So, I got a day off work yesterday, which was good. What wasn't so good was the violent vomiting that preceded it, the night before. I now know for sure that I have some sort of intolerance to kangaroo meat.

What's that, you say? You were eating kangaroo meat? That's disgusting! Yeh, well, it tastes good, and it's cheap, and I'm supporting the native farming industry. Or something.

But I won't be eating any more cooked pieces of our national icon, that's for sure. There's no mistaking my gastroenteritis for a bad piece of schnitzel this time.

We called the doctor at 11:30pm, he showed up around 3am, about an hour and a half since the vomiting had stopped... but at least he gave me something to suppress any further regurgitation, so I could finally drink something and rehydrate myself.

And what was best, is that I had Anna there comforting me, wiping my forehead with a cool towel, and generally being the perfect girlfriend that she is. And then I got to spend all of yesterday with her, lying in bed till noon, just sitting around chatting, talking again about how funny it is how we got together. (It took us a year of being attracted to each other before we finally grasped the opportunity that was staring us in the face)

I finally caught up with Rob last night, it had been a very long time since he'd been over... we're still comfortable talking with each other, which was good, we had a lot of laughs... it's a shame we don't get to see each other so often, but as we said last night, everybody is getting busier, and as long as we can do things like we did last night, just get together and catch up comfortably every now and then, then we'll still have a good relationship. Anyway, I guess I should get to work. Bah.

It makes me sick, it ties my stomach in knots, to see how much I was hurting her without even realising. I did think it was normal; it was the way we'd been enjoying ourselves since we 16 years old, the past 5 years of our lives. I thought I'd slowed down, I was cutting down on the alcohol, drinking less, though still going on the occasional binge... I didn't think much of it. (Apart from the embarassment sometimes caused by such binges)

I knew she didn't like drinking, didn't really approve of getting drunk, so I tried to keep it away from her. Even that was inconsiderate, and I was stupid not to see that.

'...when we break up'. The fact that she was thinking that way makes me hurt the most, I think. I can't even bear to think about what might have happened if she never told me, if I kept going the way I was.

She didn't think I could change, but I will, and already have... after talking to her about it, I see it in a different light... I can see that I had a problem, and that it may have escalated into something much worse... I personally don't think it would have, but I can see how she would've thought so.

But she is my motivation, and I don't ever want to hurt her like that again; that is what's going to keep me from getting drunk in future. I love her, and I want her to be happy, and I never, never want to hurt her again.

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