CRASH. ACCIDENT. I’M SORRY

It is a dreadful 2 days of my life, my love. No talk. No conversation. Not even a Hi or Hello, Good Morning or Good afternoon or Good night. Nothing, my love, nothing. I see you, I am seeing you, my love. Crying, distraught, devastated, destroy. I am sorry, terribly sorry, my love. I was rushing, utterly frantic and in a hurry. Last year that day, you said yes. Together, we have been ever since, together in love, passionately in love. I didn’t saw it, my love. My attention was divided. I was driving to our meeting place, to our dinner celebration, a reservation I had a week ago, the ring I’m holding fell, it slipped my fingers as I’m admiring it and imagining it on your finger. On my car floor, it lay, I searched for it, fearing it’ll be covered with dust and ground. I’m worried it’ll lost its glitter. I’m worried it’ll lost it’s beauty, its radiance, its luster. I had it, my love, the ring, I had it and when I looked at the road, I’m blinded with the truck’s headlight. I swerved to avoid it, my love. But I was too late, the truck was only inches from me, only inches, my love. I’m sorry, terribly sorry, my love. My body didn’t made it, but my soul did. I’m looking at you now, my love. It’s so hard, I’m here and I can’t talk to you. Frustration, I’m in pain. I want to hug you, to comfort you, but I can’t. I can’t do anything, but only witness you suffer, damaged that my body’s laying on a metallic bed, lifeless, dead.