Thursday, March 3rd

You will be cremated soon. I hadn't known you would be, at first, no one did. But the plans had to change, so now you will too, your body. I'm having another hard time with this, with letting go of your self, your known and physical self. It was enough to see it non-moving. It was enough to make myself let go of all the ideas that there had been a mistake and you'd wake up any minute. You can't wake up when you are ashes.

And to know that your body is no where, anywhere, no where on this earth. I loved your body. I knew it. It helped me know myself, more than any body before. I knew the crease in your neck and the lay of your hair and the feel of your hand holding mine. Your feet were soft and you didn't sweat. Your mouth was wonderful on mine; you opened me up and yet made me feel at home. The way your wrist moved to gesture to me made me quake.

I feel like part of me is going to be burned. I also feel like I'm supposed to learn this. For the first time in my life I have some vision of how I would feel if I knew I was going to die, how I would ever find peace with that. You died. It would be a little like that.

10:46. I hope you're happy. I felt strain about you Tuesday. Today I haven't. I hope that's a good thing.