Death of a Rose

“Will you be coming over?” I ask.
“I want to see you. . .” he starts. “But how about you come hang out with me and my friends?”
“I thought we were hanging out, just me and you?”

I’m a little upset. We’ve hardly spent time just me and him alone together.

“I was about to leave and head over to Johnny’s.”
“You told me you wanted to hang out then you make plans to be with other people, fine.”

I hang up in his face.
No call back.
7 hours of checking my phone for a text, or phone call from the boy that I love.
But there’s nothing at all.
My phone doesn’t buzz or ding for any reason at all.
The last conversation I had with him was an argument.

Around 9pm I went for a drive to keep my mind occupied and refrain from calling him.
I wanted him to know I was still upset and wasn’t going to break down and call him back, he needed to call me first.
I was driving in my car my parents bought me for my 17th birthday, a red Toyota Camry 1999. I was sitting at a red light and when it turned green, while in the intersection that's when I got hit by a drunk driver head on who was in the wrong lane going 70 miles per hour.
The impact crushed me, I died instantly.
The boy who killed me was Jimmy Cruise.
Jimmy Cruise was my boyfriend of 4 years, the boy who didn’t call me back because he was drunk.

I forgive Jimmy, I know he’s sorry.
I know that if he could change it he would.
I know that if he could switch places with me; give me my life back and take his own he would.
I feel bad for him.
I just hope my family’s not too hard on him. I hope his own family isn’t either.
And I hope he won’t be too hard on himself.
It was stupid of him to go out driving while drunk.
That I don’t forgive him for, but I do forgive him for killing me.