To My Late Wife On the Occasion of Our Fifth Wedding Anniversary

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Angel on Earth — A picture of the most beautiful girl in the world from New Year;s Eve 1999.

Sweetest beloved,

I miss you so much everyday but then there are the “special” days. They used to be special because they held extra meaning for me, for us as a couple. They weren’t all good or joyous or even happy but each was important in some way to both of us and our lives together. I hate that I find myself saying this but I wish there were less of them. Now they are special only because of the dread I feel as each approaches, the hollow feeling in my gut that seems to get bigger and emptier, and the missing parts of my heart and my soul that feel even more lost, even further away.

Today is one of those special days. Our wedding anniversary. It would have only been our fifth but would have marked close to 21 years of us together as a couple, at least mostly together. This one hurts me so bad baby and not only for the reasons it should. I think you said it first but you were so right and I was already thinking it. We never should have gotten married. It ruined us in so many ways.

Why did we get married? Because of me, because of my stupid weakness and self doubt, self hatred, and fear of letting everybody down, of being different. I talked a big game about society and all those squares and their 9–5 jobs and kids and family vacations and how lame I thought it all was. Inside though I really wanted that because I thought that if I had, if we had that, then everyone else would be happy. Only when the entire rest of the world was satisfied that we had become fully integrated normal citizens of the world,would they leave us alone, stop questioning our every decision. Everyone would stop looking at me funny, talking about how ugly I was behind my back, questioning my worth, my position in life, everything. And who you ask were these people so fixated on me as to waste their precious little time on earth worrying about what I was doing with my life. Of course there weren’t any people, there was only myself, me saying those things about me, me putting myself down, me questioning my every decision. I ruined my own life and then yours and for what reason? I think I was broken, am still broken, mentally defective. It is not possible that other people think the things that I do and then just go about their lives like everything is normal, like everything is fine.

You insisted that we get married on a Friday the 13th because you knew for a fact I would have little chance of remembering any other day. You always knew me so well, so much better than I ever have or ever will know myself. And yet you still loved me. I never, ever, questioned that love even in the worst of times for us. You know how bad those times were so you know what it means for me to say that. If you could just tell me how you managed that.Please baby tell me how. How could you love me like you did. It is something I have never been able to do. I lost you, my angel, the light of life, the thing for which I got out of bed every single day, because I couldn’t love myself and I never will.

My heart still aches for you each and every day

You are still the first thing I think about every morning and the last I think about every night

You are still my wife

You are still my best friend

You are still my lover

You are still the only person who can quiet the raging storm in my mind

I still cry every day at least once from the pain of your absence



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