I remember every year with should detail, the day you were taken away. Not by God but by the person that called himself your husband. I didn't know you. I hadn't even noticed you before. I had only lived in the area 3 weeks,so didn't really know anybody. But I think about you nearly every day. You were just starting out in married life. You should still be happy and maybe have children now. But you are gone. I tried to help you, but often I feel I didn't do enough. I have moved again now,to try and get over that day. But I don't think I every will. I think of your family. How hard it must be for them. I even think of the person that coursed all this heartache. I hate him entering my head, but he does. I have heard that he has served his prison sentence. Where he is now, I don't know. It worries me that he could be close by. But angers me that he can now live his life.