Hawkeye,

I'm writing this in my journal for you. Your father gave this to me the day after I arrived here. He said it was for the days when I really feel like crap. He said writing in it may help me feel better. He mentioned something about it being therapeutic and I told him not to use such a dirty word.

I miss you so badly. There are times when I just want to die I'm so lonely. Your father really helps. He's such an angel. I don't know what I would do without him. And of course the baby helps me along…knowing that someone is dependent upon me. He has been kicking all day. My stomach is so sore. He is really going to be a tough little guy. Listen to me…I'm already referring to it as a boy. I hope it's a boy, I hope he looks just like you. I shouldn't get my hopes up, we don't always get what we want. I should know. Nothing has ever worked out for me. My entire life has been one huge mistake after another. Except maybe for you. But look at where that's gotten me, not exactly what I would call a stroke of good luck.

Katherine stopped by yesterday. She's such a sweet woman. We went for a walk in the gardens and I tried my hardest to press her for details about her and your father. To sum up the very little she told me…He still hasn't proposed. I don't know what's stopping him, he obviously loves her. He almost begins to drool whenever he's around her…It's sweet really. I should talk to him about it, not like he would actually listen to me. Who would? I'm the crazy one.

Anyway, according to all the doctors buzzing around here the baby is perfectly healthy. I'm getting bigger everyday. Thank god the morning sickness finally stopped. Well, the actual nausea has passed but I still feel sick every time I realize my baby won't be able to look into his daddy's bright blue eyes. I suppose that's why I'm here. I still think your father is being over-protective. But what I think doesn't really matter. Oh all the doctors will tell you that what you think matters; but what really matters is what they think you think. True facts seem unimportant in a place like this.

More than anything I wish they would let me go home. I want to curl up by the fireplace with your mother's soft quilt. I want to walk along the narrow beach, feeling the wet sand squish between my toes. I want to walk through the woods with you dad collecting the small crabapples. In the few short months I was there, I really fell in love with Crabapple Cove. Of course everything I did, I did in anticipation of doing with you when you came home. I guess I can't really do that anymore.

The doctors tell me I'm in denial. Or at least that's what they imply. I tell them to put a cork in it. I know what happened; just because I don't want to start making a long speech about how I feel DOES NOT mean I'm in denial!

I remember you always telling me not to be so closed. The doctors say the same thing but it never has the same effect. Probably because they're missing those damn, heart melting eyes of yours that always got their way. I hope our baby has your eyes. It might hurt to look into those eyes, but knowing that those eyes are from you…well it would be comforting.

Well I have to go. I have another session with Dr. Rosenberg. He's probably the easiest of the shrinks to go through a session with. He doesn't ask all of the annoying questions like "how do you feel today?" I feel like crap, thank you. "How are you dealing with the accident?" Like I want to die…blah blah blah. Dr. Rosenberg will simply listen. Of course I'm not saying anything so it's really just an hour of silence. He just stares at me, although the pervert is never looking at my face.

If you could ever have met any of these doctors I can just imagine the fun you'd have dissecting their every action. I'm constantly thinking about how you would react to certain situations that I find myself in throughout the day. It makes me feel so much closer to you. The shrinks all say I need to stop doing that, that I need to move on. Bull! I hate this place! They won't even allow me to grieve for my husband! If I was suicidal I could understand why I'm here. But all I want is to be left alone. All I need is time.