I'll Miss You Very Much

-Zacky’s POV-

Well, I always hated places like this. They always gave me the creeps. You know, goose bumps, shivers down the spine, cold chills—the works. I always feel like there’s someone watching my every move. I know that everyone here is six feet under, confined to a permanent enclosed bed, never to be heard from again, but cemeteries just have that eeriness about them.

Man, it’s only been a couple of months, but God, it feels like an eternity. We were all doing so well with our girls, and the tour was almost over. We only had two more shows, and then it was back to the studio to get started on our next album. Jimmy and Leana were doing really well, in fact, Leana had just found out she was six weeks pregnant. Jimmy couldn’t wait to tell all of us. We decided this was a good reason to go to the bar and celebrate, so I decided I’d drive and promised not to get drunk. I promised I’d only have a couple Bud’s early on, and then I’d be fine by the time we decided to leave. That’s exactly what I did, too.

Matt and I both had a couple beers; Johnny had a beer and some Jack; Brian had one of everything they offered, I think; and Jimmy had a couple Red Bulls and vodka, and a Bud. It was hard for me to see the Jack bottle behind the counter not being used a whole lot, but I knew I had made a promise, and I was going to stick to it.

We were only there about four hours, and we decided to head back to the hotel we were staying at. It was only a half-hour drive across town, but something went terribly wrong. All I remember was seeing the car’s headlights, the sound of the screeching tires, loud bang, glass shattering, and a scream coming from the passenger seat where Jimmy was sitting. Then I blacked out, and woke up in the hospital the following day.

I noticed that Gena was asleep by my bedside. She had a hold of my hand, and I gently rubbed my thumb across hers, thus causing her to come out of her dreaming state. She looked up at me and immediately started to cry. I asked her where everyone else was. She said Matt, Johnny, and Brian had all been treated for their minor injuries. This, for some reason, sounded strange to me, yet, I couldn’t place my finger on it. Then it dawned on me. She had left out Jimmy. I was hoping that she was going to continue on and tell me about him, but she didn’t. She just stopped. I could tell by the look on her face that she was trying to delay as long as possible to tell me about him. When she finally broke the awkward silence, she told me the impact had broken his neck and that he had died instantly.

I think my heart stopped beating for a good minute and a half from the shock. No. This can’t be happening. Surely she’s just playing an awful prank on me to get back at me for all the times I told her devastating news just to see what her reaction would be, only to later tell her I was joking and that her friend, mom, and grandparents were fine. Surely that’s what it was. Jimmy couldn’t really be gone. Not now. Life was too perfect. But she wasn’t joking. She started sobbing once again. That’s how I knew she wasn’t joking. She couldn’t make herself cry on cue, especially not with that amount of emotion. I couldn’t help but cry, myself. No, crying isn’t the word. I was balling like a little baby. Oh, my God. I killed my best friend.

About two hours later, I was released from the hospital. Gena and I went straight to the hotel. We immediately found our way to Matt and Valary’s room. Everyone was there; Johnny, Lacey, Brian, Michelle, Matt, Val, and Leana. Coming face-to-face with all of them was easier than I had thought. I was expecting evil glares, looks of shame, etcetera, but in all actuality, they welcomed me with open arms. They were all thankful and glad that I was okay. I felt awful, and knew I needed to somehow try my best to comfort Leana, but I really didn’t know what to say, or how she would feel about me comforting her. After all, I was the driver of the vehicle her fiancé was in when he died.

I walked over to Leana and sat next to her. We looked at each other and started to cry. I told her how sorry I was, and that I’d do anything she ever needed or wanted me to do for her; to make it up to her. She looked at me and smiled. She told me she was thankful for a friend like me, and that she’d take me up on that offer, but that I shouldn’t feel guilty about any of it. She told me it wasn’t my fault. Not my fault? How was it not my fault? I was the intoxicated one behind the wheel of a moving car. It had to be my fault that Jimmy was no longer alive. She had realized I was confused, and she told me that the other car had been traveling at a high speed, crossed the centerline, and crashed in to us before it had time to even try to swerve and miss a collision.

When she finished informing me of all this, I felt like a ten thousand ton weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was so happy it wasn’t my fault, yet so sad that it didn’t matter whose fault it was, Jimmy was still no longer with us. I could feel the tears rushing down my cheeks. I leaned in to give her a hug that I think lasted for a solid ten minutes before we broke away from one another’s grasp.

That whole week was filled with tears, as we had to break the news to the media, our fans, and our families. Not to mention attending his viewing and funeral services. He looked so peaceful.

The past couple of months haven’t been much easier, but we are making it through. Leana found out last week that she’s having a little boy. He’s going to be James Owen Sullivan, Jr., and with Jimmy’s genes running through his veins, I’m sure the little fucker is going to be a little hell-raiser. He’s going to be just like his dad. Hell, I bet if he could figure out a way, Jimmy would reincarnate himself as Jimmy Jr.

I haven’t been out to visit Jimmy since the day we buried him. It was just too hard. I finally mustered up the strength to come out here today just to “talk”. I never got the chance to say a real heart-felt goodbye, and I decided I was ready.

So, here I am kneeling beside the headstone that says:
James Owen Sullivan
February 10, 1981-August 12, 2006
I’m not quite sure of where to begin telling him goodbye, but a very tearful ‘I miss you, man!’ is as good a start as any.