Queen B—yes, of course, I do remember you writing about this recently as you were thinking back over your M. I have read your threads piecemeal, but not from beginning to present yet. I’m sure I would find much to empathize and identify with there. I downloaded the book Splitting by Eddy and Kreger but have just not been in the mood to read it when I have so many other library books I need to get to (a new story collection sounds much more pleasurable!). There’s something about reading it that feels like a self-fulfilling prophecy right now. Maybe what’s eating at me is that I could be standing for a version of H that can’t exist again because it’s not a point H could return to? Or a version that didn’t exist even then in the way I thought it did? If indeed his identity is so slippery. I do accept and am on the path to making a life for myself without H. So much of this sifting and questioning is just part of grief, I suppose, and wishing I had something to quiet the grief, like a stable story of H to tuck away in my memory.
