2 years have gone, and, as last year, I ask the question where? And, again, still no nearer putting it into words, the tears, the pain, the love, the fear?
Also, rather strangely, Spitfire has been unbelieveably attentive, meowing (which he NEVER does, and getting under my feet. And then the phone rang, just before 12, Nige and Ian calling to suggest various ways of getting me out of circulation today and for the rest of the week. Unfortunately I'm off North for another Primavera session with our production colleagues, and my mates. A bit of teaching, some consulting, and lots of drinking 
I've posted an entry on Jules weblog, and will add more when the messages come out in the local paper tomorrow.
T'is time for bed, and as my eyes close, time slips back to those happy memories, so much stronger these days. I miss the hugs more than anything else. It's not saying I'll never love again, but I've lost the love of someone I never imagined I would.
