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Being by my side

Days left. Four exactly. Then the Judge will wield his hammer and change will be logged in legal documents. We will walk away in separate directions.

I have spent this last weekend looking at our little house. Cleaning and removing the bits of him that have remained unstirred in the last 6 months. A hollow emptiness with dust sculpting the hemispheres of the undisturbed. I have been waiting for him to blaze through here in his furious style. That will still happen, but at lease all his things are in one spot. Less obvious, boxed and organised, that was always what I did well, anticipate & prepare.

Somehow I wasn't prepared for him leaving, this time. But I was absent and had left a long time ago. I had summarised that I loved the painter and couldn't live with the man. It runs deeper that this. Deep as a gulch you could get lost and trapped in. Trapped for almost 13 years.. 13 unlucky for some. Not me.

My spirit was no longer free in his world. It had been denied and disregarded again and again. Conditioned from the first steps of our relationship, where our stride was once in beat. All of my freedom being frivolous and an 'Indulgence'. Interfering with his poetry and his ability to create.

My service is done. I bow and leave. I do not wish to cause pain, any pain, more pain. It is too late for questions. I don't care, I actually want to run for the hills with reckless momentum. For the isolation of a mountain is more comforting and accepting than being by his side.

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