Dear Alex, Living In-between.

Dear Alex,

I flick through the radio stations, French, not picking up due to the clouds covering the vast sky ahead, Classic, makes me feel too pensive, Radio 4, a topic I can't bear to listen about, nothing is fulfilling the need to drown out my mind noise on the way to see you.

Living in-between.

That's what this is.

The days I am good, I feel life is 'doable'; life is beautiful in a very different way. Then the days I plummet, When I can't bear to face it without you, soul crawling round beneath a weight of darkness shrouding it, grieving for my man.

I am learning to live this way now.

I won't see you for a few days, I am going to London.

I am honoured and so grateful to Hugo Southwell, retiring captain of the Wasps, as he is doing his Testimonial and Dinner in benefit of you. How generous, how wonderful, how much it will mean. But I will have to speak a bit, in front of 400 guests.

I am stepping out of my comfort zone, I am no longer any good in social events, even a neighbour's Barbecue with less than 10 people sent me off to the bathroom to breathe through a major panic attack.

I am no good without you by my side, and yet I keep having to face things without you, do things on my own, for you.

I would swop it all honey, all of it in a breath to have you back, to be sat on the sofa, cup of tea in hand in my pyjamas next to the old you…

Only I cannot be.

I won't ever be.

So it is moving forward with what we have, with who we are now.

Turning changed eyes to God, eyes filled with sadness, longing for hope and help.

And living in between.

The good days and the bad.


Me xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx