Brian's Last Journal Entry

I think Brian knew he was done fighting for his life anymore. He did not intentionally kill himself, but I think he just knew, somehow, he was done. That the end was near.

Imagine how devastated I was to open up his journal after his passing and finding this last entry. I couldn't respond. I wish I had read it and could have told him to hold on. I wish I could have told him that our love was not faithless and "divorced" was something we would never be.

Then again I did not give him much faith, when out of my own rage, made him believe we could possibly be done, and throwing divorce in his face out of anger, even though I didn't actually mean the words. I cast him out, just 13 days later from the date of this letter, his own silent torment. I could not bring myself to watch as he would throw away everything we had worked so hard for, to be for nothing, on a relapse. I didn't give him enough to believe with and hold onto. I just held onto my own hope that he would see. That he would know that I would never truly turn my back on him.

I just wanted him to understand I was serious about his sobriety, but it was not MY sobriety to manage. Tough love... What a joke! Ultimatums are not the answer. Telling him to choose between me or his drugs, his family or his drugs! It's not that simple, no matter what we think we might know. We don't understand.

We should have gotten help, we should have been honest with the counselor and opened up about the battles--his with addiction, and mine being married to someone with addiction. Instead I was left with a letter, a journal entry. I was too wrapped up in my own pain to see his was destroying him. I knew he was hurting and I was too. But, I didn't have to fight against an addiction in the middle of this nightmare we found ourselves in...

Who knew that 18 days later this would be the letter that prophesied his death?

Tuesday
March 08,
2016

New beginnings and fresh starts rarely leave suicide notes detailing broken hearts. It seems behind is the only place to leave the past if a future life is intended to last. For rear view mirrors you have no need. Why ever look back once you have taken the lead. Always remember that in reverse, back is the only direction to go and who buys tickets and travels just to miss the show? Granted that no one can foretell what their new future holds. It just seems unbeneficial to those who ask to be dealt in their folds. Almost certain that new lives are only sought after old ones burn and yet still for it will always be these new lives are only sought after old ones burn yet still for it will always be these lives we wish to return. So does it matter if new beginnings are sought or forced maybe if these beginnings solely stem from faithless love divorced. Either which way fresh starts can be a blessing or a curse. I imagine that they can be both always ending with the same slow ride in the back of a hearse. With such calming realities of an equal end across the board. It seems rather difficult to justify anyone's painful memory hoard. But without the memories of left lives before how is it possible to ever feel secure with the decision to close the door. Guess I'll soon know and see, I wonder what I'll allow this next life to be.
                                                                                                                                  - Brian Wright

Last letter from Brian

The last letters Brian ever wrote me was so heart breaking. I read it over and over again, mostly because I need to hear the part where he tells me he loves me. I just wish he understood how much I love him.

The back story to this letter he wrote me:

We had gotten into a fight when I got a phone call to come and pick up the Consent Decree for his daughter, that would outline all of the allegations made by DFS and his daughter, who I once too believed was mine. I was forewarned that the report was going to be brutal and I was even encouraged to reconsider allowing her back into our home, because they were concerned if she came back that the allegations would only get worse.

The report I had read was horrendous I cried the entire time I was reading it but I could not put it down. I kept reading it over and over again, with tears streaming down my face. I looked to my husband lost not knowing what to do from here. I asked if we should just let her go with her mom, or maybe if we should consider a sort of reform school. The advice I had gotten terrified me. They said "What if she next lies and says one of your boys touched her? Kristie think about how far she is willing to go here with all of these lies. They won't stop. They will only get worse, she is setting out to destroy you. Do you want to lose your kids while she is on the road of destruction."

I was ridden with fear! The report I read, was accusing me of abuse as well. The things that were listed in that report were heartbreaking to read! I was terrified that after all these years of protecting my children, what if this person's advice was right and I suddenly would not be able to protect my own children. Yet, I was torn with the love I had for this little girl.

Brian became so angry at my fears, and so angry at what was in that report, that after hours of me sitting there sobbing, he ripped the paper out of my hands and said "Stop looking at that, it's no longer your problem!" He practically spit the words at me.

This set me off in a rage! How was it NOT my problem. I yelled at him that it was every bit my problem. She was my daughter and I loved her and she was rejecting me! She was rejecting ME! I was so hurt by her report, so hurt by his words. I took all my wedding stuff off the wall and said this is how he feels about our family. This is where I stand. A worthless hated step mother and wife. (I took the wedding stuff down every time I was throwing a baby tantrum).

After screaming at him I went upstairs and laid in bed with my daughter and cried. He came to the door and told me to come to bed with him. He wasn't polite about it, and I was still so angry at him for what he had said I told him no.

I slept that night with my daughter, then went to work, and avoided coming home for lunch. I still was not prepared to see him. I didn't know what I was to expect from him if I had come home. Would we fight? I didn't want to fight. I was tired of hurting so much at this point. This case had been ruling our life for the past three months and all there was left was tears and heartache every single day.

