Dear John

Dear John;

Since you left, I’ve been lost.  It should have never ended the way it did.  My world seems flat and gray now.  I wake in the middle of the night sobbing your name.  Knowing what happened doesn’t make the pain go away.

I remember walking into the station.  The policeman’s face was somber and I knew something was wrong.  My heart faltered when I saw you lying there.  You looked so peaceful, like you were sleeping.  I went to shake you, to wake you, but the officer held me back.  It was at that point that I began to cry.  To be honest with you John, I haven’t stopped crying since that night, I’ve merely began to cry on the inside.  I remember looking at the pictures.  There was so much blood, and your gun was lying there.  What kind of cruel bastard guns down an officer with his own weapon?

I sometimes don’t believe it ever happened, and that you’ll walk through that door and smile wearily to me.  The taste of sorrow and disappointment is bitter in my mouth every time.  My love, I miss you, but it won’t long now.  There’s nothing left for me.  I have an empty house filled with the echo of you.  I can’t stand it anymore.  I’m done with this world, and now I’m coming to see you.  I pray you’ve waited for me John.  I’m on my way.

Faithfully coming to your side,
Jane

It was a cold April morning when her sister found her lying on the right of the bed.  His side.  Her left arm was extended onto the other side, as if not to dirty his side with her blood.  In her right hand she still held the long, sharp knife from the set John had given her last Christmas.  That was three weeks before John was killed.  The wedding ring on her left hand glinted in the morning light as her sister pried away her fingers to see what she held.  All her sister found was a folded, crumpled, and tear stained letter labeled “Dear John”…