I was the only one she trusted with this message to you. She told me the essentials so do not worry too much about your reputation. Sorry for being so harsh from time to time but I cant help myself, I loved her and she loved you. I could still see it in her eyes as she lay next to the empty pill bottle; lifeless. I wish she were stronger than what she let define her, honestly look at you: degree in the making, good family, good money, good heart. Just wasn’t meant for her I guess, but why say you love her, but not listen to her ache and pains. She tried so hard to understand but we both know you could have tried harder. I still don’t understand why she said I should tell you about her pain in my own words.You were the reason she felt it was okay for her to be herself, because she found love in her weirdness. You were the heartbeat of her being, the muse behind her art. Then it was pretty roses and prolonged sunsets, you just had to go and ruin it. Why Mr, why? She emailed me the conversations you had, the one heart-sided conversations always replied by the usual busy tone, why not explain it why it was happening, like school was getting hectic and stuff, she just was not going to assume, you owed her that much. Excuse my crudeness, I am grief stricken. Why, because i had to bury myself yesterday, I had to watch them pile shovels of sand over and over again, like seriously, why? I just think you could have said more of the less you felt. She would have taken it better than the silent lies. To be honest I feel that you did hand her the rope she hung herself with.
I have a lot on my mind but i do not have a “civil” way of saying.
I hope you learn a bit more honesty for the next Mrs too-busy-to-feel.