My understanding of self was thoroughly defined and enriched with Bette in my life.

Without Bette it seems I am a senseless amalgam of atoms.

At home I stare into space for fear something will catch my eye.

Every time I drive through our neighborhood, without fail, the various sights catch in my throat and I’m reduced to tears.

Any thought of self is overshadowed by loss.

I have to admit the absence of my identity sits well with me.

Grief can have it all.