Five months? God, lad. I was married for seven years. The world revolved around her. Everything about me was defined by her. I liked what she liked because I loved her. I disliked what she disliked because I loved her. We had a baby so she could feel complete as a woman while I was not so gone on the idea. But if she wanted to be a mother instead of the person I knew and married and loved, that was all part of it. I was willing to do whatever I could to help her be who she wanted to be. Turned out it wasn't my child. She divorced me, took the daughter (Elayne), cleaned the house out with a moving van while I was at work. Came home. Even most of my own bloody clothes were gone. I got a letter from her solicitor (Who used to be ours).

The terrible terrible thing?

I still love her. Bloody hell.

Is there a difference between love and obsession?

I don't know for anyone else.

But I'd say no.