Letters for Muscles
March 2
My Dearest Muscles,
Still no sign of you. I really hope you’re alright. I’m trying to hold the fort down back here. Everyone’s been glued to the telly for updates in case they mention you.
This has just been a week of extremes. I know you planned on going MIA in the first place, but under the circumstances, I just don’t know what to believe. It’s an inexplicable feeling, Muscles. Yesterday, I felt numb. Today, I woke up sobbing uncontrollably. Three stupid letters turned my world upside down.
Everyone keeps trying to act like they understand, but they can’t. After all this, I just need to hear your voice, babe. That’s the only thing that will ever tell me this is okay, but I know that phone call isn’t coming. I begged Chandler to go online and check, but you weren’t signed in. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just feel so much more alone now.
It’s so real now. This is real. This is war. The fact that I might lose my husband is becoming increasingly clear. I keep thinking the worst… it’s natural to do so, but I don’t want to think about it.
I was up all night last night. I had an eight hour panic attack. Just crying and shaking. I told everyone today I was sick. I didn’t really lie, but I told them all that I didn’t want to talk. I was dizzy, and my whole body ached.
Just before I wrote this, I was having a crying fit. I’m glad I can’t send these, now. I don’t need you worried about me. You’ve got enough to handle.
I hope, against all odds, I hear from you soon.
Yours Lovingly,
Blondie
Still no sign of you. I really hope you’re alright. I’m trying to hold the fort down back here. Everyone’s been glued to the telly for updates in case they mention you.
This has just been a week of extremes. I know you planned on going MIA in the first place, but under the circumstances, I just don’t know what to believe. It’s an inexplicable feeling, Muscles. Yesterday, I felt numb. Today, I woke up sobbing uncontrollably. Three stupid letters turned my world upside down.
Everyone keeps trying to act like they understand, but they can’t. After all this, I just need to hear your voice, babe. That’s the only thing that will ever tell me this is okay, but I know that phone call isn’t coming. I begged Chandler to go online and check, but you weren’t signed in. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just feel so much more alone now.
It’s so real now. This is real. This is war. The fact that I might lose my husband is becoming increasingly clear. I keep thinking the worst… it’s natural to do so, but I don’t want to think about it.
I was up all night last night. I had an eight hour panic attack. Just crying and shaking. I told everyone today I was sick. I didn’t really lie, but I told them all that I didn’t want to talk. I was dizzy, and my whole body ached.
Just before I wrote this, I was having a crying fit. I’m glad I can’t send these, now. I don’t need you worried about me. You’ve got enough to handle.
I hope, against all odds, I hear from you soon.
Yours Lovingly,
Blondie