A friend wrote me a poem after an hour of coaching me. Said in so many words everything I needed to hear. How did she hear all that and put it in a string of lines with the pause and space just so that it touched me and provided a ‘coaching plan’ for the next few months?

Of heartache, of feeling the grief, the loss, the dissapearance.

I feel them in small and big ways every day. Now, I sit at that long table that I made you breakfast day in, day out in summer; coffee and we would write about life and each other -

Right here.

It is a lot to miss

You are a lot to miss

And I would be amiss to just try to forget you - as there is no forgetting your essence. The space you leave is a mountain of presence and last night I lept from the bath out into the pouring rain to implore you home to me again.

Fucking Martin Shaw - he does this to me - rouses my heart - gives me permission to be amorous - but no.

I shall stand my ground until a season has past, until we have actually let go what must die, and maybe.

Maybe, we want to find each other anew some place new.