Dear Diary

[annwfyn.livejournal.com]

Korsten is dead.

I haven't written that down before.

I don't think I knew how to.

Korsten is dead. The man I loved is dead.

I did love him.

I don't think he loved me. I know he had other women - a lot of them. I know he had a mate in the end. I know we argued. A lot. Korsten was the only person I ever really shouted at.

But I loved him.

And now he is dead.

That sort of overshadows everything. I try and think about other things - Beth, Johnny, Michèle - but it is difficult. There are moments when I am distracted - mopping up the blood on a drunken teenager's forehead, trying to not pass comment on the unborn Bale Hound messiah children, thinking about whether Heart of the Forest might eat the bale hound spirits who pester Michèle. But then it all comes back in this weird crashing wave of misery.

Korsten is dead, and I do not think anything can ever be the same again.