To my husband, the father of my children, the one that murdered my children.

Your name is one I have intentionally refrained from mentioning. If I didn't say your name or speak of you, I thought I could erase you from my memory. I referred to you as the asshole as I processed what had happened. I have found myself unwilling to come to terms with the fact that the person I married would be the same person who would murder our two children before taking his own life.

I feel sick to my stomach as I sit here and remember you, us, our children, the life we had together, and the end. I don't know what to say as I reach for another tissue to wipe away these tears. I don't want to do this, I don't want to sit with this, I don't want to feel this, but I know it's necessary to continue healing. Do you realize what you have done to me? You have taken away my ability to physically hold my children again, hear their laughter, wipe away their tears, watch them grow up, and be their mother.

You have rewritten the direction of my life and caused me so much pain, sadness, and confusion as I navigate through this thick fog you have placed me in. I have said many times behind closed doors that I wish he would have taken my life instead of leaving me with all this pain. How did we get here? Why didn't you just take your own life? Why did you hate me so much to do this? You put me through so much during our marriage; for some reason, I felt I had to deal with it alone. I tried to leave you more than once, as I knew you weren't good for me, only to have you pull me back with empty promises. 

Feeling utterly alone today, I reach for a little box I tucked away in the back corner of a closet. In this empty room with no one around, I start pulling out pictures of our little family and us, showcasing moments when love was once present. One of our first dates was watching fireworks on a boat in the middle of the bay. It was beautiful but freezing. You wrapped your arms around me tightly so I wouldn't freeze and kissed my forehead as fireworks lit up the sky. You liked to play soccer, and before I knew it, I found myself cheering you on as you played with a camera in my hand, capturing your excitement when you scored a goal. Nothing mattered then except you and me, as we spent every day together. 

At the beach, we walked along the water's edge hand in hand. You picked up a nearby stick and wrote our names in the sand, followed by your last name, and shortly after, we walked into the courthouse and said I do. When our daughter was born, I watched you fall asleep with her on your chest and witnessed your love for her that first night. The two of you became two peas in a pod. She loved her silly, at times, over-the-top daddy. 

We watched our daughter grow up and decided she needed a sibling. It took some time and a difficult pregnancy, but our son finally made his appearance. Our daughter was overjoyed with her brother, as we all were. Pictures of our new family of four were taken, and we decided then that our family was complete. You held your son in your arms for the first time and said he looked just like you. He quickly became a mama's boy, screaming his head off whenever I left the room. You tried to hold him so I could get stuff done, but you quickly returned him to me and said he only wants to be with you. It isn't easy allowing myself to remember these memories that we shared. 

To say there were only happy times between us would be a lie. A photo captures just a moment, not reality.  When we first met, I knew you had some addictions, even though I didn't like that you had them. You loved having a glass of wine, but your one drink turned into many more throughout the night. I started to walk on eggshells around you as you became a ticking time bomb the more you drank. I remember the night vividly when you called me every name in the book, grabbed an entire bottle of prescription drugs, emptied the pills onto the counter, smashed them up, and threatened to take them. I stood before you, begging you to stop as tears streamed down my face. You didn't remember anything the following day, and I thought, what did I get myself into? 

Your other addictions started to surface more and more over the years. I watched you fall apart, encouraging you to get the needed help, but you refused.  The emotional abuse I endured in our marriage became unbearable, and I felt like I couldn't breathe when you were around. I filed for divorce a couple of years into our marriage and let it go when I foolishly believed you would get the help you needed, and finally, again, when I started to take my power back. 

You knew you were losing control over me and made it your mission to make my life a living hell. You started to spiral out of control more than usual, and I feared for the safety of our children when they were with you. I filed for sole custody, and you were furious when you found out.

Just days before I was told you murdered our children, you stood in court at our first court appearance and lied, stating you needed a translator, which we both know you did not need. You succeeded in postponing our hearing because they didn't have a translator available. I stood in front of the judge, raised my voice, and said I am not leaving this courtroom without something in writing that would protect myself and my children from his erratic behavior as you stood next to me. We were granted a temporary child custody order until our next hearing. 

I called the police multiple times, asking for assistance when you started becoming irate and wouldn't stop harassing me. I was advised to file a restraining order against you. As I stood outside the family courthouse, waiting to enter to file a restraining order, I received a phone call from a police officer who said I needed to head to the police station. I arrived at the station and was directed to go upstairs. One of the officers standing before me said that you murdered our two children before you took your own life. 

I am sitting alone in an empty room, once filled with little voices, laughter, and footsteps running around. You knew our children were my whole world and took them away from me because you knew it would destroy me. I can't even begin to express how I feel towards you. The person who murdered my two precious innocent children was you, my husband, and the father of my children. 

Ps. You always told me you hurt the ones you love the most. 

-C

"I am not what happened to me. I am what I choose to become."

-Carl Jung