It’s Monday night. After a long holiday weekend, and a single day of work, I’m off for a week. Sarah and I are traveling to Texas tomorrow, to meet with her friends and family and celebrate the memory of Drew, as they’ve done yearly since his death.
The loose ends are tied up at work. Our bags are packed and we’re into the impatient “waiting game” that comes before any longer trip getting started. I wish we could just leave right now. Visions of the beach, and lounging beside the pool seem like they’ll take forever to become reality.
Aaaaaand my chest is tight. I’m uncomfortably nervous and anxious. Something just feels...well…”off”.
This is not the first time I’ve sat down to write about this, but it’s the first time I feel ready to publish it because I’ve finally told my parents what happened. It’s not the easiest thing to write about – and I didn’t want them to find out about it by reading it here.Read more
Who put that there...?
...the bottle of brown sauce in the crockery cupboard?
Did I put it there... or did John?
I don't remember doing that... but I don't remember seeing John in the kitchen while I was cooking dinner, either.