After a fitful night of almost sleep, my first night of no Klonopin – I work sweaty, and as I sit here – woozy…woozy enough to not be able to do my expenses and look at the computer screen.

Scenes from your/our sickbed keep rushing back to me this am as the bed keeps creeping away from the wall – making my back ache as I slump seated working NYT connection puzzle. There was not time to get the bed fixed ( that damn hospital bed) – I wonder if that was the last straw for you.. you wouldn’t eat or drink… did our bed kill you? was that what made you want to leave the world – me. For you another door to open – for me the destruction of my life.

This morning the past two and a half years are surrounding me like a shroud – damp, cool and heavy. After no sleep and my body wanting to find equlibrium I’m straining against it’s weight.

So much to do… not to do… who am I? What am I doing. Why? And what is my relationship with you my love… You are dead but still here in me… swirling around like a guppy in a late Spring stream. Aching to come out and play. My vision is blurred and I can’t differentiate the green moss and you both moving with the flow of the water – fluid. One heavier weighted to the bottom of the river bed with growth on top reaching for the sun – the other alive – splashing, energized by it’s own growth spurt.

Yesterday I spoke with my gay neighbor who’s husband died last February – six weeks after being diagnosed with a brain tumor/aneurysm? He’s in that place – early on in grief.. I see him isolating but taking good care of himself. He must have money as he’s going alone on two trips.. Taking care of his mother after surgery… He has that lost anxious look… but doing things, like writing his husbands name and his in the still wet cement sidewalk infront of his house. Making it both their home.. I watched him walk off – gaining weight – eyes wide – easy to anger and I recognize myself. The – this is too much for me to understand…no one understands…fuck all of you… He looked like Heathcliff going off into the driving rain with an uncertain destiny…

I can relate. No wonder day’s are too much to plan… nights are a bizarre maze of old movies, repeated meals and watching my alcohol intake.

There is no clear path today… I can only see 4 feet in front of me.

So take it 2 feet at a time. The storm will pass and something will replace it.