Day 43
I know now we will never get her back. There’s no part of me left that can even attempt to pretend to the other parts of me that I believe she’s still alive or that we will ever see her again. I’ve never known despair like this before. Hopelessness. No one knows this and no one will until they read this journal, but I tried to kill myself this morning. Maybe “try” is too strong a word. Maybe it was more just that I very seriously contemplated it and looked for ways to do it. I actually held Keith’s handgun to my head for a few minutes before I found that I was too big a coward to pull the trigger. I don’t want to live. But I am unable to kill myself. I just wish I knew what happened to Magdalene. Even if I never get to see her again . . . even if I never get to hold her . . . even if she’s not alive and hasn’t been for a very long time, not knowing is driving me insane. I just want to know what happened to her and know who did it. I’m not even sure what I would do about it. As much as I would like to think I would kill them, it’s hard to imagine if I can’t kill myself feeling the way I do that I could kill anyone else. Not knowing is the coolest torture ever conceived by the universe. I just want to know. Please let me find out what happened to my little girl. Why? Why did this happen? Did I do something to cause this? Did Keith? Is this our fault? Did we let someone into our lives and into our home that put our little girl at risk? We tried so hard to protect her, but ultimately we failed. Maybe all those people who said we shouldn’t be able to adopt because we are gay were right after all, but for the wrong reasons.