It should have been me.

It's been over three years since I last spoke to the best friend I ever had. Yet, why do I still think about him day in and day out? Will the grief ever end? Will I ever stop blaming myself?
I didn't push him in front of the train; he put himself there. But even his family blamed me; his friends blamed me; people at other schools know me as "that girl."
"That girl." "That girl" that broke his heart. I didn't mean to. I didn't want to lie to him; I didn't want to sacrifice the love I had for him as a friend. He was like a big brother, the one I could tell everything to, the one who would protect me if anyone would ever try to hurt me.
I didn't mean to let him down. I didn't mean to hurt him. Maybe I overreacted when he told me he had to distance himself from me. I took the wrong approach. I took a sign of what was going to happen, and laughed it off. How could I do such a thing?
Three years later, I'm sitting in my dorm room. I got to get my license. I got to graduate. I got to go to college.
Maybe that should have been me in front of that train.
I mean, I did tell him I'd do it if he ever did.

rip chrispy.
9.20.08

SIDENOTE : ***I'm not going to.***