Big Apple, Big Upset

"There's something I should tell you about my trip to New York," he fiddles with his wine glass stem and doesn't look at me.
"Right," I say cautiously, my stomach already twitching.
"Well, you know when I said I was meeting friends there from Washington? Well actually it's one person, a girl and I've never met her actually, she's a friend of a friend."
"Right," I say, with an edge to my voice I instantly regret. I seem to have run out of any alternative words so for safety's sake I stick with this one word. "Right."
He explains to me the reason he didn't tell me this initially is because it didn't seem relevant however now we've spent so much time together he felt increasingly like he was lying to me. Apparently a female friend of his over here, knows this girl and said she'd be in New York around the same time and suggested they sightsee together as both she and R would be out there alone.
"There's one more thing," he adds, looking up at me. "We're sharing a room."
YOU'RE DOING FUCKING WHAT??????? Screams my brain.
"Is she single?" Asks my mouth.
"Yes. Recently."

This is one of those pivotal moments. It is a golden opportunity to behave in a calm, rational fashion and prove that I am premium, Class A, fantastic girlfriend material. I need to remain utterly aloof and detached from emotion as though the whole thing has nothing to do with me.

I fail.

"Right. So, why exactly are you sharing a room with this person?" I demand, exaggerating the word 'exactly' and twisting my face into mock curiosity and confusion.
"We just thought it would save money. Look, it was all arranged ages before I met you and she's only going to be there for the first two or three days, after that I'm on my own..."
I'm barely listening. Across my mind's eye flash images of this girl and my boyfriend sightseeing all day, wrapped up in scarves and hats, warming their hands on take away coffees and taking silly pictures of each other. The two of them by night finding dark little bars and underground clubs to discover new drinks, new music and new memories, then stumbling back to their little hotel room to... I snap back to the moment and tune into what he's saying.
"...totally understand if you're jealous. I would be, I mean I'm not even comfortable with you having male friends for fuck's sake. Look, I'm really sorry about this but I wanted to be honest."

That was two weeks ago. He left yesterday. In that two weeks I have skirted the subject, acted extremely happy and interested whenever he's mentioned it, and spied on this girl on Myspace relentlessly. She's not exactly stunning but she's not a total dog and let's face it, when you're a bloke who is pissed and having fun it really doesn't matter how a girl looks. I am not naive; R and I have only been going out for just over a month and although it's been intense it is still early days. He could feasibly sleep with this girl - all the opportunity is there. The only thing I can do is endure this next five days with my imagination running riot and wait to see what happens when he gets back.
Of course, the gremlin in my head that pulverises my self-esteem and clobbers my self-worth is busy whispering nasty nothings all day, telling me he won't be back in touch and if he is it will be to dump me.
I reached a low point the night before he left. We had a 'goodbye' phone call and he was utterly unemotional ('talk to you in six days, then!'). I was feeling rubbish and just then one of my Myspace boys rang me for the first time in weeks and we ended up having phone sex. He asked to see me this weekend, for 'a drink' i.e. 'to fuck' and I said yes. Just now I emailed him and cancelled. Although it's tempting to put myself on an even footing for R's potential return announcement it would be a hollow victory. If he does sleep with this girl I want to be fucking Snow White. It's the only way I'll feel remotely good about myself. Nice to know I've got the opportunity though.

Once this is all over, I really should consider therapy.