There are so many people I miss, especially my wife, and the very exciting things we used to do together.
Sometimes I am sorrowfully speechless at the thought of them, and often drowning in a pool of private tears over the loss of my one true love. She looks past me as if to see through me as anything and everything deserves her attention more than I do.
However hard I try to pretend it isn’t there, a gnawing heartache lingers through the day from the hours of crushing melancholy in the night, seeping into the tone of my voice, fading the vivid colors of the world to a drabby gray.
Even in laughter, I have to fight the dark clouds that threaten to cast a shadow in my expressions. Can’t pull a rabbit out of the hat anymore. No more escape tricks. I am, fresh out of hope, physically exhausted, emotionally defeated to my core.
It is a very lonely place where all the doors have been shut and bolted from the outside, and the four baren dingy walls that fill my vision in the dimming landscape of life are a stinging reminder of my failures as a father and the inability to measure up as a good husband.
That hour is here, I knew it would come. I’m off, to a better place.