I never noticed how
beautiful the stars are until now, as my
blood mingles with the
water. I'm probably
concussed, or whatever a
doctor would call it. I never had occasion to research the effects of a
head wound from a
car crash, but the
firsthand experience is interesting, if a tad
unpleasant. It probably doesn't matter, now. It's stopped hurting, and
that's never a good sign.
She never really loved me, I think, just
pretended. I wanted it badly, oh so badly, though. Badly enough that I thought it might be a good idea to go driving out in the rain after her.
I thought I could plead to her, tell her how much I loved her, tell her that I'd always love her. I thought I could
convince her to stay with me always.
I got
silence and
the finger.
And wet. Can't forget
wet.
Not only that, I got distracted, and paid little attention to a road I've known since I was a little kid. Funny, isn't it, how a
little thing like your heart
breaking can keep you from noticing a
gentle curve in a road until you jump the sloping curb and slam into a
telephone pole.
Mr. Barton's going to be pissed in the morning. He
telecommutes.
So she dragged me out into the street, and I know I'm never leaving this spot. All I can see, even with her there, is the stars. How
beautiful they are...