Thomas and Marilyn

It has been two months since his death. My sweet Thomas's death. This grief is overwhelming. Everything reminds me of him. The color green was his favorite on anything. He loved stargazing in the middle of the night. Even seeing his favorite candy in the store can bring me to tears. I miss him. Oh, I miss him it's unbearable. He was so veracious. Anytime we had an argument, he would always tell me his honest truth. He would also make sure that neither of us went to bed angry, even if our conflict wasn't resolved yet. He was never indolent. He put his whole heart into everything he did, especially his passions. In its incipience, our relationship seemed like it wouldn't last long, but the more we fell for each other, the more comprehensible it became that we were meant for each other. One high school and college graduation later we were married. For only a short three years would we be married though. It befogs me why it couldn't have lasted longer. After all, when two people are meant for each other they live happily ever after. So, where's my happy ending? My alarm distracts my thoughts away. My room is lonely, boring, and emotionless. It's all I have. If only Thomas were here. There's an upbeat tune playing. Where is that coming from? Oh, it's the phone in my room. Not a cellular phone, but rather one that just sits on my desk plugged into the wall. It's sitting on the table with the rounded corners. I click answer. "Marilyn?" I stay silent. It's my sister. "Marilyn are you there?" Yes, I'm here. "Yes." I reply. "I'm so glad! I've missed you! They wouldn't let me call you for your first two months there." "Oh." I say. Who is she talking about? Who would not let her call me? "How is it there?" There? Does she mean home? She is speaking strangely. "Fine." "Do you remember what happened yet?" she asks me. There is a hesitation in her voice. "Remember what?" I ask. Something must be wrong. "His death Marilyn." Of course I remember my husbands death. "Of course." She sighs a sigh of relief, but it might also be pain. "Do you feel bad about it?" "Of course I do, he's my husband and he died a sad, accidental death.""That's not what I mean Marilyn." she sighs again. What does she mean? "What made you go so far?" What did I do? I didn't do anything. "I didn't do anything." "You don't remember?" she pauses, "It's okay Mar, they say you should remember eventually." Remember what? "Okay." "I've got to go for now Marilyn. I'll talk to you later, okay?" "Okay." "I love you!" I don't respond. The phone clicks and the dial tone starts playing. As I put down the phone, someone enters my room. Who would be in my home? 'Marilyn?" a man's voice asks. I turn to him. He has a long, white coat on. "Do you feel like joining the others today?" I don't respond. "That's alright. You'll get there." He turns to leave but I stop him, "Did I do something?" He hesitates, "Yes Marilyn, you did something." I stare blankly at hime for a few moments. "What did I do?" He considers the question and takes a seat on my table. "You remember your husband, correct?" I nod. "You also know that he has passed away?" I nod. "Do you remember how he died?" I think about it. Thomas died from a drunk driver. "A drunk driver." He shakes his head. "That's okay. You may not have memories from the event." What? "You killed him, Marilyn. You felt like you had no way out. You brain is blocking out the memories of it." No way out of what? I didn't want to get out of anything. "He abused you. He hit you and controlled you." What? No. He would never. "Marilyn, we think your brain is creating new memories to cope. From what we can gather, you believe you've been imagining a new life." He doesn't know what he's talking about. Thomas loved me and I loved him. He would never hurt me and I never him. "Breakfast will be here in 10 minutes." He gets up and leaves. I don't believe him. Why was he in my house anyway? So, as I was thinking, my dear Thomas was lovely...