And it begins....it’s never going to feel ok babe. Never. I’m caught on this conveyor belt, going round and round. Year in. Year out. Like a single uncollected suitcase on the carousel. Three years is looming. THREE years. How the fuck has that happened? because I don’t feel like It’s been three years. I just know I wake up feeling the same horribleness every morning and somehow I get through each day. Without seeing you. Your beautiful face. Without hearing your voice. The little Oxfordshire twang. I miss you so so much pie. And man, do I need you. I think back on everything you and I went through together. 22 years of loving somebody in a way I never thought possible. I know we had tough, tough times but that closeness we had can never be replicated. And I think about where we had got to, the conversations we had, the depth and exploration, open and honest, funny and curious.... And I think about now, how amazing we would be together now, the conversations we’d be having, the experiences, you and jay... I wish you’d come home pie. I just want you to come home. I don’t want to do another day without you. I love you my beautiful angelface, more than all the stars in the universe. To the moon and back, forever xxxxxxx