It was obvious, from the start, that my poetic, writer-of-a-future-wife had placed notes for me. This was something she regularly did – though this time her thoughts seemed rushed, scribbled, as if she were just waiting for the horrid deed that she committed and the havoc that she now released onto my life.
I got on with her little game and I rushed down the long hallway, which seemed to grow longer with every step, and much darker too. The lights blinked on in the bathroom in a flash and in a flurried panic, I rushed over to the medicine cabinet and burst it off its hinges. Nothing but pills, opened bottles; she had taken many. Oh, right, bath tub, bath tub, I thought as I slammed down the loose medicine cabinet door and ripped back the shower curtain in a rush.
There was the second note in plain sight, this time more rushed and scratchier.
My time is running out, I know what I must do
My apologies for everything only go out to you.
Nobody was ever there for me throughout the worst
You know exactly what made me hurt.We bought the things together, expecting the best
Diapers, clothing, shoes, socks, all the rest.
Told our families a little early for my liking
I’m very sorry Stewart – we better start hiking.
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