This would be fun if it wasn’t so awful. My cousin has come from her home seven hours drive away to be with me. She got in her car as soon as T spoke to her.  It took her all day to get here, with her heart in her mouth and post Christmas weariness. She is my cousin, but shares my soul.

Jill and Cathy have been with me since it all began. Everyone is gathering to look after me. My role is to look after you. My phone rings, I make calls, the world around us continues.

Your sister calls me for the first time ever. She is concerned for me, as well as you. I’m a bit taken aback by that. We talk for while and she wants to be involved. I want her involved but don’t know if you will.

I call your friends and they ask me ‘why’? It would take me a lifetime to explain that.

I try to think of your work and who I should call. I don’t want them contacting you, more to protect you than them. I want the outside world to stop for you.

I need to tell people, but every time I do, I cry. I’m exhausted and drained.

People are feeding me and tidying my house and making cups of tea. I am fine for a while and listen to the conversation, but then I get a fright when I think of you and what you have done and why they are all here.

I need to take some things into the hospital for you. It takes me all morning to get myself organised and ready. I keep being interrupted, but it’s okay.

I go to see you. You smile at me and look more relaxed. You are smiling at me lots. I don’t often see you smiling, so it’s unusual. That sounds odd doesn’t it, but you don’t smile much. You are generally not a happy person. A smile is unusual – how sad is that?

You have met with the doctors and tell me you have been speaking. You and I are out in the courtyard. You and I talk and you do seem much better. I try to help you put all the pieces together, you don’t remember much of what happened, but you can see your wrists, so you know it did.

You and I begin to relax a little together. It’s a good familiar feeling. We also touch each other, I rub your leg, you hold my hand, we hug, we kiss and then we look around this courtyard we are in here at the psychiatric hospital.

I cry as I tell you how I feel. I can’t keep it inside this time.

You promised me yesterday that you will never do this again. Today, you know you have made me that promise and remind me. I tell you about the police and how they found you. You realise that you may loose your licence and all the implications that will have on our lives – but you remind me of your promise. I resolve with you that we will deal with each day as and when it comes. I regret telling you some snippets of the previous few days, but you need to know it all, so you can put it together.

I leave after two hours, you tell me you can only talk for so long – I need you to talk more, but that’s okay for today.

I am still here and so are you. I can’t stop talking and trying to put it all into words.

But I know that’s me, not you.