And got so far,
But in the end,
I had to fall,
And lose it all.
But in the end,
It doesn't even matter.
~Linkin Park, In The End
She was beautiful. Perfect. I was sure she was the one for me: we loved each other. I loved her more than the world, and would have done anything for her.
She was so delicate, like a blossom. Gentle, kind, passionate…
But I threw it all away. Why? I ask myself that question a lot. Why did I do it? Why trade in half an hour of pleasure for a lifetime of ecstacy?
I don't know the answer to that one. Why I did it is beyond my comprehension. All I know is that I was weak.
I had an affair.
The guilt was unbelievably terrible. I carried it on my shoulders, like a ton of bricks. It made me stagger, and fall down. This one thing, something that seemed trivial, crushed her more than I knew.
I'd admitted it, and watching those tears slide down her soft cheeks had made me hurt more than anything.
She was like a soft flower. Something so small, so fragile, yet so perfect. She didn't have a single flaw that I could see. But I had to go and ruin her.
She had screamed, shouted, and cried. I wish I'd never had the power to hurt her in the first place. I think I broke her heart.
I never intended it to end like this: I pictured us growing old together, sharing a grave. Lots of kids.
I thought she'd taken it ok, until I heard the news. She was found dead in her apartment. A single bullet embedded deeply in her head. Her wrists were slit. And she'd taken a whole bottle of sleeping pills.
I'd destroyed her. She had wanted to be dead so badly. She had made sure that she'd not survived. Shot herself, slit her own wrists, and taken an overdose. Why?
I try to convince myself that it wasn't me. I tried to talk to her, but she slammed the door in my face. Yet I know, deep down, that I am responsible.
So I go from bar to bar, drinking away my sorrows. That doesn't work. When I am awake, every single thing I see reminds me of her. Everything I do, she's there, eyes fixed on me. In my dreams I see her, crying.
There's only one way to apologise. I have one last chance, and I thank the Planet for that.
Picking up a gun, I open my mouth. Wedging the barrel between my teeth, tilted slightly, I place my finger on the trigger. Perfect aim. One shot and I'll be dead, that's certain.
Cringing slightly, I apply pressure slightly to the little black button that will take my life.
I don't even hear the bang.
But I don't mind. I am with her, eternally. In the Lifestream. I suppose in this place, there is no bitterness, no grudges. She's forgiven me, and I am happy.
Author's Notes: That was very depressing. I actually wrote this when in a very gloomy mood. I like writing about unnamed, unknown characters. I also like writing angsty stuff. Any reviews would be appreciated, and flames amuse me greatly ^_~
