You left me. Alone. Shattered, broken and wondering what I had done wrong for this to happen to me. I received a phone call saying I would never see the twinkle in your eyes again. My heart sunk and I couldn’t breathe. I was working a golf tournament. I now hate golf. This had to be a joke, you had texted me not twelve hours ago. You apologized for an ongoing fight we were in and I was still angry. I didn’t reply. Then you were gone, in the blink of an eye. I felt like I could have stop it, the horrible choice you made and the consequences that followed hurt everyone around you. I should have been angry at you. I should have hated what you did. But I couldn’t be, I was mad at myself for letting it happen. I felt at fault for letting you fall so far, letting you think that was your only option. I cried for three days straight, in my room and alone, but to the outside world I was fine. I relived the moments we had together over and over. We were at church camp, you had all of the younger campers gang up on me with water guns and I ran for my life-laughing. I remember how you picked me up around the waist holding me so I couldn’t run away anymore. When your dad was the camp cook we loved to skip rest period by dancing in the kitchen to old country music and stealing ice cream out of the freezer that was meant for dinner. You made me laugh until I cried and I would never hear that laugh again. I should have been angry at you, but I wasn’t.

Since the morning of the call I had been angry at myself thinking I could have changed your mind if I had just answered your text. I could have called and talked you out of getting into that car. You were struggling, but everyone struggles. You made a choice that caused me to struggle. I struggled at the thought of your life on my hands. Your future and the life you could have had if I had just picked up the phone. I felt guilty because of a decision no one but you made. You got behind that wheel. You choose to handle your struggles differently that day. You wanted it all to end. I should have been angry at you, but I wasn’t.

I dealt with your death, the idea that I was the cause and carried that around with me for a year. An entire year any mention of you or anything we did together I felt sick to my stomach. I was emotionally unattached for an entire year and depression set in. Deep down I knew it wasn’t my fault, you were the one that made those choices. To drink and drive. Risking your life. You were always on the adventurous side and it eventually caught up to you. I dealt with that pain for an entire year until I eventually let it pass. You were gone and there was nothing I could do about it but miss you. Which I do, everyday. I should be angry at you, but I’m not. I use our story to remind others that life is short and unwise decisions you make today, like drinking and driving, can cause others pain they can’t begin to imagine. I miss you every day dear friend and I hope you are watching over me because heaven knows I need it.