This will be a very hard part to write. I know deep inside that I could have done one very simple thing the night Steve died that would have saved his life. But I didnt. I walked away from him, waved at him while he sat in the window of the second floor of a chicks place we were staying at, and got in Cathys car.
"Are you sure you arent going anywhere?" I remember specifically asking.
"Nope, just gonna hang out here" I also remember.
But thats the end of the story, the beginning is a far better picture.
1 comment:
Dont feel like you are invading something. I put this on the net knowing full well that people might see it and say something. I appreciate any comments you want to make. Truly. Its always easier to see from the outside looking in.
I just felt that because him and I had been together nearly every day for months and months, and then that one night... I left, and he died. I guess I know I didnt let him die, but it feels like it.
He trusted me so much I guess, that in my heart I felt like that meant I was supposed to protect him from that jerk that got him killed. I guess it goes back to feeling like there is a lesson in all this... I thought I learned that lesson with Steves death, and then Ben happened. So apparently I didnt learn enough. So instead of yelling why me??? I figured it was best to try to sort it out, lay it out, and find out what I might have missed. Does that make sense?
Thank you for all your comments Jess. It does help. Im a debater at heart I guess. The more I roll it around the more I can see.
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