Evening love. It’s only 10:20pm and I can barely keep my eyes open. Very unusual for me – I’m usually wide awake until midnight at least. It’s making my head hurt trying to keep my eyes open.
Yesterday, as I rummaged through a pile of clothes in our walk-in robe, I noticed your winter coat hanging at the end of the rail. You only got to wear it a couple of times, I think. It was too nice to wear just anywhere and the weather isn’t usually cold enough here to need a coat like that often. I put it on. Ridiculous really; it’s way, way too big for me. It’s a very nice coat though. I wish you were here to wear it.
It jingled as I put it on. I reached into the pocket and found $2.80 in coins plus a receipt. You last wore the coat the night before our 14th wedding anniversary in 2009. The receipt is from the restaurant you took me to for dinner to celebrate.
It was a lovely evening, cold enough for a winter coat. I can see you sitting across the table from me, leaning forward to reach across the white cloth and hold my hand. We had champagne. We were happy.
I love you. xxx
You're gone 