I was so young when I first saw you, and truly believed that all was fair in love and war. Your smile was like the sun coming out, even as it poured with rain. It’s a thunderstorm now, as I drown the world in my sorrows. Unbelievable, that I could be watching as your body is carried down the road, and lowered into the ground. I have aged so much these past nine years and I am not a naive little girl anymore.

1989. The magical year that will be marked off on my internal calendar forever. It’s impossible to forget the feeling of freedom that you gave me, the sensation I will never feel again. Even in the dark I could feel your glow, the saving grace that rescued me and would eventually be your downfall. It started out as coffee, then became the greatest fairy-tale ever written. Boy meets girl, they fall in love, and then spend eternity in happiness.

But I guess it wasn’t meant to be. For three years we lived in harmony and were so close to that story. Then I ruined it forever. The next three years were cold and meaningless. I don’t even know why I did it, to make you feel that way. Maybe that naive little girl thought that she could do whatever she wanted or maybe I’m never meant to be happy, only to sabotage myself. After three years I finally learned my lesson, and sought forgiveness.

You and your kindness gave it, for another three years. I tried so hard not to make a mistake, as we were aiming for perfection. But perfection doesn’t exist and it might not have even been good enough. I didn’t do anything wrong, yet maybe I could have done more right. For the next three years we were returned to that fairy-tale and even ready to be married. You were the perfect groom, and I tried everything to be the perfect bride. I gave everything to us, and now I’m running on empty.

It was the week before that white wedding I’d always dreamed of, when a new nightmare entered my life. Was it me that killed you? If you forgave me, higher powers didn’t, because a week ago you were taken from me. People will be sympathetic but I will always carry that survivors guilt-maybe if you hadn’t died it could have been me. We always pity the dead, yet the living are the true victims. The emotion was worse than that of a true break-up, we were forcibly ripped apart and the intercision left me raw.

Cradling your head in my hands, I wept over your calm face. You will never know tragedy as I do. A car accident. It sounds so quick, painless and not serious. Unless you experience one you can’t understand it. I was driving that car, the Range Rover-N1JH 63T-that murdered you. Oil on the road and rain: a killer combination, as was me and a car and a tree. The bonnet crushed, I screamed and you shot forwards. I always said not wearing your seatbelt would come back to haunt you, but you just laughed. “What’s the worst that could happen?” I think I know. How ironic that the rain that brought you to me would take you away.

The blood from your head wound stained my hands, and I haven’t been able to wash it off, not in my mind. Your life will always be mine, and the loss my fault. If anyone wanted to punish me, they succeeded. And if this was my fairy-tale life, then it’s some kind of bliss.

1998. I’m sat on a stone floor, unable to get up as my heart pulls me down. I’m all in black, not because it’s a funeral but because every colour has disappeared-I wouldn’t even see them any more. When your last breath came, it sucked the colour from my world, my last gift to you. I tear off the black veil I’m wearing; all it does is hide my tears.

I dyed my wedding dress black. Isn’t it funny how the day that was supposed to bring us together forever is separating us. This was meant to be my wedding day, as your mum said “we already booked the church”. Why not twist the knife a little harder? I mean, if I didn’t have to survive I could be reunited with you. No. Those who survive are the stronger ones, and I couldn’t show any more weakness. I will be strong for you and never cause any more heartbreak.

Mascara trails down my face as I make a final attempt to appear presentable in the mirror. I look like a victim. Good. I feel like one. That shared life is further behind me with every step I take towards your final resting place. I bend down, unable to speak except a tearful “I love you”, and then lay flowers on the grass. Forget-me-not, orchids and roses; they were always our favourites. I’ll never be able to look at them again.

Despair sets in as I drive away, alone. This time I’ll be faithful, whatever future I foresee. That night I dreamt of you, as I held my pillow tight, still smelling of you. Your clothes are in the wardrobe, and your love in the air. Desperate for the last sensations of you, I wear your suit jacket as a dressing gown, over your baggy t-shirt and my jeans. Sleep doesn’t come easily, but at least you are there to meet me. I saw your face smiling down and woke up with fresh tears running down my face.

A week has passed, and seven more dreams of you later, I think about the honeymoon we should be on right now. Unable to face it alone, I let my parents go instead and stayed home, trying to get over you. It’s no use. There’s no getting over you. I haven’t eaten in days; all I’ve done is look at your face in every photograph I could find. They are all stuck up on the wall and I know they’ll stay there all time. My senses are numb, and I don’t feel like I’m here anymore. How could I ever be over you?
Nine years, and I have grown. We may not have been destined for the fairy-tale, but we nearly achieved it. Or maybe we were and I managed to destroy our efforts. I still hear a screech, a crash and a cry when all goes quiet. I keep thinking, if you’d never forgiven me you would be alive and well. Your kindness was your destruction, and I was the source. You might not be around here, but our love will know no end. I couldn’t ever be with anyone else.

I miss you every second of the day, and all I can think of is ending this torment. But I vowed to be strong, and strong I will be until those higher powers say I have served my sentence. And as for rain, it is permanent. The water will always fall for me, and when it does rain for real nobody can see my tears.