It was that day again. That one day where she let go of her strength, composure, and need to be in control of her emotions. For this singular day each year, Diana Reid allowed old feelings to take hold and release them. For twenty four hours, she could be honest with herself and the world about the person behind her smiling mask.
Today was the anniversary of the day her husband had left her and their son.
There was so much pain inside of her. More than anyone realized. Guilt, too. Over the deterioration of her marriage. Over not being able to be there when her son needed her. Most people didn't bother to look that deeply into her life to realize it.
When she woke up that morning, she could hear rain pattering on the roof. Fitting. It matched her feelings about the day ahead. Almost instantly she wished that she hadn't woken up in the first place. Alas, she was awake. She shuffled to the bathroom and washed her face off, but didn't bother dressing for the day. She just didn't have the energy. She dutifully took her medication and ate breakfast, but the actions were hollow. Done without any feeling. When that was done, she went back to her room.
She reached beneath the bed and pulled out a small box. This was where she kept the memories of her husband. She needed it to be in a very secluded place, considering she only thought of him in private. She removed the lid, and then started to take things out. There were bigger items like photo albums and framed pictures, and smaller ones, like her wedding ring.
She looked at her wedding portrait. They had been so happy that day. Now the smiling woman in the picture had become a complete stranger to her. It was disheartening to say the least. She looked at William, who was holding her hands in the photograph. She used her finger to trace his outline.
There was so much she remembered about him. The way he laughed at her jokes, the smell of his cologne, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and every contour of his face. They had been so young. Young and in love. She had almost forgotten what that had felt like, but if she tried hard enough, she could still remember how her heart raced when she saw him, and the unspeakable joy that strangled her every time she was close to him. She missed that more than words could say.
There was a point in her life where he had been everything to her. Her moon and stars. Now, it was just a bitter reminder of how much she had lost. She knew she was opening herself up to heartache when they first started dating, but could have never imagined that things would end this way. Their marriage had imploded. The life she'd built with the man she loved had come crumbling down, leaving her to clean up the remains by herself.
So much of the time she wondered if she had caused it. She knew that she was just as much to blame as he was- but how much was actually her fault? It was a question that haunted her every night- even after twenty years. It was painful to contemplate, but necessary. There was so much that she feared about the past, even though it had already happened. But there was one fear that superseded all the others.
She was afraid of forgetting her husband.
There were things she remembered, but so much more she couldn't. The way he used to stroke her hair. The sound of his voice when he sang their infant son to sleep. The way he looked after a long trial was over. Those little details, seeming unimportant at the moment, had begun to fade with the passage of time. She didn't want to forget them. She was afraid that if she forgot them than somehow he would be erased completely- and then she wouldn't even have her memories anymore.
She needed to know that he was real. That he wasn't a cruel delusion caused by her schizophrenia. Then again, she knew he had to exist. Because she had Spencer, and because the pain of losing him wouldn't have been so bad if he was just a figment of her imagination. Sometimes, though, she wished he was. Just so she and her son wouldn't have had to suffer so much.
She picked up her wedding ring and stared at it. William had taken such care in picking it out. She remembered him telling her that he had spent two hours trying to choose what to get her at the jewelers. It was supposed to be a symbol of unending love. She often wondered why she had kept it all these years. Maybe that meant something. What that was, she might never know.
She sighed and rolled onto her side, starting to flip through her photo album. It started when they were first dating and spanned years, documenting every stage of their love. They had been so close. Best friends, even. And that was how it should have been. Now her girlhood fantasy of perfect love had been shattered, and it was heartbreaking.
She felt tears beginning to stream down her face. Where had everything gone so wrong? Why couldn't she have been able to fix it? Why had their family broken apart? She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. The man she had loved so deeply had gone long ago. Yet it still felt like it was just yesterday.
There was a part of her that still loved him. It always would, she supposed. He had been willing to look past her illness and get to know the girl underneath all the layers of insanity. For that she would always be grateful. She doubted that many others would take the time to see past her condition.
She had given him everything. Her love, loyalty, devotion, and care. He had given her their son, but chose to leave anyways. Diana would never understand that. How he could leave the most precious gift in his life was beyond her. She understood him leaving her, but Spencer? He was just a little boy. A little boy who was forced to carry a huge burden the moment his father walked out that door.
She felt a flash burn of anger. Her baby had lost his childhood to that pedophile Gary Michaels. If he hadn't been after Spencer their marriage never would have failed. They would still be a family if it weren't for him. She picked up one of her pillows and threw it across the room in a rage. It simply made a thunking noise against the wall before landing on her couch. She calmed down some before resuming her earlier crying.
She always wondered about her husband. Where was he now? Where did he live? Did he go to a different law firm or stay at the same one? Did he ever think about the family he left behind? Sometimes she wanted to know the answers to those simple questions. Other times she didn't. To know that he'd moved on with his life was just too much for her.
She wanted to put on an old record and drown herself in the blues, but she couldn't. She couldn't move. The depression was paralyzing her with grief. She stared up at the ceiling for a long time, just waiting for her emotions to even out. By the time they did it was time for lunch.
Diana slowly ate her food before retreating back to her safe haven. She curled back up into her bed and listened to the quiet around the room. If she tried very hard, she thought she could hear the first strains of "Tracks Of My Tears" by Smokey Robinson playing. It was a perfect song for the occasion. Before she knew what was happening, she slipped into delusion.
There he was. After all their time apart.
"Will?" She asked, desperately willing him to be real. He smiled and nodded.
"Hello, Diane."
She stepped forward and tried to touch him, but her hand passed right through him.
"You aren't real."
"No. I'm not, but I came to talk to you for a reason."
"I'm listening."
"You wanted to know why. You've wanted to know for years. I'm here to tell you why."
She sucked in a breath. Was she ready for this? She had to believe she was, otherwise he wouldn't have been there. She nodded, waiting for an answer.
"I left because I felt powerless. I couldn't get you the help you needed. I couldn't be the husband you needed or the father Spencer deserved. I knew that in that situation, I just wasn't good enough for you both. So I left."
"But we needed you!" She cried. "I needed you to show me that you could love me even though I was sick. Spencer needed someone to take care of him when I was gone."
"I know. And I'm sorry about that. More than you know."
"Sorry doesn't cut it this time, William. You betrayed me. And worst of all, you turned your back on your son. How could you?" She turned her back to him.
"Remember when you asked me to take Spencer with me?"
"Of course I do."
"I didn't take him because I was angry. I didn't want to take it out on him. I didn't want him to feel responsible for problems that were ultimately my fault."
"Your fault?" She questioned, stunned. He nodded.
"This was all my fault. I should have toughed it out and stayed. I should have never left you. I still love you- and Spencer."
The words made her choke on air. She'd waited to hear that for years.
"Thank you."
"Anytime."
He gently kissed her cheek before offering her his hand. She took it, and they danced together for the first time in a long time.
It was three hours later when the delusion faded away. Diana felt a sense of peace for the first time in awhile. Normally her hallucinations were terrifying, but this was gratifying. She had expected to be afraid, but instead, her mind gave her a gift. It was a rare treat.
She glanced at the clock. It was nine at night. She dragged herself out of bed to take her medication. When she got back to her room, she picked up the ring again and slid it onto her finger. Surrounded by memories, she laid back down, waiting until her medication kicked in. Then, she carefully boxed up the memories back under her bed, and cried one last time before falling asleep.
Tomorrow would most assuredly be a better day.