Today, I bleed. In the space of a year, everything has changed.
When I think of a reset, I think of turning the wifi box off, furiously counting under my breath, and then switching it back on, hoping that the wifi will work this time around.
Grief is unpredictable. And seemingly timeless.
I wondered if it would be okay, me living alone. Waking up, cooking, watching TV. I was afraid I would be like that man from Up.
And here we are, with a whole life in plastic bags.