Keep in mind: there's people dying in this one, so if grief or mentions of death bother you, don't read this.
It was Thursday evening, and I waited for my girlfriend, Billie, to come home. I had just returned from a long walk, contemplating our relationship. Billie had been distant due to work, promising to spend more time together, but weeks passed with no change. The once caring Billie seemed altered, a shift I attributed to her stressful life. I wanted to help, but her reluctance left me powerless. She acknowledged her coldness, assuring she'd be kinder, but the effort seemed minimal.
I, prone to overthinking, heard the front door slam as Billie returned, her mood palpably strained. Sensing my potential to worsen things, I retreated into my thoughts. Amidst the mental struggle and Billie's yelling, a tear escaped, soon followed by a cascade. Amidst the turmoil, one thought halted time: 'This is not my Billie.' It freed me from my headspace, and Billie retreated to the bedroom. Feeling unwelcome, I decided on another walk, craving solace despite the recent one.
Before leaving, I wanted to inform Billie, to ease her worries. After calming down, I gently knocked on the bedroom door. Billie, annoyed, opened it, raspy from yelling. "Yes?" she uttered tersely. "Hey, Billie, I'm going for a walk," I replied, wanting comfort but met with annoyance. "Okay, (y/n), don't be late," she said, and as I stood there, yearning for a hug, I asked hesitantly, "Do you still love me?" She didn't answer, and though I thought it might be for the best, she whispered, "I loved you." That was enough for me to leave with glassy eyes.
I wandered aimlessly in the rain, grappling with an internal conflict. Hours passed, and unbeknownst to me, Billie woke up, worried. It was 2 am, and with calls unanswered, panic set in. Eventually, a police officer answered, delivering the tragic news of a fatal accident involving a drunk driver.
Billie blamed herself, drowning in guilt from the hospital to the funeral. At your graveside, she shattered internally, realizing she lost you. Unable to reach your spirit, she understood you were gone forever. Standing at the funeral, she broke down fully, mourning the loss of her angel.
Upon returning home, exhausted and grief-stricken, Billie chose a path of no return. With whiskey and a cigarette, she bid farewell to life, leaving behind a smile, content in the belief that she'd spend the afterlife with you, proving your significance to her.
