CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Word Count: 1112
What is your worst quality as a significant other?
That I let my wife get raped and killed. That I wasn’t there for her when she needed me. I could have protected her, I could have hurt the man hurting her. I could have hurt him, and stopped him and subdued him and helped arrest him, and she would have been safe. The guilt that I feel everyday for not having been there when she needed me the most, is an impassable torment, but something which I hide very easily. I have been emotionally dead since before I was ten, in the years following Michelle’s death, it has been a very easy job to hide my pain from others who should not know anything more than I want them to see about my private life and my inner workings.
If anyone around you, that you love more than life itself, has died, then you will know the feeling of the notion that you are, indeed, unforgiveable for their death. While I couldn’t, really, have prevented my wife’s death, in so many words, this is not a reality that I can believe in truthfully. I would have gladly let myself come before her attacker, and suffer the multiple stabbings she endured, all by myself. I would have died for her, and, even though I may have left her behind to the same torment that I am now in, I still would have died in order to let her live. I don’t think anyone can quite understand that feeling of emotion unless they have so closely been in contact with the death of a loved one themselves. Even if someone was not murdered, losing someone that a person holds dear is still enough to let them try to understand the emotion that I feel. They may not entirely get it, but they will be able to try and get it, at the very least.
That is my point, though. I have become so good at hiding my emotions, my pain, from others, that they never see what is going on behind the facade I put up. This is why I am so successful at what I do. Most importantly, I am a hardworking public servant who plays the political side of things, and climbs the career ladder, but, in a latter relevance, I can also play people at an expert level. To the many people that I see in grieving, I am a blank slate. I am unspoiled by the horror, the sadness, that they are experiencing, yet, somehow, I seem to know the right words to say, the proper moments to act nicely, comfortingly, the right time at which to fetch them coffee and explain all the complicated things and matters with them. They don’t see my pain, so they don’t feel sorry for me, and on a different but related level, I never let myself, allow myself, to get attached to them.
However, despite all that I am able to hide, the fact that I let my wife die so horribly, the fact that I wasn’t there at a time where she needed me, and I could have been so useful, is something I will never be able to forgive myself for. This, and the fact that I wasn’t able to protect the woman who I romantically loved the most, and who was, in every which way, my other half, are, and always will be, the significant things that make up my worst quality as a significant other. My sheer ineptitude at being able to protect the woman I loved and held dear, was, and still is, my worst quality as her husband.
Forgiveness, of myself, to my own self, is something I will never be able to give to my mind. I will never be able to forgive myself for what I have done, but most, if not all people, will never know that. I protect my wife’s memory, in my own head, by being the man I was when she was alive. When Michelle was alive, I was strong minded, careful, and caring. While I may function differently now, I am still have a strong, well function mind, I am still careful in how I work, and act, and I care about what I do and the people that I deal with. While these people will never know my own pain, I am a public servant, and I must deal with them accordingly. You can not kick someone who has just lost someone they knew, and may have loved, out the door of the crime lab when you are finished with them. As a CSI, while I do not have to be overly caring, and while I do not need to become emotionally attached or involved with them, I still have to show that I care, I still have to show that I am capable and willing to help them during their time or grieving. In the end, while I may not care as much as I act like I do, it is still important to do so. Method and instruction of the people who taught me to be excellent in my profession, dictate it to be so.
In knowing, loving and marrying Michelle, I found an emotional release I had never found in the years since the death of my parents. In the years since Michelle’s death, in fact, at the very point at which I knew she was dead, I lost that freedom. I do not miss what I have lost, but I miss who I have lost, and deeply regret losing her and not being able to be there for her when she so desperately needed someone to prevent her from harm. Michelle, was my one and only true love, and I will, forever, until the day I die, miss her deeply and significantly. I will, however, continue, because that is what she would have wanted me to do, and that concept, in its entirety, is one of the only reasons I sometimes have for continuing to live. Michelle showed me hope, and as her significant other, I hope, that I can do for her and myself together, all the good work she would have done had she still been alive. It is what I have to do as her significant other, it is what I have done since her death, and what I will always do until the day, I myself, die. It is all, after all, that I can do, after not having been able to stop her murder. I will always, will forever, remember and love my wife Michelle, and nothing, no amount of my pain, or regret, can ever stop that, ever.