The paperwork for our separation is nearly complete – we have a date for the remortgage. It is less than a week from now.

On the one hand, I am desperate for the tension and stress to end.

On the other, I do not want our marriage to be truly over.

I fear for my husband, at the same time as being unable to show or act upon that fear in any appropriate way.

He is still waiting to hear whether the lets he has put offers in on have been accepted.

He is also thinking of buying a flat in Blackpool. He could afford a flat there because nobody actually wants to live in Blackpool: behind the seafront, it is rundown and there are many derelict properties. I know because we looked at moving there a few years ago – we could have bought two hotels there for the price of our little two bed house in Southampton.

Blackpool is five or six hours drive away from Southampton.

It feels like he might as well be on a different planet.

He says that he is devastated. He is shaking with anxiety. We both need this period of uncertainty to be over.

Yet … part of me wants to say it – to call everything off while there’s still time.

Another part can’t.

Or won’t.

Or daren’t.

I am so tired.

I want to exhale. But I also want to stop time.

Finality brings peace. But also grief.