"Tell me all about your foreign wars, and all about the
photographs that line your drawers, 'cause I know a lot about closing doors,
but not enough about what opens up yours..." -Andrew Belle
I suppose you wouldn't like that I don't open up much. Some symptom
of trauma, you'd say. And you'd probably be right. But I still don't want to
believe it. You've always known me far too well to believe even for a moment
I'd accept something like that. I looked through your photographs again today.
I know I shouldn't see some of those things again. I know what you'd say. But I
missed you. I always miss you. And they may be the only thing I can have from
you soon. There's talk of putting me in some home. They say the therapy isn't
working well enough that I need to socialize more. They say I'm retreating into
myself, getting depressed, relapsing. But I know they just want the house. They
want the money. I'm no invalid. They talk about me like I'm not standing in the
kitchen right next to them. I may not speak, but that doesn't mean I can't
listen. I'm a human too. God, I miss you, Jeanne. The things you would say if
you were here, if you could see those greedy little ingrates staring me down
and hoping each bite, each breath, each beat of my heart is my last.....
Those photographs in your desk. There's one of
the two of us after I proposed. You look so happy. That's how I remember you
now. You're that beautiful, joy-filled young lady who snatched my heart away. I
like that image better than the one etched into the background of my mind....
all those months at the hospital, trying to hide your pain... You were still so
beautiful. You told me you'd lived a full life, that you weren't afraid to go,
that we'd grown old together the way we always wanted to. I should be content
with that. But it seems I'm more selfish than you. I never wanted you to leave.
I wanted to keep you for myself...
I wonder sometimes why you keep all those
photographs mixed up together. Ones of us on top of ones of battle fields on
top of ones of our children on top of ones of the piles of corpses I built and
burned... A soldier and a photographer. Who'd ever have guessed? Aside from my
platoon, I mean. And probably the rest of the military, too. My men saw the way
I looked at you, the way we talked when we could. I've told you before it was
one of my men who convinced me to ask you on a date after we were both home,
between the wars. I almost didn't. You were far too beautiful to ever say yes
to me. But you did. Thank my lucky stars, you did.And then, some time years
down the line, I found myself married to an angel, living a normal life,
anchored to the ground by my beautiful love. It's gotten worse now that you're
gone, you know. The nightmares. The visions in broad daylight again. All it
takes is a loud noise and then... well, one day soon I may follow in your
footsteps.
Do you know how incredible it would be to be next
to you again? I think that's what keeps me believing in an afterlife, believing
that you can still read my letters. Just to be next to you again, my angel. To
be with you.
I have therapy again in an hour, but I wanted to
write to you first. They're making me go nearly every day now instead of twice
a week. Not Sundays-- they're still closed on Sundays-- and Saturdays are only
for high risk and emergency patients. I suspect I may get one of those slots
soon too if our kids have anything to say about it. Always acting like they
know what's best... But don't you worry, my love. I'll be alright. Always have
been, always will be. You're the love of my life, Jeanne. There's no one out
there like you. Believe me, I've been close enough to all the edges of the
world to see it. You were an angel among men and now... well at least now I
know you're where you belong. With all the other saints and angels. With all
the other stars. I'll leave your letter in the back of your drawer with the
others. Tied up with twine like back in our army days. Try not to look at the
war photographs when you get this. I'll leave the ones of us on top.
Always, Forever, and
with all of my love,
Your Husband
