Five months on.

My darling Tall, is it really five months since you lay there smiling at me? Time seems to be twisted like a mobius strip by grief, weeks can feel like a month, a month feels like only yesterday and sometimes I feel I have walked miles only to find myself back where I started.

After five months I find that I still weep for you, the tears are flowing freely as I type this letter. Yet, I am starting to do things by myself, for myself. On Friday I went to the hairdresser's for the first time since you died. I know that most people won't understand how difficult it was, may be if I were to tell them that Ade was also your hairdresser, that we would often go together and take it in turns to sit on the large red sofa watching the other being attended to. I have to admit that I did shed a tear sitting there waiting on Friday, I could see you sitting in Ade's chair, chatting away as he cut your curly locks. 

I have moved a few items of furniture around, with help, and started to clear things that I will never use. I am beginning to make my own decisions. I know you would be pleased, even when I tell you that I had to kick the builder into touch. The inappropriate texts began again and even when I made it clear they weren't welcome, they continued. For a few days I felt guilty, that I should have stopped it earlier, that I must have said or done something that gave MP the idea that I was interested in him. Then I realised it wasn't me, and I remembered a phone call that you had had in the garden, when someone else had told you that MP had been sending texts to his sister. That you hadn't believed it. That you had called MP and told him what had been said, and that you didn't believe it. At that moment I became angry, not for myself, but because MP had betrayed you and your trust in him. How can I ever trust him again? So now I am in limbo, so many jobs around the house that you had asked MP to deal with, and me not trusting that I can find someone who I can trust. I will get there and even if I don't, the house won't fall down, it just won't be a show house. 

I am beginning to see a chink of light and that in a way scares me. What if people think I didn't love you as much as I claim? I know how much you meant to me, I know that you knew how much I loved you, it was the last thing you heard. I will always love you and I know I can never find a love so special ever again. I can only hope that outsiders understand that even if I start to live for myself, it doesn't mean I wouldn't rather be living for us.

My endless love
Good Cheer Pixie x x x