Its Lucinda’s birthday…

… and its been six months since I saw her.  Since months of lieing low and licking my wounds and there’s not a day when I haven’t thought about her and what happened, not a single day… but now I’m here… away from everything and everyone it doesn’t seem so real.  I used to wake up and it would hurt, really hurt, the terrible realisation that she had gone and that I was caught in some nightmarish state of inertia.

I couldn’t move, I was told not to move and I didn’t want to move, and it’s easier not moving… just staying here… just hiding.

But it was her birthday today, and what’s strange and what I hate is that there has been nothing, no communication, calls, letters to me… or to her… from anyone… not even to her Facebook page… when it happened, when she was taken from me, it was like everyone just knew not to contact her anymore… well other than a couple of posts on her wall… but no real messages… you see I’ve got access to her Facebook account.Lucinda

You know how it is with couples, how you can share everything in your lives, every tiny detail, every intimacy, fart, crap, weep and breakdown in front of each other – but you never share e-mails.  Never.  That would be… invasive… especially when you share your life 24 hours a days with someone.  No you wouldn’t do that.  Not with somone you know so well, you’re so in tune with you can guess their passwords!  Well you can after about 30 attempts… well you know the gardening/DJ business was doing so well and I was spending a lot of time at home… and your mind wanders…

So I’ve got access to her Facebook – this the link – drop me a line but I won’t reply… you see there’s nothing there… I mean no messages, not for the last six months… just a few posts on the wall from vague acquaintances but nothing that would suggest that she’s been missing six months.

I want to leave it that way, before I wanted to put up messages, contact all her friends, put up an appeal… but it feels like… like I want to preserve it.  It’s the only access I have to something that was hers, I left and I didn’t take anything that belong to her, that reminded me of her, that smelt of her…

So that site is like a little shrine and I want to leave it as it was – I go through her messages – all the trivial little arrangements… the details of her life and I can pretend… that she’s still there.

Travis wanted to look through, play the big investigator… draw connections and conclusions… but I wouldn’t let him.

In that realm she’s still with me.  She’s still mine.  She’s still telling me what to do.

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