Ladyb

 Saskia died.

A month ago. I didn't know. 

Last night here in Auckland, after work, I turned it on a little.

The giant moon was low, the work was hard, and Old Me peered over the edges of exhaustion and I drank sake and ate sushi and I let myself Howl a Little and I didn't understand why. It was out of character these days, but I could feel the demon again and I let him have just a tiny, gasping breath.

Back in the hotel I couldn't sleep.

Reading about the world, Trawling, 3am Eternal. 

When I randomly came across her Obituary in The Age.

Saskia died.

It didn't say how. 

So much of this blog was hers, of her, for her, so many years ago. 

God it was Huge. 

That pain, that eclipse.

And now...now I don't know. 

She can't have died well and that makes me sad.

I don't know if she had any friends left and that makes me sad.

There was a time when she was everything and anything and my stomach would flip and my heart would crack.

There was a time when we would truly, truly be awful to each other.

There was a time when I had to let her go.

Another time I have to let her go.

I don't know, 

yet, 

if this will stay in the box,

but I imagine it will