CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Word Count: 393
Close your eyes and think about what you've been missing in your life lately. It could be a person, pet, place, thing, occasion, feeling. Anything at all that you miss dearly.
Happiness? No. Well, maybe. Ok, yes.
The lab? No.
Michelle? Yes. Definitely. Yes.
What do I miss dearly?
Happiness and Michelle. I’m not much for Christmas, the lab I do not dearly miss when I leave it, Scrappy was a stupid street wondering mutt dog, but those two things, I miss them.
I miss waking up to soft, smooth, warm skin that trembles with chuckles when I trace out letters on it.
I miss the smell of Michelle’s bacon. No other person cooks bacon as good as she did.
I miss feeling happy that I was married to such a wonderful woman, even though I shouted at her while we were at work.
I miss feeling happy that I had someone other than my aunt to love.
I miss her smile, her face, her body, her hair, her lips, her everything.
I miss her being there to actually use the things, some of which still lie around the house almost untouched. Like the perfume bottle in the bathroom cupboard or the picture of her family that hangs on the living room wall. Or her CDs, or her books.
I miss the happiness that Michelle gave me.
I miss Michelle who gave me happiness.
I miss feeling happy because of Michelle.
I miss Michelle who made me feel happy.
I miss Michelle and I miss happiness, you know, feeling happy. I miss those two things, both of them, dearly, because I can’t get them back. I can’t get her back, and because she made me feel so very happy, so very alive, I can’t get that back either. I have almost no one, and even if there are those who I could get close to, as a friend, or even as something of a lover, something which won’t ever happen I can’t, because I don’t want to, and because I don’t want to, I scare them away.
Without Michelle I am unhappy. I am unhappy without Michelle. With her I was happy. I was happy with her. It works in all these twisted words, phrases, opposites.
I miss my wife Michelle and the happiness that she gave me every single day of my bloody life. When I get shot at by a suspect, sometimes, I hope to die, because she was my one, my everything, and, without her, I’m broken.