22 April 2012
PART ONE
I remember my wedding day. It was a traditional wedding, white, in a church. I remember walking down the aisle in a long white dress, clutching nervously a bouquet of white roses and looking straight at Charlie at the altar, grinning that cheeky grin from ear to ear. That made me feel a little better. I became pregnant a few weeks later. Charlie stayed with me for a month after the wedding. When he left for Afghanistan I was two weeks pregnant.
While Charlie was away I took to music. I have composed several pieces, all of which are dedicated to him. I miss him, I do. I write letters to him too, but I don't know what to say. Not much has happened. Not much is going to happen. I feel like a widow and I'm only twenty three years old. I should be happy, with my husband. He shouldn't be so far away.
I lay in bed sometimes and think of what life could be like. I need someone to talk to, some one to love. An embryo doesn't exactly fit the bill. I don't feel as though there's a life growing inside of me, I feel dead.
Dear Charlie • Opuss № I