I don't know why yesterday was important. I know it was 22 months, but I have had practice at going through the 17th of each month. I've done it 22 times. Yesterday though, I cried. I cried in school, (no, not in front of the children) I cried through the afternoon when I was at home, supposedly doing prep, but actually drinking tea and crying, I cried last night, and I cried yesterday morning.
I wept silent tears of missing my best friend pain. He understood me, in a way no one ever has, and he said I understood him better than anyone. People who didn't know our history thought we'd been together for years and years, because we were so in tune.
I think watching Sixth Sense on Monday night had something to do with it though. That was a fabulous film, but the end, oh my, the end. I won't say why, in case you haven't seen it, but it seared through me. I cried like I hadn't for a long time. Noisy sobs, and thankfully J understands, and misses Rich too, but in a different way.
And then yesterday as well I had a lesson observation, which went fine, except I mispelled a word on the board, like a dimwit. DilemMa. Two M's. Doh.
Today is stretching out in front of me, unsullied as yet by tears. I think it'll stay that way. I hope. No, I don't hope, I insist. It *will* stay that way. There is too much to do!
And speaking of so much to do and say, I will have one last go at contacting I-t-B I think. And then the things that are here that he wanted will be redistributed to where they can do most good. I think that's fair. I have to work past his betrayal of us, and see it as the act of a desperate man, trying to do his best for everyone. His complete ignoring of us since is harder to work through, as that is not the act of a desperate man, and just looks like the act of someone who knows he was wrong in his behaviour, and justifies it by just not being around.
And so to work. And making cake. And writing.