Where Our Lines Cross

Life is overrated. People expect there to be confetti and rainbows, as soon as you get to 18. There was confetti. Instead all I got was a dead friend, and self blame. Just enough to make me leave. Leave me home, my family, my friends. Beacon Hills was my everything, I thought that I was always gonna be nearby, but I guess things change.
Instead of staying in Beacon Hills, I moved to New York. Crazy I know, but life moves on, and apparently so does New York. I've been living in New York for a few years now, and I still am not used to the loud noises. You can always hear honking of cars, and the yelling of the native new Yorkers.
When I lie awake at night, all I can really think about, is what it would be like for her. What would have happened if she hadn't died, ya know? Like imagine the possibilities. I would be at her and my best friends wedding, or maybe we both might have moved out here, and maybe shared an apartment.
All I know is that her life was taken from her way too soon, and that I am the one to blame.