‘Are you going to sweep that up?’ I asked, knowing that you hate being told to do things right before you actually do them.

‘Obviously,’ you said, spitting the word out at me like chewing gum onto a pavement.

I never feel that angry anymore. If someone does something I disagree with, like uses the last of my margarine when they know I like toast in the morning, or turns the oven off when I was warming it up ready to put something in it, I don’t shout. I think about why they might have thought they could do that. Maybe they were worried about the house burning down. Maybe they thought I was finished. I follow the thought patterns until the red glow eases away and I can fall asleep on the pillow at night without gritting my teeth.

I’m still not sure if you learn anything from pain, though I do think you learn from what you do to get away from the pain. Finding ways to process your emotions better. Learning who you can rely on. No longer positioning your sense of self around another person. Months after lockdown first started, I’m like one of those people who comes off a TV survival show, turns to the camera and says, ‘Now I know I can get through anything.’