after a year of misery last year. Instead it is to be a new start for me, in a house that will now be filled with sorrow and uncertainty for awhile, until I get used to the sound of my own breathing again, to enjoy the laying in bed on a Saturday morning and knowing I can nestle in and sleep if I need to, to read in bed, to savour the quiet, to rejuvenate my tired body. But Im not ready for it, I wanted me to be us, to enjoy the freedom of eight acres, a stream, making love in the afternoon with the curtains softly brushing our faces, to once again find us. Instead us is lost and we is me. The end of winter and the start of spring, September.