Cardiff will always hold a special place in my heart. As I was telling you in a previous post, I fell in love with it as soon as I got off the London train on a cold and dark December. In my mind, the name will always conjure up a memory of frozen nose and red cheeks on evenings at the Bay. I was so cold that I could no longer feel my fingers and Mermaid Quay sparkled with fairy lights. We stopped at the (now defunct) Café Rouge. I remember the warmth of the onion soup bowl around which I wrapped my hands and afterwards, the icy wind as we walked back to our hotel. I loved that winter, as I have loved every winter there ever since (though it is of course very nice in the summer too).
For the past twelve years, I have been in a beautiful – though challenging – relationship with a brilliant Italian man. We have had our ups and downs, like in any relationship, but our ups have been peaks and our downs, abysses. To be fair, I have known from the beginning that our story was doomed, as it has been plagued by further complications, namely: