Hi there, monkeys. Yeah, it's been a while. I'm mostly writing at BrachiatingBaby now, but I still think about the Fulcrum a lot.

I went to a wedding this past weekend. Actually, I was the matron of honor, but thankfully that was never actually put in print. Matron sounds rather dowdy and a little dull. I think maid may have been more appropriate, not because I'm so svelte and exciting I deny the Matron tag, but because I did a fair bit of cleaning and toting things about. I was certainly honored to play the role, tho, and i think I did it admirably.

Weddings have been an emotional challenge, obviously. I miss Karl all the time, but particularly when everything around me is all about marriage. I feel the empty spot at my side heavily. It's so strange that before I lost Karl, I hardly had attended a wedding that I wasn't working, and since he died I've been to so many. He should have attended every one with me, and the unfairness of it manifests in a throbbing that's like dizziness in my chest.

Saturday's blue sky and warm breeze couldn't have been more beautiful if we'd ordered them. I stood on the beach beside my dear friend, and smiled with real joy watching her marry a man I believe is worthy of her. Her sister, who also stood with her, is expecting her first child in July. Standing between them, enveloped by such hope and happiness, I dared to wish for all things, and to believe in the possibility of another chance.

It's such a strange state to exist in - this half life, double life - whatever life it is I'm living. I was joined, and unjoined, and split in between. Part of me lives for him, part of him lives in me, but that doesn't exclude me from being whole in myself.

There's just this feeling in my head, or my heart, or my soul - wherever feelings come from. I used to have it all figured out, you know, and now I barely believe that dreams and reality aren't mixed up, and my waking self is really the dreamer... but the feeling I have, no matter where it comes from, it's warm. It's hopeful. I believe the promise it whispers, especially when I feel it's fingertips brushing the world, bringing to life so many dreams - weddings, babies, dances, kisses...

I dreamed of laying in a field, looking up through branches both frosted white and budding green, leaves fluttering, filtering sunshine. If only I could paint, surely I could make it understood.

The promise is made, the universe knows.