The Rose Garden

Jack,

If only things were different, if only you could see how much I love you. I know about the affair Jack, I know about all of them. And the thing is I walk around taking pictures with you, smiling at the adoring fans you have amassed. Do they know Jack? Do they know that the life we have built, the good that we have done was me? Does anyone know what your life would be without me? What YOU would be without me?

Everything I've ever touched has grown roses. Including your career, your yard and seemingly, your heart.

Isn't that what women do? Improve every life they touch. While men destroy and use up, women create. Yet men get all the glory. Even in this infidelity you are more popular. You're seen as a "playboy" who is just having fun. I am not thought of in this scenario as a real person but as a "wife".

All that I see is sad women, mad women, except for the ones who are free. But even those ones, the ones you sleep with behind my back, they are miserable. They want to be me so badly. They want to be with you the way that I am. But the truth is I would much rather be them. They only get the best parts of you Jack. I am your wife and mother, your friend and employee. I do all the hard things, take all the hard things. Take all the hits and see all the bad. What do they get? Diamonds? Dinners? Sex? They are free to go about their lives as they please, as I do your laundry. Not actually of course, we have the help for that but that's the life of a married woman. I can't imagine that anyone actually enjoys married life except for men. I don't know why everyone thinks that it's women who fight so hard for this, when it doesn't benefit us in the slightest.

I'm the prime example of how a woman can be perfect and still not good enough. Your mistress is the other side of that coin, Marilyn Monroe is the perfect woman for all the men in America and you are using her for everything but the thing she actually wants from you. The thing she wants from everyone but doesn't have, respect. I don't hate her Jack, I feel as sad for her as I do myself.

I even enjoy watching her films. Remember when we watched "Seven Year Itch" together and you went on and on about how lovely she was. Remember when I agreed with you about that? I meant it then and I mean it still. It isn't her fault, it really isn't is it? Because if it weren't her, it would be someone. It has been many someones hasn't it? And I feel like some ball and chain most of the time, tying you down to a boring life with me. I know that's not how the papers talk about us. They talk as if I'm doing the right thing by standing by you through all of this. I won't leave, everyone knows that I won't but sometimes Jack I lay in our cold and lonely bed and pray that something happens to change things for me.

I feel terrible about it but I think of all the horrible things I could do to those women, including Marilyn. I think that maybe it could be something peaceful for her. Because she doesn't deserve to be punished. I read up on her Jack. She's been through a lot and so I think I would like for her to go peacefully. I don't want her to suffer, I just want her out of our lives Jack. I know that asking you to stop will not change anything. I don't think talking to her will change it either. She is in love with you Jack. I think just about everyone is really. I don't blame them, I still am. And so when I dream of getting her out of our lives I think I would have someone I know do it for me. They could sneak into her house in the middle of the night and slip something into one of the drinks in her fridge. I would like to think a lot of sleeping pills would do the best. All that would happen is that she would go to sleep and never wake again.

And that way she would never lay with my husband again. But that's only her, there are so many others that you have spent time with Jack. Just so many that I wonder if my escape has more to do with being away from you than you being away from them. And so I must give you my confession. I hate to tell you these things Jack but they have been plaguing me for a few months now. Since March 1963 and it is now October, that's a lot of months to have the same nightmare isn't it Jack? I know it's my own fault that I have those nightmares. Or should I call them dreams because they are the roses that bloom from the seed of my anger and hurt toward you. I think of the things I could do to you and I dream about it. I have had so many dreams of me holding your head as it bleeds out into my hands and I think that I see roses, just like the roses in my garden coming out of your skull. For a moment it almost looks beautiful, but then the regret washes over me and I am scared to my bones that I will be next for some reason. Then I wake up screaming and crying but you don't know about those nightmares do you Jack? You aren't there to hold me when I wake up crying the way that I hold you in my dreams. Holding your head in my lap as I watch the life drain from your eyes. One day I fear it might actually happen, I pray it doesn't. I pray it doesn't.

Love,

Your Rose, Jackie