Once upon a time I met a boy in University.
It was a fleeting moment and I'd forgotten all about him until I bumped into him a few months later whilst I was doing an early morning hungover Tesco shop in my pyjamas. That chance encounter turned into a three and a half year long relationship. It was a mixture of long distance and living in each other's pockets constantly when we were both in the same country. The relationship survived a year long stint in France, my personal demons and his own struggles. It was hard work at times. But it also was good. Comforting.
But what was also hard work was moving in together, and then a few short months later finding out that he'd been cheating on me for six months in the most abysmal fashion.