Tuesday evening, 15 March 2005 [9:00 p.m.]
Hey ya, dude. Nice sunset tonight – I could see if from the gym that is up on the second floor and the front of the building is all glass. The sun was fiery orange and after it set the sky glowed with the same intense colour you see in campfire embers.Today was very weird. I looked up at your photos above my desk at work and felt so empty. Today I found myself looking at that photo of you with the spring salmon that you got on the Kitimat. I love everything about that photo: the setting, the wet stones in the foreground that reflect the light, your waders, your purple jumper (sweater to you North Americans), the scissors ready to coax out the fishhook, your Sage hat, your calm look of happiness and pride. (Damn it to hell - I even love your fat fingers gripping the fish's tail!) I find myself wanting to be the person who took the photo and wondering who it was. You look so steady and at peace in that photo – did you know then what was to come?
I got to thinking about your wanting me to lead a positive life. Sometimes I’m not sure if I know what that means. I know when you’d press me about it I’d hold up my experiences of working in remote Alaska, of working on the Great Barrier Reef and the Gulf of Papua, my travels and my up and moving to Australia. I guess you felt that I was always living in the past and not the future – that I wasn’t forward-thinking. I dunno. Now I’ll never know.
The knowledge that you’re no longer in the world makes everything so very, very hard. And no package and no letters from anyone. Every morning when I wake up, I run to the PC to see if there’s an email from Don. When I get home from work I check the mailbox and on the front porch to see if the package has come. Then I rush in the door to check my Inbox again. Nothing, not a word. I am not sure how long I should wait to write Don again – I am afraid of pissing him off. I told him in the last letter that he could tell me to F-off if he wanted but he hasn’t even done that. I really don’t know what to think. I think everybody (you included) is trying to hide info from me and, ya know, it doesn’t sit very well. How do you think you’d feel if the situation was reversed, eh?
Honey, my heart is well and truly broken and no amount of looking at the stars or at your pictures is making things very much better. Time, I guess, is the only thing that is going to help. For now I just miss you heaps and am, at least, happy that you don’t have to put up with those awful symptoms you were having to deal with. There is that. There is at least that. Missing you –
- Susan
posted by Susan @ 10:41 pm
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