I'm a single woman.

As sick as I felt last night...as sick as I still feel at this moment (my stomach is doing flip flops)....all I can think about is filling the lonliness for a few moments.

I'm sad and happy. I'm happy to be out in some ways....I don't want to see where alcohol and debt lead him. I need so much more love than he can give.

But i'm sad too, becuase you grow quite accustomed to certain things. Like the way our pillows sit on the bed. Or the way he asks if I took my meds this morning. Coffee in the morning. Incense burning in the living room.

Our bedroom alter has us all over it. It has our first pentacles wrapped around a blue clay vase from Ireland. In that vase is a bouquet I had from my sisters wedding. There are rocks from The island of Sanday. A sun from his parents, and two matching blue clay pieces from Ireland. We collected that stuff. Also there is a piece of Oak and some candles. A shell full of change.

You build little things. But I have little things everywhere.

I'll mourn...I know it. It's natural. But part of me is still happy when I cry.

-Perfectbone

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