Solitary Refinement Chapter 23

vagabondprophet:

Dearest Elizabeth  March 20th 2018

I love you. I’ve been wanting to say that again for a while. I couldn’t wait any longer to write you, I tried. I just couldn’t do it. I needed to say it, but to be honest it’s never been as nerve wracking or scary to say that. For the first time in years I was worried that you might not actually feel that way about me anymore. In three short months I will have been here for a full year and I haven’t heard a single word from you, all I’ve gotten from you is my own parcels returned back to me.

Do you have any idea what this is doing to me? Do you remember right after we had started dating I had just got that lousy car? The one that was way louder than it should have been and had a key broken off in the drivers door so I always had to unlock your side first? I wanted to see what the gas gauge looked like when it actually went empty because it’s different in every car, sometimes above the red line sometimes below it remember like I told you? That one day I was driving you to work and I finally ran out of gas and I had forgotten to put some back up gas in the jerry can and you were late by thirty minutes.

I feel something like that car must have felt, like you’re just waiting to see how much of this torture I can take before I finally give up and die. I just want to hear from you. Could you do that, I need to know if you’re safe and alive and happy with the kids. It must be hard with the kids alone, but I promise you there’s no way it’s as bad as being alone without them. I am beyond confusion, like I understood that you would be mad at me that I wound up in prison because of my stupidity but that was nine months ago. No change in heart or missing waking up to me? Just tell me something simple, like how it’s a drag to have to take the garbage out yourself or something like that, I know you hated that. Or how you have to figure out how to make coffee for yourself. Just talk to me for goodness sake, I really need it, I need something to look forward to. If I knew I might be receiving letters from you it would make waking up above my awful cellmate a little less awful. I love you, but I’m kind of losing hope here. Don’t you want your children to speak to their father? I just don’t get it, help me understand.

Sincerely,

Your Husband.

A.N. This isn’t going to go on a whole lot longer. I hope people are enjoying it. Reviews would be lovely.