I'm Sorry

Dear John,

 

I owe you an apology. I wasn't honest when I wrote to you Monday night. I wanted to be cheerful for you, so I forced it and tried to not let you know how I was feeling. And how I'm feeling is really really lousy.

 

I could never fool you, and I probably didn't fool you on Monday, either. There are things I'd so love to talk to you about if you were here. Since you aren't, all I can say is that I'm farther down than I've ever been before. I'm stressed, exhausted, discouraged, and broke. The worst thing is that I have no reason to expect that any of that to change. I look at the future and there is not one moment that looks bearable. The only thing I look forward to is death.

 

I did some yard work today - pruned the roses, planted petunias in the window boxes, and sprayed the weeds with vinegar. I took a nap after that, and then found a Dead Like Me marathon. You'd think it wouldn't be the best thing for me today, but it's been pretty good. There's a dark, sardonic humor to it that suits me now.

 

I'm so sorry I tried to hide something from you. I feel terrible about it. I've always been honest here, but Monday night I felt like I'd been down for so long that you'd be sick of hearing me whine. But I know that you love me and want to know how I feel, no matter what that involves. I'll try to do better.

 

And I know that you know me well enough to be able to handle my honesty without thinking that you need to fix things for me or launch an intervention of some sort. You know that I'll keep trudging on. You know that I know that whatever God sends is what is best. I trust Him. And from here on out, I'll trust you with the truth. It's all I have to give you now, and you deserve it. Please forgive me. And please pray for me. If you could come talk to me in a dream tonight, it would really help.

 

Love you with all my heart,

Joan.