When I got home from work that evening I came down to my room and saw this letter written on a used piece of paper lying on my pillow:

Tuesday
03/08/16

Kristie                                                                    
        I love you. Not worth the used paper it is written on. I need you. Not much in reasons for you to want to come home or even sleep in the bed. Your home, your bed I said I will leave. You would like that and who wouldn't? I have children, one I told, we are a combo that I refused to split, only days later, clearly a combo I mistakingly allowed faith to believe existed. I foolishly hold strong to values that appear dead to others. Children I hate still deserve a world not poluted, and the children I love a world absent of me. As well as the women who regret our meeting entirely. I deserve more punishment than this life has time to offer me and the time you waste that in no way belongs to you could be saved. Spent more productively on children who deserve more than the pain that swallows the little time they have. Our wedding might serve as a decoration for your mood but remains for
me the single greatest moment allowed me since mmy arrival here. All the truth you attempt to conceal is the one savior for the hopes and possibilities we all deserve. Your freedom and the children's rite to a life without negativity is as attainable as a short to the point conversation filled only with hidden truth and actual desires laid out. With the only consequence of such a discussion leaving everyone getting what they want and me getting exactly what I deserve admitting that the love of your children and the heart you protect I never deserved in the first place. I can promise you that between telling me to leave and telling me the truth you'll find that the truth only you know can deliver the results you want without impacting the worthless love I have for you and your children. My heart and manhood are small and useless but belong to you none the less so please I beg you to do as you wish to both. But please don't leave them alone in a home they're not wanted with a woman that is tired of both. I will always love you.
                                                                                                                                 - Brian

I wrote him a letter back, which he threw away. Telling him that no I loved him. That he deserved the best a wife could give him. That he always deserved the best. I told him he was a wonderful father and how blessed we were to have had him in our lives, and my children to have had him as their father. 

I went upstairs and laid on his chest and told him I was sorry and that I loved him. He asked why I didn't come home for lunch and I said "because I don't want to fight anymore". We had scheduled an appointment with Sky with every determination to throw out the consent decree so that those bogus reports could not be used against us at a later date. He had convinced us not to go to trial, telling us just to do everything asked and anytime she acted up once brought back into the home, we would just call DFS, since they created this problem we were going to allow them to handle it. 

This gave me renewed fight to keep going. Now that I had a solution in place I felt like it was time for us to regroup and do what needed done... Unfortunately my husband did not feel the same way. He was still very tired, and his fight would only get worse over the next few days... He got lost, he started giving up, and no amount of fight I had in me was bringing him back... 

He loved me...

I was walking past the old Radio Shack the other day and suddenly I just stopped. I have walked past that door several times over the months and not once did I feel this sudden urge to stop there like I did on this day for no particular reason...

I stared at the door for awhile with flash backs to the first day I met Brian. It was this door he had walked through. I was in the middle of the store with my coworker, in what we called the "bull pen", and I turned around as the door opened, and in walked this man. My heart stopped as I watched him walk through that door, and saunter toward me at my work station. There was no other customers in the store, just him... I remember exactly what he was wearing that day.

I don't quite know what came over me. I never had that reaction toward anyone else in my life! I couldn't think, I could barely even function. He was not the most gorgeous man I had ever seen in my life, but he was DAMN fine!!! I couldn't understand why I reacted this way to him, it was as though no one else in the world existed. Years later I think I can sum it up to love at first sight, it just took me awhile to succumb to my true feelings.

I am not sure what he saw in me. He was gorgeous. He had everything going for him and yet he continued coming back through that door everyday to buy some stupid little gadget, or have me fix something on his phone, or plan. He was there everyday! It took time before I finally broke and told him he had to stop coming into the store. When he asked why, I looked at him like he was stupid and said "because I can't think when you are around! I have the biggest crush on you"! He laughed and told me to shut up.

Later that night he came to the theater I was working at whenever they needed me, to watch a movie. He invited me up to watch with him, and his friends. We spent the entire time talking. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that it appeared that he was flirting with me. I was so fat, I had four kids, I was trying to get out of an unhappy marriage. Who in their right mind would ever be attracted to me? He was... For some reason, he was attracted to me.

For two years we carried on a friendship that also included benefits from time to time. I was always jealous of other girls that would come along, or if I saw him flirting or looking at other girls. He didn't know that I was eaten up with jealousy. I had no claim to him. I was still dealing with the on again off again with my husband at that time. I think I just always saw him as being mine from the very first time I laid eyes on him.

When I started to lose a mass amount of weight after being so utterly disgusted with my first husband and what he had done to my daughter. He was the only person that did not say a single thing to me. I had lost 80lbs in about three months. It wasn't intentional, I just couldn't eat. I was so disgusted by everything that had happened, that I had married a monster. I just couldn't eat. I would consistently get compliments over how much weight I lost, how good I looked, etc. I actually HATED every time it was brought up. I didn't earn their praises. I did nothing except waste away.

