CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Word Count: 332
Write a letter to anyone about anything. Say what you have always wanted to say but have been afraid to.
The fourteenth? Really and truly, I do tired of this so. I do, I really, really, do.
Every day since you died I have missed you. Decade after decade, year after year, week after week, day after day, moment after moment. I am truthful when I say this, you were my everything, and in my heart, you still are. You see, that’s what draws the line between me and the current head of Nightshift, Grissom. I acted on my love, our love, and we got married, despite all the fuss from Day and Night. He, he has this beautiful woman, Sara, and she works with him every, single, bloody, day, and he does nothing. From what I’ve hear, not only does he do nothing, but when she tries to get closer to him, he pushes her away. Now, I am not the smartest man in the world, but I tell you this, he is stupid for doing that, he is stupid for ignoring her and pushing her away, because, I can tell, oh how I can tell, how close they want to be.
I haven’t met anyone else since you that I wanted to be with. I met this one woman recently, and she trapped me into a dancing competition, but she doesn’t want anything else from me, I’m sure. Nobody except Agatha and the few occasional people from work have been in my house since you died. I miss the company you gave me, the way you’d cook dinner and I’d come up behind you and surprise you with something silly, like a flower from the garden, or a piece of that chocolate cake you liked so much. I appreciated the way you ignored the faint bloodstain on the table in the kitchen, and the other one on the old couch. And it was, it was fun, you know, arguing at work and knowing, that, for the most part, we didn’t really mean it, that much.
I miss you.