If threes one thing miss Stanhope, miss McDonald and the people of southern Asia teach me, it is the strength of the human spirit. The human heart is a strong muscle indeed, but in the dark watches of last night, I thought mine would break. Last night Becca called it off.

Of course, she can no more deny her heart than I can deny mine. She does not love me, and so she had to call it off. Monday night it seemed I wanted something she could not give, and I must respect that. But it doesn’t stop it from hurting. Badly.

A strange watery light streams through my window: quite a lovely day. The sun has risen, and there will be others. None like becs, for she was one in a million. We agreed to remain friends: speak online, perhaps see each other now and them, but I still feel kind of empty. Its as if my fears of being alone have been confirmed (although Becca did the opposite).

This morning, over breakfast, a thought occurred to me. If Becca cannot be my girlfriend, but I still love her and she still likes me, what can she be. At that moment, I smiled, for Luke was telling me of his break-ups while making my breakfast. What kind of relationship contains love, but not of the mad passionate kind?

The love expressed between siblings is strong indeed. I have known Luke and mark to traipse halfway across the country for me, and I would gladly do that for Becca (or get someone to take me). Thus, if Becca consents to be my honorary sister, I’ll be quite happy.

Oh well. I knew it had to end sometime, and as mum pointed out last night “it is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all”. This is certainly true, and while we were together, Becca showed me how wonderful life can be. I know now what love feels like: I know why Shakespeare wrote the sonnets, and why all the greatest things in life were made: love is the greatest emotion of them all, and it is also, I now realise, why I have t let her go.

On her livejournal, beccs asks for my forgiveness. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, to forgive her for, save if one has to apologise for re-igniting ones faith in humankind. I still have a warm feeling when I think of her, but I have a feeling of equal strength, this time of worry, when I hear Luke’s bike rev up. What I’m trying to say is that I would like to count becs now as my sister. Might I remind her, though, that sisters sometimes come for tea.