It’s been almost a year since Sidney died, and the scent of his Brute cologne still lingers in my memory. I believe it was a sunny day, much like today, but the air had a much more humid taste to it. I remember it started out much like any morning would, Sidney was fixing himself a saucer of Oatmeal, he always liked to drown it’s bland flavor with heaping tablespoons of brown sugar. I was still lying beneath the sheets of our bed, watching the sun as it stretched it’s golden arms out and embraced the dawn sky. I could hear the faint buzzing of Sidney’s favorite radio program, as his laughter tickled my ears with bliss. I rolled out of bed and approached my husband. He looked at me with those striking green eyes of his. It took my breath away. I ran my fingers through his damp hair, stroking his soft Strawberry Blonde curls. Later that day I told Sid I was making a run to the market, and asked him if their was anything he wanted. He responded with a gut wrenching silence. I asked Sidney again, figuring he hadn’t heard me the first time. But still no reaction from my dear husband. I discreetly reached my hand out to touch his face, and felt a damp tear drizzle down his unshaven cheek. A numbing chill ran through out my body, as I grabbed my purse and left him there, alone. Of all the mistakes I have ever made through out my lifetime, this was the worst one. When I arrived home, before even opening the front door, I knew. Gripping the icy door handle, it felt a million times heavier than ever before. The musty air infatuated my heart as I looked down at this lifeless carcass sprawled out on the floor before me. I felt nothing. His fist was clutched so tight all the knuckles had turned a dead white. In his left hand possessed the very weapon once used to protect me, now stripping my husband naked. A sick anguish invited itself into my stomach. I ran to snatch myself a knife from the kitchen counter, and spotted something scribbled out on the back of an unpaid bill. I LOVE YOU MAXIENE. I fell to my knees before Sidney, wading in a pool of blood. Stroking his soft Strawberry Blonde curls, I told Sid everything would be all right. I took the sharp knife and cut myself a handful of his locks.