Dear Meg,

sixteen

[ November 10 2015 ]

Dear Meg,

I woke up with cold sweat drenching my entire body this morning.

And a thumping heart, that beats guilt. I felt flushed, like I had just hung my head upside down and had all of my blood rushed to my brain.

I dreamt of it again, Meg.

Of that night when Mark had too much to drink and called me.

When I was on top of you with my head buried in the crook of your neck instead.

When my phone had gone off for at least 3 times.

When I chose to place my hand on your thigh instead of on the phone.

When I chose not to answer Mark's call.

When I got a call from a man saying that Mark had gotten into an accident.

When the doctor told my family that Mark had a cerebral hemorrhage.

When mom couldn't stop her tears from flowing.

When I saw Mark's pale face for the last time.

When I pushed you away.

When I blamed it all on you for Mark's death.

And especially, when I saw the hurt in your eyes and the tears running down your cheeks.

Love, Dylan