I always had a knack for destroying things -- that's what my mother used to say to me. "God, is there anything you won't fuck up?" I used to laugh at that notion. It was true -- every single thing in my life I wrecked. Whether it was objects or relationships, I could screw them up like the best of them. It never used to bother me, because honestly there was never anything that actually meant something to me.

That was until I met you. You were standing at the bus stop, cursing to yourself trying to find your bus pass when I walked up. You were in a rush I guess, vulnerable and in perfect need of a charming guy to save you. So in came me, the always ever amazing cocky jackass.

"Here." I said as I held out my hand with some spare change, giving you my saves-the-day smile. "This should cover the fare."

You looked up at me with suspicious eyes. "It's alright." You said as you turned back to your purse, yet again in search of your pass.

"Are you sure? The bus should be here any moment and I don't want you missing it just because you won't accept some money from me." I said ever so smoothly, I knew what I was doing. I had done this routine a dozens of times before and it always managed to get me a one night stand or two. But no, you had to go and break that cycle.

Looking up at me again you sighed. "No it's ok; I really don't need this right now."

"Need what?" I asked.

"An oh-so-amazing guy like you to come in and help me out, only to expect more later. I know you're type."

"My type?" I questioned. "Is that so?"

I could hear the bus coming and you still hadn't found your pass. "Tell you what -- I'll pay your fare as long as you explain to me how you know my type."

I could see you weighing out your possibilities, should you skip this bus ride, or possibly accept the cocky jerks offer. Still to this day I don't know why you accepted, but I'm glad you did.

On the bus you explained to me how your ex was "my type" a player. A heartless guy who loved lining up and knocking down girls like bowling pins. He was set in his ways and never going to change, and even though he had promised you a thousand times to stop cheating he never did. Finally after that one girl had that pregnancy scare you decided to get out of that relationship.

We kept on talking, up until the point I had missed where I was getting off by 3 stops and that's when I knew I had to see you again. I was intrigued, I was taken and from that moment on I was yours.

Over time you and I slowly built a relationship. It took you awhile to trust me, you didn't want your heart broken and I didn't want to break it. One of the many things you taught me was patience. I never had that before, but for you I would wait forever. Because no matter how long I had to wait, it was always worth it.

I hated being away from you though. I never cared where the hell I was and what I was doing, just as long as I was with you.

"Guess what." You said at the beach. You had your hands up above your head and were twirling around in a circle a few feet in front of me.

"What?" I asked as I poked the sand with a stick.

"I-" you said as you stopped twirling and faced me. You looked at me for a moment, your beautiful eyes gazing at me. You stepped into another twirl in my direction, coming to a stop in front of me. "Love you!" you exclaimed as your wrapped your arms around me and gave me a kiss.

Our kiss broke and I wrapped my arms around you, burying my face into your neck. "I love you too." I whispered. And fuck did I ever.

Nothing could ever come between us, ever. I was never going to give you up. You were my world, my sun and my stars. You were my life.

You and me, me and you. That's how it was always supposed to be, until just like everything else in my life I fucked it up. I went to that party, the one you couldn't go to because you were gone to your cousins. I had too many beers for the first time in a long time you were the last thing on my mind.

To be honest I didn't even know the girls name, the one who I slept with. The one I used to fuck up our relationship. I didn't even know her fucking name.

Telling you was the hardest fucking thing I've ever done. Your eyes that were once so full of happiness had been overcome with sorrow -- and I was to blame. I hated watching you cry and I would do anything to make those tears stop, but this time I couldn't. This time I was the one who caused them, it tore me up inside to know it was my fault.

"I trusted you." You sobbed. "I trusted you, I trusted you, I trusted you . . ." you said over and over like it was the only thing you could muster up the strength to say.

You screamed that night, you broke a few things. You cried and you yelled. You kneeled over in tears and sobbed so much that your body began to shake so violently that it scared me. I had never in my life seen someone in so much pain.

After a few minutes you stood up, and stumbled around. Your whole body was still shaking as you grabbed your purse and headed for the front door.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Away from you." you hissed as you headed out the front door.

I spent the rest of the night in the same chair I was in when you left. Trying to decide if I should call you or not. We needed to sort things out, but I knew you needed some time to cool off.

Just as I was about to grab the phone it rang, the ID said it was your house. Relief overcame me; but it was short lived.

You died that night on your way home; you were on that stupid street you hated because it was so narrow. According to reports it was your car that lost control, but luckily you died instantly. You didn't feel any pain -- except for your broken heart.

I shouldn't have let you leave that night; I should've known that you weren't in any condition to drive. But you did anyways.

It's been a year since your death. One whole fucking year, and the pain that I have hasn't gotten any better. Everyone keeps saying that it will, but it hasn't. Every moment is a nightmare and to know that I will never have you in my arms again, it's just too much to handle.