** In case you’re wondering…** these next few posts were written at all hours of the day and night. I will post one a day until I get my routine back at the end of the week.

It is 63 degrees outside right now, and my foxling and I just came back from a walk around our little neighborhood. The air is so moody and full of wet, it was like walking thru rolling fog.  The beauty in the evening is so close, I can touch it.

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The Professor will be coming by on Friday to move out some furniture for his new place. I have a few items being delivered on Saturday, so no one will have to live in a half-furnished house for long. While I am excited to have picked out things for myself and The Historian, I am a little saddened by the thought of him and his new partner moving our… I mean, THEIR beautiful bed into a U-Haul. We have shared in a kind fashion, and it is so time to move on already, but boy, the idea of the things we picked out together not belonging to me any longer is weird. The emotional response is WEARYING; despite my best efforts, there are still times of pain and futile wishing. To add insult to injury, my undisciplined brain keeps creating images to torture myself with. Ones of him and I in summers past, flopping down on the couch after swimming, him in shorts and me in panties and a t-shirt. These become superimposed with ones of them, on their couch, in their home. Her panty-clad ass about 25 pounds lighter than mine, and 12 years younger. It is official, I am the starter wife. Fucking seriously ?!

So I am sitting on the porch, feeling the chill air blow across my red cheeks, and it soothes me like only wet breezes can. I know life is wonderful, and I have many new adventure upon which to embark. I know our relationship will be better for this change, and eagerly look forward to the blossoming friendship and new happiness. But for now, for this moment, I need to just feel the loss. Of my husband, my dreams, my future as I once saw it. Mourning what I have lost will allow me fully embrace what comes next, and build anew. One supposes.

GRACE             by Kate Havnevik

I’m on my knees, only memories, are left for me to hold.

Don’t know how but I’ll get by, slowly pull myself together.

There’s no escape so keep me safe,this feels so unreal…

Nothing comes easily, fill this empty space, nothing is like it seems, turn my grief to grace…


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