There's not much to say, except that I'm sorry.
I've said it enough, yet feel as if I haven't.
There is no way to replace what that little girl has lost, and I am to blame for that. And as much as tell myself accidents happen, i can't seem to forgive myself, and the more I try, the more i remember, and who wants to remember that?
Who wants to sit and wallow in the sound of metal colliding, and the look on his face as he lay there; motionless?
who wants to go through that overandoverandover again to simply forgive oneself?
I'd rather forget than face it, but it's never going to go anywhere, and the sooner i convince myself of that, the better off I'll be.
I haven't written, because it's all the same: lights, sounds, smells, visions all from the same night one year ago, and I CANT SEEM TO END THESE IMAGES!
if this isn't hell, it's close enough.
I'm pleading silently for it to just end.
it's catasrophic, and i can't stop it.
