Today marks the one year anniversary of Philip Horvitz’s death. For those of you who have started reading this journal recently, Philip was the man that I spent eleven years of my life with, from 1990 until 2002. We parted with difficulty but ultimately amicably.
The past year has been one I would never want to relive. And over the past couple of days I’ve felt myself snapping in and out of focus. I don’t know how today will go. My emotions feel big, looming in the room, and I hesitate to probe them, like they are a sack that could burst and leave me swamped and immobile.
I miss you Phil And I wish you could pick up the phone and tell me about where you are. I hope they have good tubs.