It takes seconds.
It's a fact of life that happiness takes years to achieve; it's also a fact that it takes mere seconds for it to be ripped away from you, if you're lucky this will only happen once, if you're really lucky you will never have to know what it feels like to have the world ripped from beneath your feet.
I'm one of the unlucky ones. For years I was happily married, I had the picture perfect family; a beautiful wife and a happy and healthy little boy. But things are rarely as they seem, I loved my wife dearly but I loved my job too and so unable to deal with the long hours and trips away my wife filed for divorce. I still saw Jack regularly and tried my hardest to reconcile with Hayley and for a time it was working. That was until a case went wrong and the serial killer George Foyet targeted my family. My family were taken away from me and put into protective custody and for months I was forced to watch my son grow up through video tapes as my team and I hunted tirelessly for Foyet. The man was merciless and killed a bus full of innocent people to make a point to me; that I should have made a deal with him. I knew then that this man would never stop; it was just another way to prove that he was in control. So I did what I had to, I hunted him, he tormented us all and eventually he found Hayley, He killed Sam, her witness protection officer and lured her back to the house. Once he had her there he forced me to listen as he shot her and hunted for my son. Thankfully Jack was unharmed. Once I reached the house I found Hayley's body in what was once the bedroom she and I shared, I lost it then and beat Foyet to death with my bare hands.
That was the first time my life was torn apart, the second time was the day I lost you.
That weekend had been the best we had had in a long time. I had to pull so many stings to get us the weekend off before you weeks leave, I think if things had gone the way they were supposed to instead of how they ended then Strauss would still be collecting payment for that particular favour.
Jack was so excited that Friday morning when you woke him up to tell him he was staying off from school so that he could spend the day with his daddies, even more so when you told him we were going to that Dr. Who convention. I was such a stroppy ass that day; the two of you were so excited, chatting a mile a minute in the car on the way there. I never got the chance to apologise for my mood that day but in fairness Spencer you did force me to dress up as one of The Hath something that would normally have taken you six months of sexual favours to make up for. It was a lot of fun as it turned out, watching the two of you together warmed my heart, I felt as though I had finally found my place in the world and I never wanted to let that go. We spent the rest of the day showing Jack round the exhibits and I listened as you patiently and willingly answered all of his questions; pointing out props from your favourite episodes, it was adorable how animated you would get over those things. I remember how later that day we went out to your favourite restaurant, of course by that time Jack was almost falling asleep in his meatballs so we had to cut it short, but not before you got your chocolate fix. The rest of the weekend is a blur of sweat and sheets.
Monday came far too quickly and watching you get on that plane was awful, Jack was inconsolable after you left, I told him it was only for a week and then you'd be back. He has never forgiven me for that, Anyway I took him for ice-cream afterwards to cheer him up, nothing worked, all he wanted was you and your bedtime stories. Eventually I got him settled with the promise that he could call you first thing Tuesday morning. After he fell asleep I went downstairs to relax and turned on the T.V. Can you imagine having the news delivered that way? To be told the worst news of your life by a television station?
The T.V was still on the news station and there was an article of a plane crash somewhere outside of Nevada, early reports speculated that one of the engines had given out and unfortunately the crew were unable to recover the aircraft from its rapid decent. I remember thinking about those poor souls, we'd seen plane crashes before and what was recoverable was not the way anyone would ever want to remember their loved ones. I watched as the cameras panned over the crash site showing the wreckage and I knew there was little or no chance of finding anything recognisable, I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I almost didn't notice when flight number flashed across the screen, my heart stopped right there for a moment I could barely breath as my mind flicked back to your ticket and the final pieces fell into place. It was your flight, the flight I had put you on hours ago. My happy life was over, life had been ripped away from me for a second time and this time there would be no getting it back.
The next few weeks were horrific. I hated having to call your mother's doctors to tell them the news, worse when we were told that most of your remains were unrecoverable. I stopped sleeping and eating, eventually Dave had to drag me to the hospital. I let myself get so ill, without you there it was like there was nothing left. Jack had moved in with Jess a week after you died. He told me that ours was a house of death, that anyone he loved that lived with me left him and died, I still see him as often as I can or as often as he allows, but now that he's getting older those visits are fewer and father between. I really think that if Jess hadn't insisted the visits would have stopped already. The therapist thinks that writing this letter to you will help me in my recovery; I told him that I'm not interested in recovering. It took years for me to find happiness and both times it took seconds for that happiness to be taken away. I love you and miss you Spencer, I hope to be with you someday, sooner rather than later.
All my love
Aaron.