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The coffee shop where we met is now a used clothing store, the original business having moved a few storefronts down. I went in to the shop to find something for san diego, as most of my clothes are suitable for barn-wear or arctic winters. Browsing for clothing to attend a widow conference in a store that used to house our meeting, our footsteps, our flirtations, our shared  newspapers and countless hours of tea and toast, hands held over the table - this was a very bad idea. I stood in the dressing room holding piles of ill-fitting clothes; just stood there and sobbed. Shit. This is just all - awful. Horrible. Wrong. So completely and horribly wrong.



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