written 6/24/07 at 1am-1:40am

A piece of me died that day, I remember. I remember, but I didn't want to. Who would want to? I couldn't believe it, but had to face the facts. She was gone. I truly feel it wasn't her time, but she obviously thought so. Since that day, I don't seem to operate the same. As if I'm a computer or a car, and someone removed a vital part like a hard drive or engine. But it was my sense of peace that was taken.

How could she go and do something like that? What drove her to feeling that she needed to disappear? What numbed her to such an extent that she felt the need to erase herself from the world forever? From my life? I know, that sounds selfish. But so is what she did. She'll never know how many tears were shed when the news came to them. It was almost countless. I'm sure she expected us to smile and move on with our lives.

I remember just minding my own business, reading a book. She'd come up to me, as if sneak-attacking me from behind. I can still feel her warm, moist breath on the back of my neck, how I smiled… How she smiled. I knew I'd finally made her happy. I remember she used to tell me she made no difference in the world and that she could disappear and no one would care. Those words pained me. So I tried making her the happiest girl in the world. But I guess that wasn't enough.

I developed shakes. People say they can be called tremors or they ask if I have Parkinson's. I know it's just because everything seems to remind me of her. Those shakes are loosening and soon fading, unlike my memory of her. I'm glad now I can hold a cigarette without nearly dropping it. When I came home that day, seeing her on the couch, I thought she was asleep, finding it strange. The 911 call…a blur. She was usually there to welcome me home from work. Her eyes were blank. Her skin was cold. All of the ibuprofen was gone. I've had headaches since.

The sobs were loud at her funeral. They cried, "Why did you leave us? We loved you," as if she is really going to hear it. Since that day, I no longer believe in heaven or hell. I don't believe in God. I don't believe in love or humanity. My life since her has been spent in isolation, depression, and silence. I packed up and left. I left her things behind, even the pictures. I didn't even tell the apartment manager I was leaving. Yep, I just up and left.

I stare blankly at the television set. I don't regard anything my boss slurs to me at work. I don't waste my breath on phone calls. My family and friends gave up on coming through to me. No one would want to keep trying and failing with someone as stubborn as I. I've rotted in my self-pity and I've wasted away.

And I say to myself, "This must be how she felt." I miss her body bent over mine. Her beauty. The way her hair smelled of the strange, but alluring, scent of vanilla laced with tobacco. I miss her teeth, nibbling on my ear, my lip. I yearn for her sweet notes she'd write me while I was sleeping, for me to read in the morning while I was getting ready for work the next day.

I wish to ask you all the why's. Why did you feel no one loved you? I do, I still do. Why didn't you tell me how empty you felt inside? Why didn't you tell me how depressed you were? I feel like it's all my fault, like I could've fixed it. But I know I couldn't fix t. I could help but…

But you're gone.

A piece of me died that day. That piece was you. And you killed it. You killed me, too.