My Dearest Love,

I miss you. Is there a better way to say it? Is there a way for me to truly convey the depth of my emotion to you? Every waking moment, I’m thinking about you and remembering what it is to be in your arms. Every night, you walk in my dreams and try to save me from this horror I’m living. Is there a way for me to be with you again? I wish I knew.

All these long months alone have opened my eyes, in a way. All the things I took for granted have been taken from me. Do you know what it is to have every moment of your day dictated for you? Everything, from when I wake up to when and what I eat to what I do for fun, are all planned for me, and I have no choice but to follow.

This place has taken you from me just as surely as what’s wrong in my own mind. Was I really that bad off when I came here? When I entered this falsely clean and happy place in an attempt to get better, what was really wrong? It’s been so long now that I can’t remember if I really needed help, or if someone else convinced me that I did.

I don’t even remember who I was before I came here. My name is printed on my wristband, but the letters mean nothing. They shock my head with electricity in an attempt to change the way I think. All it does is hurt, and nothing changes. But I can’t tell them that. It would only encourage them to try again.

I’m not healing here. I’m only getting worse. You were taken from me shortly after I arrived. I’m so sorry that I took you for granted. I don’t know how to get you back anymore. I never realized just how much you meant to me, or how influential you were in my life. Before I came here, I had a job, and a house, and a life, and it was all thanks to you. I gave those up to get better, but all that happened was that I lost you. Nothing is better. I've only gotten worse.

When they put me in the straight jacket, all I have is time to think. All I can think about is how much I miss you. I don’t remember my job anymore. I don’t remember what my house looked like. Did I live there alone? Was I married? Did I have children? Where are they now, if they ever existed? I don’t know. I can’t remember.

Is any of this real? I don’t know anymore. Is this pencil in my hand really here? Am I writing this note? The letters on the page before me blur periodically, but so does everything these days. Why does that happen? Is it because I’m only dreaming, and this isn't real? Or am I losing more than just you, my love? What do I have left to lose?

A nurse will probably read this before they send it to you. Will it make any sense to that person? Does any of this mean anything? Am I writing words in this letter, or is this just unintelligible scribbles? I can’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. I don’t even remember my name.

I finally remembered your name, though. For a while, I couldn't remember who I was missing, only that I was missing you desperately. I couldn't remember who you are, or what you represent. Then I started calling you Sandy, and I guess that was a little closer. But that’s not who you are, either. I remember now. I remember who you are, what you mean to me, and why I miss you so very desperately. As I recall, I've written six letters to you since I started calling you Sandy and personifying you. Six letters to spell your name for me. I miss you more than anything, my Sanity. I wish you would come home to me and take me from this god forsaken place. Hold me in your arms again and teach me who I am. Don’t let me keep falling through darkness like this. Please, I beg you, take me home.

With Love,
Patient 812-9