Member-only story
Dear Ben / Envy
4–15–2025
Dear Ben,
I am ashamed to admit that I am wracked by envy of other couples I see. I want what they have — what I once had. I imagine them in their homes, especially as evening settles. Evening and early night were my favorite times with you. No obligations, no appointments. Just us in the quiet of the waning day. In bed, reading, talking, sharing. Now, my evenings and nights are filled with longing and sorrow. As the sun sets, I’m eager for the day to end. The tears I avoid during the day fall at night.
I look at couples and have to stop myself from running to them and saying that if they stay together, one of them will surely someday be where I am now — in deep sadness. One will likely die before the other. One will be left behind, dealing with grief and loneliness, wishing to turn back the hands of time, wanting one more day, wanting to change the past in little or big ways, wanting to stop the inevitable.
But why ruin what they have now? Would they even believe me? It’s difficult to believe in death until it arrives. We can think of it in the abstract, but the reality of death needs to be experienced before we truly know how it destroys what took years to build.
Abstractly, I knew it was likely that you would pass before me. Abstractly, I knew I would be terribly sad. But I couldn’t imagine what I am now experiencing. Reality is so much worse than imagination.
So, I don’t approach those couples. I let them live in their limited bliss. I watch and envy them because they have what I once had, and I know what the future holds for one of them.
Missing you always . . .
© Dennett 2025
