I’m trying not to be upset with myself for how hard this year is. It’s my first year without Noah. It’s a year of realising over and over that my relationship with Noah is now a fossil. It’s going to be remembered for the impact it had but it is gone. I had the best marriage I can imagine me getting to have.

It’s really hard how much I miss him. I feel so much guilt because I had so many hours I chose solitude over time with him. I was planning around a much longer marathon. I was trying to balance my needs. I should have sprinted more while I could. Someday I will have to forgive myself for this but I’m not ready yet. It’s ok to not be ready yet.

I hear his voice in my mind all the time. I see his ghost all over the house. I think in sentences that are shaped by how he prefers to receive information. Everything about me will be different for the rest of my life. I can’t go back to the day before him. I will never be in that place ever again. I will never again be expendable.

I keep trying to think about the future but it gets hazy and confused. I feel like my soul is trying to curl around him. How can I have a future without my beautiful man? I’m really glad we knew how lucky we were. I’m grateful that I can remember us sobbing and clinging to each other because we were both so overcome by the love we were able to receive from the other. I made Noah feel love.

Noah died with words of love on his lips. Well no. His last words were “Help me.” But the hours before that were euphoric. We took the day to hide and cuddle and recoup because that was our happy place. We were together in bed. There wasn’t much we liked more than that. He spent his last few hours talking about our commitment to one another. How lucky we were. How much we both appreciated this feeling of certainty: we were loved. Us. Even though we were both shitty. I didn’t have to be perfect to be good enough for him.

I’m really sad. I’m struggling to find patience. I’m getting the basics done but it is a lot harder to be fun. I’m trying. Shortie needs it.

I feel the approach of autumn in the air. It’s cold more often. The drops are harsher. For me, this is the start of the year still. I started teaching 24 years ago while I was still in college. It was a small class, I think six students? They were all returning to college after a big break. They said I made college seem a lot less scary and they were glad for my help. I helped them see that they already know how to express themselves; they just needed help with formatting.

As a witch the new year starts in November after Samhain. Tax things think the year starts in January in one country and April for the other. (For the two I deal with. I am not speaking for all countries.)

For me I hit high gear in September. It’s time to look ahead and plan what to learn for the next year. How will these learning goals be accomplished? How will progress and knowledge be measured? I haven’t given a test or assigned a grade in 17 years. Learning in the real world works differently. I feel so much more responsibility on my shoulders. There were a lot of subjects that I waved off to Noah. Now it is only me. I feel like I have no idea what I can promise being able to handle for the next year. I suspect that the first 18 months will be a haze of survival mode.

I am barely holding on to reality beyond the doors of my house. I am so grateful I have the support to do this. I feel like I have been gifted a cocoon. I know how bad and hard things could be for me right now. I can’t imagine going through this without my in-laws. That is a weird thing. I am not doing a great job with administrative work. There is so much. I don’t know how people do this and work full time jobs while raising young children. I should probably go talk to the widows more, again. I’m struggling. I lack a rudder.

I can feel my soul yearning for Noah. My fingers reach for him in my sleep and I wake up to cry over and over.

I had a happily ever after. I held a supernova. Letting go hurts. My soul hurts so much. The chunk of my heart that he held has now crystalised into a fossil remnant. It feels like a brand. It is so painful.

Something that I wonder about a lot lately, is the light in California really as golden as I remember? I remember even the most pallid of goths from my past in terms of golden light bouncing off their skin. Some people are more shiny. Noah glowed in the most tepid of early morning light, let alone when the sun was high in the sky. In the sunset he looked like a torch of light. It is different here. The light is cool and clear. Colours jump out in very vivid ways, because the light is so clear you can see a bigger range. In California everything is vaguely sepia all the time.

The final third of my marriage was the most peaceful. I’m glad I got to have that. I don’t think it would have been possible if we had stayed in the baking sun. We wouldn’t have slowed down and spent all that time together. I’m glad I picked him. I’m glad that he picked me. My biggest complaint about my marriage is that I only got 18 years. That is not so bad as complaints go.

I intend to go have a future I feel like that about. I will make it good. I need it to be good. So I will find a way or make a way. I have to. I have babies who need me to find a way forward. I will. I will go forward. I didn’t want to do this without Noah. Oh well. No one gets everything they want.

When I think about what I got to have the weight of it settles my nervous system. Someone gave me his whole life. He took care of me to the best of his considerable ability. He learned how to take care of me with me and he provided consistency when I struggled. He was my keeper.

I am sad. I knew I was living the best days of my life. At least we knew it.