The Cowboy that saved me.

Mark

Please vote and comment to tell me what you think!! :). Lexi_k99

Okay...i guess I should tell you about mark. You'll hear his name mentioned quite a bit.

He was my boyfriend. We grew up together. He was my next door neighbor, and our parents were best friends. So it was only natural when we became really close friends.

We hung out all the time. And in middle school, he helped me through a rough patch, when my grandma died. I was really close to her. She was my rock and my best friend as well. When she died, I didn't want to talk to anyone. I didn't want to do anything. I even pushed a lot of people away. I was pretty much digging my own hole.  But mark stayed right there with me trough it all. We actually started dating seventh grade.

I loved him so much. He was always there for me, and he was such a sweetheart. If we got into an argument and i wouldn't talk to him, he would come and make me talk to him. Which sounds weird, but it wasn't. It made our relationship a lot stronger.
He sat outside my house for hours so he could give me some random chocolate he picked up from the gas station, knowing I'd forgive him.
About a year and a half. Closer to two years ago, he was on his way to see me. He was coming back from a hunting trip down in Mississippi. A truck wasn't paying attention and rammed right into him. Mark tried to get out of the way. It just wasn't possible. It was either get hit by the truck or fall off the cliff.

He was in the hospital for two months. On life support. I didn't leave the hospital once. He had to make it. He just had to.

About a week later, the hospital decided it was time to take him off. The next day was his funeral. They wanted me to speak, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead I wrote him a letter. And put it in his casket before they buried him. That was the hardest thing to watch besides him in the hospital. Him being buried in the ground. Forever. I'm never going to see him. I can't touch him, kiss him, feel him, look into his eyes. nothing.

After the funeral I went into zombie mode. I didn't talk to anyone. All of my free time was spent at the graveyard. After about a year, I finally started to talk and​ hang out with people again. I even went to a few football games. But I still cry myself to sleep a lot. And every time marks name comes up, I can't help but smile and try not to cry at the same time. I still visit his grave every now an again. I think about him all the time. The world was a brighter place with him and his smile.