First and foremost, I would like to thank Bre'Na Wells for the title to this story. I was stuck and she gave me the best idea yet.
Now unto the story.
I remember it as though it was yesterday. The summer’s heat was seeping into our bones through our open pores and he was still here with me. Continuously told me that he was so in love with me, but he was sorry for what was to come. If only I knew then what I know now, I would have left him, left them, left there as soon as possible. I would have looked around for the emergency exit before having considered pressing the panic button. But unfortunately, I wasn’t as aware as I should have been. Within 24 hours of telling me what he wanted from me, he left without warning. I could blame God for taking him away so soon, but it wouldn’t be fair on God for he obviously knew that his time was limited and failed to tell me. Now I’m lost with nowhere to go, no one to turn to and a life of hell ahead of me.
My friends try to console me each day, but even a year later I still feel that it was my fault he died. If only I cared more I would have been able to tell that something wasn’t right with him. If only I hadn’t been so caught up in my own world, I would have been able to spend more time. But now he is gone and all that I’m left with is memories of him and a child. His child.