He was the love of my life, and he'd been away from me for a week, on a skiing holiday with his brother - the first time we'd been apart in three years. I'd missed him so much, and now here he was, back again, walking towards me along the platform in the station like a suntanned God.
Handsome and charismatic, without him life was a silent world without colour and light. He was my light, and I flew towards him now like a moth to a flame, flinging myself into his arms. Everything was right with my world again; he was home. I had my man, my passion, and I had my imagined future of the two of us, white-haired, strolling hand-in-hand by the sea together in our old age.
Two months later, our relationship was over.
I'd been to the supermarket to buy food for his packed lunch the next day. When I entered the house, everything was quiet. Too quiet, because the car was outside, so I knew he was home, and he didn't do quiet. Whenever he was alone, he filled the silence with music, or by making long phone calls to his friends.
I went into the sitting room to find him sitting on the sofa, strangely still, his face filled with tension. Immediately, I went to sit next to him. In the past year, he'd lost a close friend in a cycle accident, and I'd lost my father to cancer. Not unsurprisingly, I feared the worst.
"What is it?" I asked, taking his hand. "What's wrong?"
Absolutely nothing had prepared me for his reply. Since his return from his skiing holiday, life had continued exactly as normal. Shared meals. Doing things with his daughters when they stayed with us. Walking the dog. Going out to social events. And passion. Plenty of passion. As I say, everything absolutely as normal.
He hadn't met my eyes since I'd walked in, but now he looked up.
"I've met someone else," he said.
Time stood still. I swear, it really did. For around 10 seconds, it was as if we were both frozen in time.
I didn't need to ask any questions, because I knew exactly what he meant. I didn't have all the information I would later learn - that he had met this new woman while he was on his skiing holiday, that he had tried to resist her, but the connection between them was too strong. That she had been phoning him at work. That he had lied to me about his whereabouts on several occasions to visit her.
For those ten seconds, none of that mattered. A shaft of light penetrated my brain; a light I knew would all-too-soon be swamped by extreme darkness.
I can remember my thoughts being really lucid for that short period of time. I knew a tidal wave of indescribable pain was about to hit me. But for those ten frozen seconds, that shaft of light showed me a glimpse of what the future could hold for me - a future without him.
"This is going to hurt so much. It's going to take a long time to get over. But when I have, I won't have to struggle with being a stepmother to his girls any longer. Maybe I'll even be able to have a child of my own."
Readers, I did just that. After I'd dealt with the tidal wave.
So, my challenge to you, if you're dealing with a broken relationship right now, is to use this TEN-SECOND TIME-FREEZE TECHNIQUE yourself.
Find somewhere quiet, where you won't be disturbed. Close your eyes and take a series of deep breaths. Imagine the sky, with the sun breaking out of the clouds and sending down a shaft of light. Let that light connect with you, revealing the best future you can possibly imagine for yourself after you've dealt with the pain of your current situation.
What do you see?
Try to make it just about you. Your deepest dreams and desires. Now, write them down - just a few words will do. And put them somewhere safe. They're your treasures.