She was wonderful, and she thought I was, too. The key words here being thought, and was. We got along so well, even though neither of us expressed it in an extroverted way as many may expect, we knew we loved each other. I miss her everyday now; without her my mind feels empty. I have been telepathic since birth and have always learned others' thoughts and sometimes it was frustrating, like when my enemies would think of cruel things to do to me over such petty things, and others it was soothing, like when my late wife would think about me as she goes to sleep. It makes me happy that I knew I was enough of a comfort in her life to be thing that puts her to sleep every night. Now, at night, my mind is empty and it roams, the normally calm quiet seemed as restless as I was. Everything seemed off, the bed felt empty and cold when I rolled to my side, the Television didn't feel right being more towards my side of the bed, and the thought of her being gone circulated through my brain endlessly, refusing to believe that she was dead. My brain couldn't stand it, She will come back, it thought, She can't be gone, it continued, She wouldn't leave me. When we married, we had promised that I would be the one to die first, but that ended horribly, as I was still here. I got out of bed and walked to the window and watched the driveway waiting for her car to come back fully repaired from the wreck I didn't want to believe happened. I thought to myself over and over again, "Why had I survived!" the immense amount of frustration sent me into a furious rage as I tore down everything that was mine but leaving all of hers alone as to tell myself what I wanted to hear, I'm the one who is really dead; She is fine. I destroyed all of my clothes, my dresser, the Television I brought into this room and just as I was about to cut my side of the covers I couldn't bring myself to do it, she had picked these out. I remember her soft yet firm voice saying, "These are perfect, we have to get these," as I read her thoughts about how much she loved them, and I knew she meant it. They were hers, I could never destroy them. I walked into the closed garage door and picked up my shovel and started wailing down on my car, I could never forgive these machines or myself, so I figured why not destroy both at once? I kept the garage closed attached a tube from my exhaust pipe into my back window and started the car. I rest my head on the horn forcing the car to scream for me. My voice was useless now that was going to die. It hurt to no longer hear her thoughts, it was as if the last person on earth but me had died, "So, what is the point of living if you are the only one left?" I said aloud. Then the unexpected happened, I heard a voice say, "to live," I recognized that voice. It was hers. But it was too late, I was too far gone.
