So. You've found it. I'm not sure how - through a friend, perhaps, or through Twitter - but I know you're there. And that you've been through all the old posts; the ones where I used the blog as a diary, a place to dump all my bitter, angry thoughts after we'd separated.
You have as much right as the next person to be here. After all, the blog's out in the public domain. I knew you would find it, one day - although hoped that you wouldn't.
We have been through a lot, you and I. That blind hate that I felt for you, two or three years ago, when you were doing everything in your power to trip me up - some of that got poured into the blog. I'm sorry you read it now, at a point where perhaps we are beginning to rebuild our relationship. I hope that you can see that it was a different time. We were both miles away from where we are today.
Ironically, it took something terrible to bring us together. Tween's accident, and recovery, has forced us to talk again. I will never, ever forget that quiet time that we had, the first night that he was in hospital. The two of us sat by his bedside, quietly talking in the early hours, about all sorts of things. Personal things. We hadn't done that for years. I felt closer to you then than I had for much of our married life.
I'm crying now.
When I can't rouse Tween, and you come to my house to look after him so I can go to work - I like that. A lot. I mean, I hate it that Tween is ill, and I worry, like you do. But I like it that we have come together, as mum and dad, to help him. He needs that. When he said to me, "I'm really glad that you and dad are getting on better now", I cried.
I'm doing a lot of crying, recently.
So I wish you well. I can't tell you that, face to face, at the moment - but I hope to be able to, one day. I hope that in the future, we will be able to sit down, and laugh together, and have family celebrations with everybody we love around us.
Not just for the kids.
But for us.