It’s been an hour since her body was taken to the morgue, but to her husband, John, it seemed like just moments ago. As the vision of her lifeless body lying on the bed permeated his mind, he stood at the entrance to the bedroom he shared with Sara.

Although her death has been deemed a suicide, John couldn't understand why his loving, beautiful wife would want to take her own life. Why didn’t I see the signs?

he wondered. I could’ve prevented this.

Sara had been battling depression and anxiety for five of the eight years they were married, but John thought her psychiatric conditions were under control with the numerous medications she had been prescribed and taking. In fact, he thought her demons had been conquered since she resumed her favorite hobby of jogging in the local park a couple of times per week.

As he wiped away the wet stream that descended from his right eye, John saw the edge of a folded piece of paper peeking out from under the bed. He took the note from its resting spot where Sara had dropped it just before ingesting the whole bottle of the anti-anxiety medication Xanax and, with trembling hands, flipped open the note and silently read the following:

Dear John:

When you find this, I will hopefully already be dead. After eight years of being married to the best husband anyone could ask for, I felt that you deserve to know why.

I’ve been having an affair for the past three years with a man we both know. A week ago, I tested positive for HIV. Since then, I’ve agonized over the thought of having to tell you and the other man. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to handle your disappointment, so I decided to end my life.

I hope that one day, my dear John, that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Furthermore, I sincerely pray that your test will be negative.

Forever regretful,
Sara


Five days later, John's neighbor Bill stepped outside to get his mail. The wretched smell that flew through the air almost knocked him down. After ascertaining that the foul odor was coming from John's house, Bill decided to investigate.

Upon noticing that the front door was ajar, Bill went inside.

"John," he yelled. "Are you here?"

When there was no reply, he searched the house looking for the source of the stench. As he approached the open doorway to John's bedroom, he could see John's corpse lying on the bed. Being a paramedic, Bill knew instantly that John was dead.

As he was calling the police, he gazed at what appeared to be a piece of paper clutched in John's hand. And in John's other hand, he noticed another piece of paper.

Bill would later learn that one of the pieces of paper was Sara's suicide note and the other was John's.

Dear Bill:

I'm so sorry that you had to find me like this, especially since you have been such a great friend to me and Sara. You have always been there when we needed you.

I'll never forget how you always looked out for Sara when I was away on a business trip and that you would go jogging with her every time to make sure she would be safe. Your kindness will never be forgotten.

By the way, you have AIDS.

John

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 14.08.2011

Alle Rechte vorbehalten