I placed a call late friday night to Patrick, Joe's lawyer friend, and after only a few short days I sit here posting from a full veranda attached to a cottage on three acres I had no idea even existed.
Two stories, Loft bedrooms, a pond... and me alone.
I'm so scared.
Mitzi WOULD have loved it here.
We had no need for a new home, but since Joe has past I have needed something, I have been unable to hold my life together. I started to think honestly about this whole idea. Writing here, being open. Why am I exposing my life, my conquests during my time of grief? I almost requested to have the whole thing deleted. I didn't talk myself into it but Joe always wanted me to write something amazing, I will let you know it was a letter he wrote - I will post it when I'm ready- that convinced me I have to continue, in Joe's memory.
I have brought Mitzi’s ashes (yes we kept her ashes were fags these are our children) and I’m going to bury them. This cottage was to be our rest. I will respect his memory, I can even see our life together and all the tears well again.
Dorothy drove with me but i sent her home, I was left in the blink of an eye to fend to my own desperation and will admit I am going to cry tonight.