It’s been two years.

Driving home that day, I remember the phone call.

Stuck in traffic so I answered.

The words that rang in my ears and stole my breath.

My heart hammering in my chest, my face hot.

The tears of shock prickling my eyes.

I don’t remember getting home.

I remember the numb shock and disbelief.

And then the guilt.

The guilt that never leaves. The guilt that is never quiet. The guilt that I didn’t ask if you were okay. The guilt that I didn’t call, I didn’t text.

I didn’t know what was wrong.

I’ve cried for you so many times.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there.

I’m sorry you couldn’t see what everyone else could see.

I hope you made the right choice

but mostly,

I hope that you are at peace.

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