On the edge of their matrimonial bed, the sad man sat confused, out of place, as if waiting for help, except he never brought himself into calling for it. He tried hard to read the note she left behind for him. He was trying to develop the courage to hear her reasons for doing what she did. He stopped looking at the note to wipe the tears in his eyes. It has been close to an hour since he came into the scene of the incident in their bedroom, alone, except for the remains of his wife lying cold on the bed. The neatly dressed bed suggests she went quietly, without much struggle.
“There are different kinds of love they say. Happy love, sad love; family love, friendly love; love love….But what they didn’t say is all love hurts.”
He read the note, drawing deep breaths and had one of…
View original post 355 more words