I should be in work by this time on a morning. Instead I'm sitting in our bedroom crying and feeling bitter at the unfairness of it all, that I should be wrenched away from my wife who I loved so very much, and a life that I loved so very much, and handed instead a lifetime sentence of sadness, a burden of grief and loss that may in time lose some of its rawness but will remain with me to the day that I myself die.
I am not bitter towards Louise. I could never be that. I cannot blame her for her illness, she fought it so bravely and I love her from the bottom of my heart as I know she loved me. I'm just bitter that fate has singled both Louise and I out for such treatment and don't understand what either of us has done to deserve it.