Brian fed me back to life. I am certain that I would have been hospitalized had it not been for Brian. He came to work with me after my ex had been arrested for molesting my daughter. He had made sure I always had water. I would be talking with a customer and he would get my water bottle and fill it and then quietly slip it back into my hand, without gathering attention or interrupting my sale. He would go get food and put it in front of me, not say a single word, just lay it out, with the expectation I would eat. I would sigh with dread looking at the food, but not wanting to be rude, I would pick at it, until eventually he would see I was done, then come gather the rest of the food and eat if for himself.

He never seemed to see my weight. He saw me as a person. He always thought I was beautiful, smart, ambitious and strong woman. He loved everything that made up the person I was. I used to hear nasty remarks from his ex, saying I was only trying to lose weight so that he would love me.  I would hear nasty remarks by her to "eat a cheeseburger" along with her snickers as she passed me by. I never responded. Just kept to myself. Hell I had to endure the fat jokes from my ex while I was married to him over being fat, so nasty remarks concerning my appearance were nothing new for me. What she didn't understand, and what I myself didn't understand, he loved me, for the person I was.

As time went on over the years I developed my taste buds back. I started putting back on the weight. Slowly of course. I started to feel insecure that maybe he would see me how my ex did. That I was just a fat cow. He never did. I would start trying to hide my body, and dress in other rooms. He would always ask me why, and I would bring up my weight and he would tell me how beautiful I was. He actually told me I was too skinny before, and that I had looked almost sick. He liked me being heavier. His only concern was for the weight on my knees, since they were in such bad shape.

Then whenever his other ex wanted to hurt me I would get bashed for my "big nose" and for being so fat and disgusting. I hated hearing these comments. When I would hear them from other people, the first thing I thought about was that this is how my husband sees me. That was all I cared about. I would start crying and he would walk in and get angry about the things she would say to me and then tell me to stop listening to her. He loved me for ME! He thought I was sexy and beautiful. He made me believe it was possible...

Now that he is gone I have lost all desire to feel sexy or beautiful. I have only increased my weight, and my pants fit that much more snug. Sometimes I feel disgusting and wonder if he too is disgusted looking down on me... Strange how even though he is gone, my first thoughts are what he thinks of me.

I will never fully understand and see what he saw in me. I don't know how I got so lucky to have had him for the short amount of time I did. I just know that when I am scrolling through old photos of when we first met, I see how fat I was in my ugly Christmas sweater, and all I can do is smile and think of how hot he thought I was in that hideous thing. That every picture I look at and see as fat and gross, he still loved me. I still had a magical love with this man, that no one can take away from me. He loved me. I will never understand why or how, but he did.

Why?

A friend once told me, while I was in an emotional state, nothing new really, asking "Why?". I was questioning if my husband loved me. If he loved me, then how could he have left me? I am so lost, so confused, so alone...

She told me "I have never understood what it was like to fall in love with an addict until recently." Suddenly she understood why I always stayed with Brian all these years. Why I always fought for Brian, because she too recently fell for an addict.

She told me, she believed fully that he did love me, without question. That maybe, just maybe, he wanted nothing more in this world than to be with me, but he didn't know how to stop hurting me. Dragging me through his constant tug of war with drugs. She told me, "maybe he let go this time because he wanted to find a way to be with you, without hurting you anymore."

Could this be the case? Could he have just finally given up, and let go because he loved me that much? Not just me but our children, his children. So many people judge him and used his drug addiction against him--punishing him. My own frustrations and anger casting him out, because I wasn't strong enough to endure the relapse, not this time. Was he just tired of losing his battle? Feeling completely unwanted, but loving with all that he had--the family that he felt was rejecting him.

I don't know that I would have wanted to live through that myself. Even without battling addiction.

Could he have loved us, all of of us so much that this was the only way? Did he feel it was the only way he could be with all of his children, his wife--was to just let go and live within our hearts, with his spirit, and no longer hurt us?

If so he was wrong! This does not make the pain any less... Though somehow it makes some form of sense in a warped way of thinking.

I would much rather kept fighting with him, and for him. I would have fought and fought for him until the day we both were grey and old--holding onto our love, dying together. Couldn't he have just loved us all enough to keep living? Keep fighting?

But, how exhausting that must have felt. Right now in my own grief, I am beyond exhausted. So how could I in my right mind, and selfishness, say that I don't care how tired he was, he should have held on out of love? I did not endure as much loss and heartache as he had during his lifetime, so who am I to judge? Hell, if I could, I would give up right now. I would find my release from this life to go be with him. No... I can't fault him for being too tired to keep fighting.

I can only hope that what they say is true, that he does live in spirit among us. I can only hope and pray that everything we hear about the the afterlife is true, and that one day, when the time is right, we will truly be joined together, and my soul, and heart will be whole once more.

I love him, now and forever... heart and soul... for the rest of my life.