Goku...how are you? Nice to see you back; in fact, it's amazing to see you back. How was the afterlife? I hope not too grand becuase we'd like to keep you here on Earth for a while. I mean, we did, after all, miss you.

I don't know what to say, actually. It's been so long living without you, breathing without you that I no longer know how to react around you. I would doubt that the term husband and wife even applied to us anymore. Seven years is a long time for lovers to be parted, possibly even longer for a father and his son, but Goten is not what I wanted to talk about in this letter.

Maybe it's because these years without you have changed me, but I'm not sure whether I can call myself your adoring wife anymore. I can't get enough of you, but nor can I stand you. It's like a wave of overwhelming emotion stands between us, a barrier that's formed over so many years.

The truth is, Goku, I don't know how to break that wall down again. I'm scared to, actually. Scared to know you again, fall in love with you again, and be hurt all over again. And Kami knows how many times I've questioned whether that's worth it or not.

Yet for all those times you've hurt me, I've stood by you or waited for you or fought for you. No matter how tough it got, I always thought it was all worth it for our family.

Or maybe it wasn't worth it. My continuous journey to make Gohan a scholar eventually paid off, but the repression I often pushed upon him was seen everywhere. In his fighting, in his speech, everything. Now that I look back, I somewhat regret my actions. You see, I wanted to protect him, keep him from becoming what you were: a man owned by the world.

I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. Perhaps, the years of bitterness are finally beginning to come down on me. Yes, Goku, I'm bitter, and angry, at that. I'm bitter for all those times you left me alone while I prayed for you, for all those times I fought and suffered while you came out unscathed, and, most of all, I'm bitter for the way the boys clung to you despite the adoration and time I poured into their lives.

Again, I'm sorry. Another hurtful set of words, but I can't say there won't be more of those in this letter, like the one about to come up now.

I often wondered what would have happened had I married another man. Would my life be better? Would my children love me more and not look back with their own anger upon the days of their studies? Would they be proud of not just their father but their mother as well?

In all chaos of the life we "shared," never once did I have the chance to find the answers to these questions. Can't say I never was tempted to try it and see (in other words, Goku, I thought about being with other men), but my father's cautious words and my own heart's sense of justice and love refused to allow me that chance.

Then I lost you again, and the world came tumbling down once more. I struggled, I really did. I struggled through seven years to be both loving father and mother, to live up to what you would have been, even though our son Goten's eyes would always shine with those unsurfaced tears when we spoke of you.

In essence, I failed you.

Upon the day of your return, your son was shy to see you, and my own heart beat with troublesome rhythm that foretold that things had seriously changed.

When I look at you, I see a man, not a husband. A stranger, not a lover. Idly, I wonder if we'll be able to make it.

Take a moment and think with me. When was the last time we sat together in the mid-morning sun, an unshakable sense of peace and reigning righteousness flowing over us as we rested against one another, my hair seeping through your playful hands. What about days where we picnicked together by the lake while you and the boys fished? Or, even then, when was the last time we made love with that old sensation of familiarity around us?

The old flame is still there, an imprisoning love that forever binds us, but we don't know each other anymore. Even you've changed, no longer as happy-go-lucky carefree that you once were. The weight of the world has finally began to burden our shoulders, and I'm not sure whether we can carry the load alone.

I could never have told you all this face to face. That's why I wrote the letter in the first place. I wonder if I'll ever send it...

I love you, Son Goku, and will do so with all my heart to the rest of eternity, and, deep in my own heart, I know you feel the same. But through all this, one question plagues me above all others.

Where do we go from here?

Your loving wife,

Chichi