Letters for Muscles
March 18
My Dearest Muscles,
I went to Chandler’s today. I heard on the telly that “the recently bereaved are at higher risk of dying within the first year…from heart failure.” That’s not really surprising.
The whole time Chandler was driving, I wished we’d get into an accident. We’d drive up the hill, and every car that seemed to pass, I wish it would veer off the road. I wish it would cross over the yellow lines and rail into us head-on.
With the image clearer than reality, I felt nothing. My heart rate never rose. I just continued sitting there. The line between life and death is so fine.
Why do I struggle so much with the fact that you aren’t coming home? I really just can’t move past it. One moment, I understand that sometimes this happens. People die. You aren’t coming back, and that’s that. The next, I wake up wondering where you are. I think that you’ll be home soon. I look for you everywhere, but I don’t find you.
I love you so much. Please don’t leave me like this. Don’t leave me here alone.
I’m such a head case. I had a melt-down when I came back and decided it was fine to stop playing superwoman. I somehow decided that becoming an alcoholic was a viable option for my future. Funny.
Thanks for listening. I know you love me, and I’ll love you forever.
XOXO,
Blondie
I went to Chandler’s today. I heard on the telly that “the recently bereaved are at higher risk of dying within the first year…from heart failure.” That’s not really surprising.
The whole time Chandler was driving, I wished we’d get into an accident. We’d drive up the hill, and every car that seemed to pass, I wish it would veer off the road. I wish it would cross over the yellow lines and rail into us head-on.
With the image clearer than reality, I felt nothing. My heart rate never rose. I just continued sitting there. The line between life and death is so fine.
Why do I struggle so much with the fact that you aren’t coming home? I really just can’t move past it. One moment, I understand that sometimes this happens. People die. You aren’t coming back, and that’s that. The next, I wake up wondering where you are. I think that you’ll be home soon. I look for you everywhere, but I don’t find you.
I love you so much. Please don’t leave me like this. Don’t leave me here alone.
I’m such a head case. I had a melt-down when I came back and decided it was fine to stop playing superwoman. I somehow decided that becoming an alcoholic was a viable option for my future. Funny.
Thanks for listening. I know you love me, and I’ll love you forever.
XOXO,
Blondie