I thought I knew everything there was to know. I thought it would be a relatively easy shift; I never expected so many complications. How do you manage to keep her? I can't hold her gaze for thirty seconds but I see you darting around inside her molten eyes. She sees nothing but you.
She's never going to move on. She refuses to believe you're gone, refuses to acknowledge the reality. I can't fault her there, it certainly isn't an easy blow to shrug off. I used to think you were indestructable.
But then, I made that mistake with father, too.
I can hardly believe it's been six months since the letter came. They had to have found your body, right? They wouldn't send a letter like that unless they knew without a doubt, would they?
She must be dellusional. Sometimes she says she can feel you, that sometimes she feels a second heartbeat in her ribs. I can't ever detect it when I take her pulse, but she insists it's there. Sometimes I think she sees you when she looks at me. At one time, I would have thought that would benefit me; instead it just hurts.
I feel like I'm losing her a little more every day. There's always a battle to be fought, always some demon breaking down her doors.
How did you do this every day? I wake up exhausted, I go to bed worse. Every time I think of her I feel drained. I guess we were entirely different, after all. I can't take her, I'm not strong enough to pull her through.
I'm not you.