7. The Sound of Rain

3/08/08 3:51 PM

First, the "pit-pat" of the first few drops. Then, as the mist forms and the rain pick ups, the "pit-pats" run closer together and form a sort of "datatatadatatada". But then it forms a fine "hisssssss" as the mist shrouds the sky and the trees and the street. The tires make a "fwwiiiiiish-splash" as the cars make their way down 6th Avenue. But always the hissssss.

All is grey. The future is blocked by the mist. One day at a time. I hated that show. I thought Schneider was funny, though. One day at a time. No dreams. No hopes. Just be home by 3.

Music is meaningless. Music is painful. To see others in love burns my eyes. To see others with newborns tears my soul. To watch others hold hands makes my fingers ache and fall off. To see them kiss...

Everything means nothing. My life is over. I live only for the boys. I am dead already. Be home by 3. Don't dream, don't hope. Their lives begin. Mine is ended.

I can hear the fine hisssss of the rain. And I am so very goddamn motherfuckin' lonely. I miss her and love her forever.

May you never know the anguish I know. Nobody should know this.



3/13/08 10:22 PM

I want to thank you all.

Especially the Lawrinson Crew. I think God had me go to that reunion for a reason. If it had not been for your support, material, spiritual, emotional, I don't know how (or if) I could get through this. 3 months. Feels like 3 minutes. I hope the next reunion is in Boston. I would love for you to see both my boys. I truly regret not bringing Debbie to June's house for the first reunion. We both thought at the time that it would be best for Ramiro. I could not have been more wrong. I've been wrong about a lot of things.

I hope and pray to one day love again. She would have wanted that for me. Let me tell you something about this wonderful selfless woman. Shortly after Ramiro was born, Debbie was taking birth control shots. I was concerned with all those chemicals in her system. I told her I would get a vasectomy; 2 kids was enough. She said "absolutely not!" I asked why. She said "If something happens to me, I want you to get remarried, and that woman might want a child by you." "Deb, what woman would have me?" She said "I chose you!"

Who else would say that? I told her "the day you die is the day I die." It sure feels like it.

The boys are well. Doing good in school.

Thank you all again. God bless you. Keep us in your prayers.

I hope to live again. I hope to laugh again. I hope to love again.



3/14/08 3:42 PM

I am where I was; in agony. It hurts to smile. Can't even try. Panic attacks. Endless crying. And I mean serious bawling and weeping. Wishing I was dead, not her. Can't eat. Need work. Need money. Clean house. Wash clothes. Don't forget to bathe. Dammit to fucking hell I want my wife! I want A wife. I have no vision. I only see my slow march to death. I am smothered by thoughts I want to share. We had an active sex life; now I am suddenly celibate after 22 years. I hate myself. I am dead inside. She was the only one foolish enough to have me. Look at me. What woman would have me? I have nothing but my love to give. Love, devotion, caring. These things have no value for most women. No one would ever choose me. It's over.