I don't know if I'm over thinking again or if I finally figured out the truth. What if I could have made things different, had you still here; breathing. Alive. Dammit it's been about five years since you died and I still can't get thoughts of you out of my mind. Now I have this ridiculous, crazy idea that it was all because of me, what I said. Maybe it's not crazy though. Maybe it's rational.
If I hadn't broken you that last time then who knows, maybe you wouldn't have that crazy idea to risk your life to save another. Maybe you'd think, "this is gonna kill me I shouldn't do so". But you didn't and part of me believes that was my fault, because I broke you. I told you I hate you, I gave you a look so heart wrenching you had broke down in tears as I walked away like you meant nothing to me, when you meant everything. A week later you were dead and I hadn't believed it until the big hand hit 10, my hands were shaking uncontrollably and I couldn't tell if I was to wake up the next morning from how light-headed I was. The next week I was standing in front of your casket, dressed in all black. Your body was there but it was not full of life, it was taken away. You didn't even resemble a smile, you frowned so hard it hurt because your smile was always the brightest. Your face, it was plastered in make-up, so fake, so not like you. And I thought; "be careful of what you say to the ones you love"
