I cry for peace, but there is no peace in my heart.  I cannot sleep well, I cannot rest, I cannot live without you.  Indeed, my body is alive, but I am not.  I spend my moments wondering why you left me and wishing I could get you to come back to me.  I am consumed with agony and my thoughts rack my brain continually burrowing like maggots into the rotten mass that poses for my last vestiges of sanity. 

I know that this will only make you despise me all the more, but my existence has become grueling days spent earning the pay necessary to reduce me to drunken unconsciousness every night.  I am shattered without you and my efforts to hold myself together seem as fruitless as a gutted man trying to clutch his entrails back into their proper place even as they slither out of him like wild snakes. 

Look upon me with pity and consider that I die for the love of you.  You swore a vow to God and to me.  I have kept my vow, and thus though you consider me a heathen, I have proved myself to him and to you.  I pray only that he will carry me home soon or that you will.  I have been faithful to you all these years; I have cried with you, and laughed with you, and burned for you. You owe me at least an explanation if I am to waste away pining for the love I gave to you to return to me. 

I have respected your wishes and given you all you asked of me, except that I cannot cease to love.  I gave you all that I could give, I gave you my life, and I cannot take it back--for better, for worse, in sickness, and in health, til death do us part, I took you as my loving wife and you took me as your loving husband.  I love you and I cannot bear it.