It had to happen...

There were a few things about my late husband (God rest his soul) that I could always count on.

1. Every situation would be picked apart and analyzed until there was nothing left.
2. NOTHING gets written in one go... there are always drafts.
3. a whole bunch of other stuff

Today I found a letter he wrote to his cousin. It was short and sweet and I got her address so I can mail it to her.

I found rough drafts of the suicide note. There were two. He even practiced making the sign he put on the kitchen door telling me to go get my neighbor. I'm confused at why it kind of upset me to see it. I guess it made me wonder how long he'd been planning, I don't know. It was just weird. It's days like these that make me wish it would all just disappear. I'd give up everything there just to not have to see any of it again. I feel like some people might think I'm a bad person for not wanting to read every scrap of paper. But I just want to make sure I'm not throwing away anything important. I just want to have it all over with, but not do it myself. That's the impossible part.

It could be worse.

It could be a lot worse, I could have been more than just bothered by it. I didn't freak out or anything. It was just weird.

:)