Me: I want to keep on talking with you during this week that I have dreaded since August began. Blogging our conversations is, I realise, a weird way of being publicly private and/or privately public and I am well aware of the paradox here but….
Anthony: You really do like to complicate things, Jules.
Me: No way! I would love to be able to simplify/compartmentalise/figure out the wild animal of this grief but I just cannot seem to get a handle on it.
Anthony: You know, when we first met and you were wearing a pink t-shirt, a long Indian skirt, sandals, and your amazing smile, something clicked but I didn’t know what it was.
Me: For me it was a textbook case of love at first sight. It didn’t matter that I thought you were the cowhand and didn’t realise for a few days that you were the actual patriarch so to speak. I was absolutely smitten and it was probably obvious – how embarrassing!
Anthony: I felt it too, Jules, but you were just a kid!
Me: You know that year before we got married where you got all lovey-dovey and admitted that you fell in love with me too way back when?
Anthony: Yes?
Me: Thanks for finally telling me that, because the unrequited thing was horrible. I guess you had already established a reputation for being the long-standing bachelor of our town and I think you rather liked this?
Anthony: Oh yeah, baby!
Me: We really do have a rather beautiful love story, don’t we.
Anthony: I haven’t even found anything comparable in Heaven.
Me: I yearn for you, Ants – it is like this long piece of string that I have to pull out of my throat every day. I know that sounds gross but that is exactly what it feels like to have lost you.
Anthony: Oh, Jules.
Me: I want you back, Ants.
jmgoyder 
Sympathy!