It has been long enough that I suspect I am writing, now, to myself, and perhaps to a few diligent search bots.  This is probably just as well, since I don’t quite know what it is I mean to say.  Still, here I am, on a bitterly cold night after a long week and an achingly sad goodbye.

I started this blog after the death of a relationship so it is no surprise that I would return to it after the passing of another.  It was different this time, which is to say that I was different, but there is still a space where someone I loved used to be.  Should friends come across this post: I’m okay, I hope that he is, and I am available for coffee.

The other spaces in my life, by contrast, are impossibly full, of twice-weekly lectures and bright, nervous students and the familiar parry and thrust of union meetings.  There is other work as well, which I lost faith in for a while but whose value teaching has reminded me of.  I had a feeling it would.

There is more, which will come when it comes but for now there is a waning moon, a glass of scotch, and peace.