should there ever again be any doubt– the next time you see me wielding a sledgehammer or reading a bentley manual– just remember that there seems to be no limit to the number of times i can watch ‘four weddings and a funeral’. and i cry every time matthew reads this bit from w.h. auden:
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.