To whom it may concern:

I am reaching out because I'm feeling deeply unsettled and in need of assurance that I'm not losing my mind. However, if it turns out that I am indeed insane, I’m prepared to confront it. But if not, other steps need to be taken. I want to avoid making any snap decisions I might regret later on.
Let me elaborate—
About six months ago, I found myself dialing 911 in a state of panic. My body quivered, and my stomach churned with anxiety, as I stared out at the morning sunlight, waiting for someone to answer. Even though my mind felt blank, I struggled to articulate my concerns to the woman who eventually picked up the phone.
"I... My husband is missing!" I managed to stammer out, my voice trembling.
After providing my name and address, I slipped into autopilot, recounting how my husband Daniel had vanished the previous night and had not returned.
The police arrived and began an investigation. They questioned me for hours on every detail of his life from the day we met to the night he never came home. The officers were very caring and compassionate about my welfare, allowing me the comfort of my own home to give my statement.
“Daniel and I had gotten along fine. Sure, we had our little tiffs, but nothing ever escalated to the point of him leaving me,” I whimpered.
For the next few weeks, the authorities had teamed up with the Neighborhood Watch to form search parties. Daniel was well-liked in the community, it seemed like the whole town had nothing better to do. They combed every area, every nook and cranny, and never found a single piece of evidence. Nobody had any knowledge of him talking about leaving town or anything.
Both of our families were devastated, but at least they still had each other. I have nobody now. Since I was the last to see him, I can only assume, they all think I have some missing piece of information I’m not telling. If they only knew how lonely I have become…
Recently, the police call updates grew less frequent, until eventually stopping altogether. I felt the pain cement in my chest as I watched Daniel’s missing posters being taken down or papered over with the newest missing people. My husband became another trend lost in popularity to make room for the next fad. It was then I realized...