I am so sorry to have left abruptly, and after many months I finally decided to write, although I’m sure you’ve come up with a few ideas, few if not all of them depicting me as a selfish, disloyal partner.

I don’t know where in the course of our marriage I began to have doubts, the recent years feel to me like a decision that I never made, for reasons I can’t fathom. I don’t know which one of us began to change first, but either way things between us have not been good for a while.

I can’t talk to you the way I normally do, and when I do find the courage to say things I feel I should, something else tells me not to bother. I’m the loneliest person I know, and I’ll forever be grateful to you for having accepted this empty shell of a person, but around you now I feel something in me diminishing slowly.

I can feel death’s tongue lick my soul, my whole body is one eye forced open, to see the nothingness I’ve made for myself in all its naked, mocking form. I used to have things I cared about, things that made me happy, now all I own are just shadows, who yearn to leave their home. The friends I let slip away, the life I could’ve lead, but the thing that kills me, is how the man I share a home with, sees me every day and bids me nightly with a cold kiss, has forgotten me.

A solitude shared gives it a prolonged life, the nights I had all to myself when you were away began to feel like a privellege, to be alone on our bed and weep endlessly until morning came and chores called to be done, it was release, to feel a pain that I alone could savour.

I write words to sooth the miserable, who I doubt can see past their own sadness, we’re all stuck in one melancholic state, eternally separate. The world is  ours to claim my dear, you and I are both noone, but together we face the threat of becoming nothing.

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