Losing Her

I sit on my bed staring blankly at my phone, just waiting for her to call me even though I know it would not happen. The one person that made me happy passed away, three days ago, after a drunk driver hit her on the freeway, but it was still my fault. Why didn’t you stop her before it was too late? I walk over to my computer where the picture of me and her at the Christmas party last year was on my screen.

“I’m sorry Sue. I wish I told you that before you died. But I’m too late.” Damn it Lee why did you have to be so horrible to her!?

“I miss you so much. I miss the way you would smile at my crappy jokes, or the way you would slyly smile whenever you would have a surprise for me that I never deserved. I should never have gotten drunk and said those horrible things to you.” I go back to my bed and start sobbing to myself as the memories started to flood me. It’s your fault Lee. If you didn’t get drunk she wouldn’t have ran off on you.

“Why didn’t I stop you and tell you that I didn’t mean those horrible things I said to you? I never meant it when I said you used me, that you pity me, or that you treated me like trash. I know