I'm an executive assistant. I guess this is the best I could hope for growin' up in Chiswick, under my mum. She's never spared an opportunity to tell me where I've gone wrong, fallen short, what have you. But things changed recently. One day, out of the blue, she stopped. Not stopped bein' my mum, you dunce, but the edge on her words just seemed to dull. As if she lost her wind and, I can tell you for a fact, that's near impossible. I'm a direct product of that woman, once we get goin', you betta just grab a comfortable chair because we're on.

Slowly, she seemed to just look at me in a different light, I'd catch her puzzled glances at tea. Maybe puzzled isn't the right word but you try finding another word to describe it when all you're accustomed to is a scowl. Then I got this job and she seemed right pleased with me. I try to tell her I'm just an executive assistant but then she goes on about me being the most important woman in the universe to her or something and then the tears in her eyes make me uncomfortable. I must not have turned out quite like she'd hoped if this is all it takes to please her.

This wasn't always what I had in mind for my life, you know. I've dreamed vividly of impossible things. Unlimited in their beauty but I suppose that's all they'll ever be for me. What business does a glorified temp have with the universe if it isn't learnin' the Dewey decimal system or something but I leave that up to grim speculation.

I met someone a while back. Tall and dreamy. We're due to be married soon. I'm getting married! There are a lot of things that don't seem to add up though. Not with him, he's perfect. But I can't help but think I've done this all before. The wedding dress my mum already had in my size only proved that a marriage was a long time coming, as if she'd been waiting all this time. Literally fit me like a glove. Only alterations I'm even having done are adding pockets. Pockets on a wedding dress. Why? You never know, and plus I want to feel like I have some control over the situation.

Sometimes, when I talk to him, he says certain words and it's like I've lost the meaning to them. Words like "forever" seem to hold false hope for some reason. He and I have what it takes to make a go at it, but I can't help but think I've been let down before but I'm not sure why. Like there is the shadow of a man from a former life who's turned his back on me and now I've lost all reason to hope for forever.

I'm sure with time (that's another one of those peculiar words), he'll shake me of these qualms. My grandfather has reassured me that things will one day come together for me again. As if there was ever a time when things were right as rain for me. Occasionally, I see him perched on the hill, his eyes absorbed in his telescope. If it's chilly out, I'll take him tea and as I'm leaving, he'll say something like "stay and watch with me, Donna," but then he'll think better of it and send me away, pained look in his eyes. Almost scared as if he's upset me. It's as if he knows I dream of something more and it hurts and scares him.

I could always count on my Gran, even if he acts a little peculiar at times. But I don't have the heart to tell him his stars will never measure up to my dreams. I can see them up close from there.