April 29 1954,
I come to this bridge every night at 0200. My insomnia is still rampant and ongoing. Ever since you left, it has escalated.
I stand under the bright lights, staring into the black river below. The moon illuminates my landing zone. I want to jump.
I can’t seem to gain closure; you’re always on my mind. After being gone for so long, you waited. The only thing that kept me alive, was you. Writing in my journal to you was the only comfort I had in that hole they put me in.
Closing my eyes put me into your arms.
You would hold me close, comforting my wounds.
You would hold me tight, and drive away my ghosts.
A soft breeze comes by every morning after I arrive. Shortly after my thoughts begin to override my common sense.
Tonight, the wind is different. The wind is warm. Scented wind?
I remember your perfume like it never left my nose. When the bright lights flickered, I finally let go.
Thinking of you,