My Dearest Darling,
Tomorrow is Valentine's Day and will be, or would have been, our 65th Wedding Anniversary. Every year at this time of year, I reminisce about the 51 wonderful years we had together. (Rather, 51 wonderful years we would have had together if I had not caught you sleeping with that
slut woman! And right under my nose, you dog!). And, every year, at this time of year, I write you a letter. Tomorrow, I will place this letter with all the other letters, with your remains.
Remember darling how much in love we were when we got married? (Yes, I know daddy told you
to marry me or else he would give you a job at the car lot?). But you told me you loved me and I certainly loved you because I was pregnant. (Don't you remember telling me that if I loved you I would sleep with oh, nevermind).
Oh that wonderful day when little John was born. He was such a beautiful baby. (Yes, I know you said he looked just like
Frankie, your best friend you). And he was such a good little boy. (Except for the time he peed all over your shoes in the closet and set your pants on fire). But you took it well (after you screamed at him you were going to KILL punish him).
Next came our little girl, Cheryl and another little boy, Charles. You loved being their father and would give them piggy back rides (after I stole your car keys so you couldn't leave).
Now the kids have all grown up and moved away. I know you said you
wouldn't would miss them. I miss them too. They still don't know you have passed away. I lied to told them you ran off with that slut other woman and I haven't seen hide nor hair of you.
Little do they know you are just a
worthless bag of bones in the attic along with a bunch of hateful loving letters.