I feel pretty stupid.
So I write all these things, pining with sorrow, missing him, wondering how he has been. I write these things, hoping he will read them and know what I think of him, what I dream for us, hoping he will read them and know that I do love him, forever. (I write much "nicer" than I can speak, my voice is raspy and ruined, and besides, I can't stand sentimental conversations -- the tone sticky and silly, like in an old movie.) I wrote hoping that when he needed comfort or reassurance, he could read what I wrote, whenever he wanted. I hoped that he would know I appreciate him, and all he was doing down there. I wanted him to know that I appreciate his suffering, as I assumed, he appreciated ours.
Then little events happened,meaningless on their on merit, but added together managed to create quite a hefty, expensive mess, i.e. Gift Giving Time, and now we are here and I am proved wrong in my thoughts. And my hopes seem sillier than any old sappy movie I have ever seen.
After arguing about money vs. debt, the same argument we've had for seventeen years, I received an email letter signed by him: "Best regards." He did not write "Love" or "I understand," or "don't worry." He did not write, "it'll be okay" or "I won't let you down." He did not write "have a little faith in me" nor did he tell me anymore of his so-called plan. No, those things I will never hear apparently.
But he did write "Stay in Touch" the sarcasm apparent, and of course, "Best regards."
I feel like such a fool. Such a stupid fool.
(Originally written Thursday, December 28, 2006)
