Three days later. Nothing. He had drank coffee every morning for those next 3 days out of the very can I poisoned and nothing happened. So much for the movies right?

Time for the second try. My boyfriend was kind of the mechanical expert. So we cut the brakes to his truck while he slept one night. It took no more than 10 minutes and afterwards just to spite him for not leaving my house we made love in the bed of his truck. It was fantastic, under the stars in the summer heat. 

A week went by and he never drove anywhere. 

The next several weeks I tried everything I could think of. Accidentally pushing the T.V. on him. Leaving the kitchen floor greasy with knives strewn all about. Had a toaster in the shower plugged in. Nothing worked. Though he never seemed to realize what I was doing.

I came home that last night I didn’t care. I was going to shoot him and end it all. It could easily be blamed on a burglar. I would throw the gun in the pool out back. No one is going to think it would be me. His own wife. Hell no one knew we were getting a divorce and that I was allready seeing someone else. SO there would be no motive.

I came home late that night. I was with my fella. It was a great night. I knew when I pulled in the driveway I could do this and have no regrets. I knew this. 

It was Five in the morning. There was no reason he would be awake. I turned the key and opened the door. I headed straight to the bedroom without even pausing gun in hand. He wasn’t there. I walked back outside to double check that his truck was there. In my hurry I didn’t even think to check.
It was there.

I put the gun away and run back into the house. Frantic. Where could he possibly be at this hour. I pour myself some orange juice with some Vodka in it to calm my nerves. I had to calm down. Why I was so frantic all of the sudden I didn’t know. 

I walked into the living room glass in hand and stopped dead in my tracks. Someone was there. I could barely make them out in the early morning light coming in through the windows. I called his name but no answer, and no movement. I used my free hand to turn on the light switch.

The Glass fell from my hands and crashed to the floor shattering all over the place. You know how in movies that moment happens in slow motion to increase dramatic affect? Well it doesn’t work that way in real life. Time went so fast. The glass crashing on the floor seemed to happen the minute the lights turned on. 

There he was. Dangling lifelessly from the ceiling fan. THere was a note attached to his chest that simply read “Goodbye my love, Goodbye my life.”

I ran to the kitchen and made myself another drink. That same glass sits in front of me now. I’m going to leave. I’m going to let the police find his body and this note. I’ll be long gone by then. I drove him to this. I drove him to kill himself. What was I thinking. I was a fool, I truely did love him. I just had to fish his keys out of his pocket. I’m going to have to take his truck, because I let “the other man” take my car so it would look like I was robbed and they took the car. It’s better this way anyway, his truck will get me farther. I kissed him goodbye, drank one more drink, finished my note. and now I’m leaving……I don’t deserve to be here anymore.


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