section in a supermarket. I don't really mind.

I didn't want him to be the one I avoided because he'd hurt me. If I was just his friend, then I would still be blessed. If that meant swallowing my pride and being his shoulder when he got hurt, or being the one he ranted at when he was angry; I was prepared to do it and to do it with dignity.

I'm cautious with the love word because I really know what it means. I've been there, done that and I know what the implications are. I also know that people say they love people when they don't, and it often results in tears and avoidance of bars, supermarkets, even whole towns in extreme cases.

It must be difficult loving someone that much and having to pack it away into a little box and pretend it isn't there'That was a very good way of describing it. A little box. Packed full of love. Love that I had never really been able to express, so it was banging away at the sides and screaming to be let out. 'Yes it has been. And really, it's a little box I carry everywhere with me, because I guess the love never properly goes away.