If I Try (Lesbian Story)

Road To Nowhere

"The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time." -Mark Twain

Darkness. Loneliness. Pain. This never ending feeling of hopelessness. You would think that by now I would be ok. You would think that by now I could move on. You would think that by now I could breathe again. You would think. I might as well have been the one behind the wheel. I wish it would have been me. Let me tell you how in a matter of seconds my life changed forever.

Flashback
It started off as a normal Saturday in Spring. I was stretched lazily out in bed trying to fight waking up. My husband, Ethan, kissed me and rolled out of bed. "I'm picking up your mom and we are headed to Lowes."
"Fine, just don't spend a fortune on flowers, have fun babe" I said groggily. Eventually I got out of bed and went to the patio anticipating seeing Ethan and my mom 'playing in the yard' as I called it. They weren't outside. I ran to the front door, and the truck wasn't there either. It had been over two hours and they still weren't back. I checked my phone. Nope, no new messages or missed calls. Ugh I have a really sick feeling about this. What in the world is going on. I got my phone and called my mom and it went straight to voicemail. I called Ethan next and straight to voicemail. "He always answers his phone, what the hell?!" I called moms house phone and still there was no answer.

I guess I could drive by the house and then Lowes to see if they are still there. I quickly threw some sweat pants, flip flops and a t-shirt on, grabbed my keys and flew out the door. My stomach felt really tight and my hands started sweating, I knew something was really wrong. They weren't at my moms house and they weren't at the store. I decided to go to my house one more time and see if they made it yet. I took a different route this time coming back and as I rounded the curve I saw bits and pieces of a really bad wreck they were still picking up. The traffic was stopped and I looked to the side of the road and what I saw made my heart drop. It was the picture Ethan always kept of us in his truck along with tons of ripped apart flowers. I immediately drove to the hospital on autopilot, already knowing the answers to the questions I had in my gut.

Both my mom and Ethan were hit head on by a drunk driver and killed on the scene. The driver was killed also. He was some young college kid coming home from a fraternity party from the previous night. I didn't really care. The moment I saw the policeman in the hospital was the moment I stopped living. I felt my heart die inside me. I felt like the lowest scum alive. Because, I was alive. I lived, and they didn't. My worst fears were now reality, and I honestly didn't know what I was going to do.