Last night after I got home, my wife was very upset with me because of my last post, with reference to “lamb and mutton”, etc. Trouble was, she had cooked tuna steaks; and very nice they were too. Unappreciative bastard that I am, I should have known.

I thought my last post was quite amusing, even though I say it myself, and a little lighter than my usual offering(s). It was just a play on words and applicable to any husband/wife relationship at a similar stage.

She thought that I was only managing to make myself come across as very bitter. I was being disparaging towards her. That my blog was all too much of a personal “attack” on her.

Well, if that is the case, then I here publicly apologise to her – in front of the whole blogging fraternity. I am not trying to be “nasty” towards her. If anything, if she really were to read much of what I have written, a lot of it is very positive, loving and flattering about her.

But I am only trying to express my overall feelings; and I can’t get away, and neither can she, from the facts of what has happened.

What am I meant to feel in the circumstances? What has anyone else felt when betrayed in this way? What other word is there to describe it?

Joy (maybe for her)? Happiness, Gratitude and Relief (maybe as other husbands might feel)? I haven't yet found it. Perhaps other readers know and can comment.

I certainly have a very heavy heart, a lot of hurt and sadness, a lot of regret (for my past apparent failings towards her) and, yes, bitterness – because of the way it came to this and because it all seems to be so needless and tragic for us all; her, me, the children.

But I also retain a lot of love for this woman, who will always be a woman, my woman, to me.

Can she and everyone else not see that side too?

As it happens, once she had calmed herself down and we had both taken our helmets off and put the grenades away, we did end up having a reasonable and pleasant conversation (which inspired my next post).

And she did stay in the kitchen throughout. That's something, I suppose.