It arrived yesterday morning, addressed to us both. I picked it up and threw it on the desk hoping to forget about it, until I was ready, if I ever would be.
I picked it up and turned it over and round yesterday evening. There was no return address. Who couldn’t know by now? To someone he’s still alive, we’re still together. I put it back down.
This morning I couldn’t leave it any more. I picked it up and hastily tore it open.
“Dear Mark and Tony,
I am sure you have had the best of years as usual…..”
I threw it aside and broke down. Words sent in love causing so much pain. I wasn’t ready for it after all, but I needed to know who it was from. I checked who had signed the card at the end and wondered why they hadn’t got the emails and letter. I was angry and hurt, sorry and forgiving.
This afternoon I took a deep breath and read the rest. Their good news, their ‘wonderful year’ touched my every raw nerve. They had no idea. They wished us the best for the New Year. I cried.
Now I must write that letter again, the one that hurts so much, delivering the news I wish I had never heard.
“Dear…., Thank you …. but…”
Tomorrow I must brave the post office to mail the words I have written. Words I never wanted to write, never thought I’d ever have to share. Words that carry sadness.
Today I have had enough.