I know that she is happy now, but that doesn't mean I don't miss her; her smile, her laugh. I see her, wanting her to know just how much I miss her. I know she sees me, but won't or can't talk to me. She hates me and its all my fault. I take one last look at her and walk away to silence. I grab the knife from my car and walk to the woods, not knowing that he is following me. As I take my last breath, so ready to end my life, he yells my name, rushing toward me. I dropped my death as he holds me in his arms. I now relize it's not her that I need in my life, but him, the one who always loved me even though I am so screwed up.