Sitting at home, joint in hand, I'm having a relaxing evening having just released my second album Faith in the Future. There were a few songs on there that were more personal, written about you.

Specifically, Chicago. It's my way of voicing my feelings about our breakup. My way of telling you that even after seven years, I still loved you and still thought of you. I hope you hear it, I hope you know it's for you.

Eleven years ago our worlds colided and we were put into a band together on the X-Factor. In 2012, we'd started our relationship. We were young and in love, and honestly, you were my safe place in such a crazy world. In 2015, the process of the band going on a hiatus had begun and along with it the end of our relationship.

It wasn't a hateful breakup, it wasn't because of anything malicious or because we'd fallen out of love. Life just got in the way. Between working out who I was without the band and things going on in my family life, it just wasn't fair on you when you knew what your next steps would be. We were both heartbroken, you understood but you didn't want to break up.

That didn't mean we didn't still love each other though. You were there for me after my mum passed, and then Felicite. You'd sent a care package when my little lad, Freddie, was born. I'd done the same for you. When your little girl was born, I'd sent a care package. When you'd won awards for your music, I'd congratulated you. It just wasn't as personal as we used to be, gifts and texts sent from a distance.

I still thought of you, I wonder what you'd think of how I'm doing. I wonder what you'd think of songs I'd written, or things I'd do. I wonder if your relationships hadn't worked out for the same reason as mine - they weren't you.

I take a drag of the joint in my hand when my phone rings next to me. I don't even need to think twice when I see your name, I swipe to answer and bring the phone up to my ear.

"Alright, trouble?"