Dear Sally,

If only I could just talk to you.

I see your face everywhere. At Zellers, where I got the knife; at Home Depot, where I got the rope; at Shoppers, where I got the pills.

They say you can't describe what love feels like, but I can. Love is pain, and misery. Love is not wanting to wake up in the morning because of the things you can't have. Love is the feeling of emptiness, just like life.

Your face would always make me smile, but now when I see it there is only a spark from the past. The past that isn't present. Love is a curse, that puts your face everywhere, and follows me through the day.

If only I could just talk to you.

If only you weren't dead.

But at least now I can follow you.

Love your widower,