I lost that necklace you gave me a few weeks ago. No... I wasn't going to tell you, but I guess it would've come up eventually. I took it off when I took the kids to the community pool and I zipped it in my wallet but it must've slipped, disappeared, vanished... something. Cause when I went to look it was gone.

Ya know it's not like I didn't try to find it though; I called the head of the community pool, asked the kids to help me look.. nothing helped. Retraced my steps, looked around, still nothing.

So I've been thinking.

Maybe it's a sign.

For the past few weeks, things have felt... different. Almost like I'm feeling a little lost myself. You gave me that necklace as a token of your love and now that it's gone, well, I feel like our love might be too.

Ya know it's not like I didn't try to fix it though; I talked to friends, asked the kids if they noticed.. nothing would help. I retraced my steps, too, scouring over all of the reasons I loved you before, all of the reasons we had to stay together, still nothing.

So I guess I should tell you I lost the necklace you gave me a few weeks ago. And...with it, I guess I lost my reason to stay. So, I'll pack my things and...I'm sorry I lost it.

I'm sorry I lost us.

She asks me why I take such long showers.

Sarcastically, I tell her I enjoy wasting water.

I do not tell her that the real reason is that I love wasting my time and energy on anything other than the thought of the distance that is forming between her and me and him and her. The distance that is forming while love is not.

I do not tell her that I let the water cleanse me of not only the dirt from the day but the dirt that has tried so hard to soil my happiness.

I will not let it.

I let the rain from the faucet pour on and around me until the steam has blocked out any other thought of pain.

I let let the scent of rosemary and lavender shampoo distract me from the scent of salt from the tears on my pillow.

I let the warmth of the room soothe me from the tension built up from that day. The tension from the wedding rings left on the table instead of the fingers of two beings who used to be in love. The tension from the slamming doors that seems to vibrate through the house and through my bones. The tension of my muscles that try to absorb the shock of the vibrations and the shock of reality.

I don’t take long showers to waste water.

I take long showers so I can forget.

So I can imagine what it’d be like if the water filled my lungs and let me pause for a while.

So I can relax and release and relive happy memories before the flood of sadness filled all the rooms in this house that once was a home.

I take long showers to feel again.

     So here I am.  Sitting on our bed, just me alone, not knowing where you'll be tonight or when I should expect you crawling into bed beside me.  There is no reason to call you and ask, considering I trust you.  But here I am, nonetheless, trying to make sense of the situation.  I'm trying to make sense of the lack of love that seems to fill the space between us.

     You told me the other day, while we were in the middle of an argument, that I would find someone better.  The thing is, I tried for so many years to find someone better.  Someone who didn't cloud my head to the point where I couldn't concentrate any time I sat down to get my work done.  Now, those clouds have turned to condensation and every night, when I try to get work done, precipitation falls on my laptop keyboard.  I'm surprised my computer hasn't shut down from water damage.

     Anyway.  I didn't actually want to send this letter to your P.O. box at work; I was hoping you would wake up this morning and feel the spark again when you saw me sleeping next to you with the messy hair and morning breath you used to love.  I was hoping that when I poured your coffee and set your breakfast down on the table like I always used to, the "thank you" and the smile wouldn't seem so forced.  

     This morning, I set your breakfast in front of you and you didn't look up from your emails.  You didn't say thank you and you didn't smile.  This morning I thought I'd try to be especially nice and start your shower so it would be hot by the time you were done with your bagel, but you didn't notice and left for work soon after getting dressed.  You didn't say I love you.  I respect you, but whatever you're so very upset at, I want to know.  If you've been having a bad week at work and aren't looking forward to another day at the office, just tell me.  If you're feeling under the weather and don't necessarily have the energy to be happy, just tell me.  If you just need some space...dammit, will you please just tell me?  I will give you space if that's what it takes.

    Anyway...have a good day at the office, baby.  Have fun tonight.  I'll always be here.

                                                                        Love always,

                                                                             Lauren

You told me

we would stay close.

We would live our lives together

and nothing would change.

You told me

that my thoughts wouldn't change our connection.

And then you lied.

You lied when I asked what was wrong.

"Nothing."

Nothing was all I got for a while.

Nothing on my phone.

Nothing on your mind.

You lied when you said it was okay.

You are a liar.

And I am lost.

I'm lost without our friendship 

and your thoughts

and your encouragement

and everything I used to look forward to.

I'm lost without the light in your eyes 

telling me everything will be okay.

It isn't and it never will be.

Because you lied.

And then, finally.

Oh, finally, I told you that I was done.

You didn't mind.  

You did not.

It filled my mind and I have never felt more pain.

I trusted you and you lied.

You told me.

And you lied.