Snake road.

 I didn't imagine this road yesterday, A snake road as opposed to a ladder. Here is re-bereavement terraces, here is despair boulevard. This is me totally used up, re-fractured, glass ground into concrete.

Just came round to get his things. I admit, there had been a certain joy in putting all his family stuff, plates and bowls, books, odds and ends in the box and thinking GONE!

That isn't the same as having him come back and load things into his car. Telling me about how sad he is there in his dead parents house, sleeping in the room he slept in as a child - but that's still better than being with me.

Because he is so bad, not a good person, not a good man.

He says.

Not I.

All I can say is...

Stop this!

Mend it...

So, re-bereavement is how it feels. As bad as the moment when he left, repeat, and repeat and repeat. It didn't take very long to happen. I tried to avoid it, I was out when he came here...I then went out to hang out the washing. 

But tears began there, and they still fall...