Hes been acting really distant lately.
Always out with his girlfriend.
The days have been the same for me.
Eat, sleep, cry, eat, sleep, wake up crying, etc.
Hes been staying over lately.
Its just been me and our empty flat.
He came home one day telling me about the wedding.
Ive always had a secret love for Phil.
Its pointless now.
After the wedding Phil decided to move out.
32 years old. I was 28.
Now he was gone.
And i was alone.
I had been so depressed lately since Phil moved out.
My parents havent called. Phils gone.
No ones gonna miss me.
I pulled on my black leather jacket and walked outside in the cold air. I waited for a car to come. Then jumped.
My skull crushing under the tires.
My soul leaving my body.
I felt a smile across my face. I was happy?
I was free. And i was happy.
THE FUNERAL
I could see from above. Like from eagles view, my funeral. I saw Phil.
His hair was matted like it hadent been washed or brushed in weeks. His eyes were bright red like hes been crying for hours.
Him and his new wife walked up to the front.
"My friend Dan- shit..." Tears filled his eyes and fell onto his glasses.
She hugged him. Well. Tried to hug him.
He pushed her off. He looked, angry?
"Get off me! This is all your fault! If i hadnt have met you i would be with Dan and he would still be alive!"
He ran out of the venue.
A couple of hours later. There he was. Right in front of me.
We were both dead.
But together.
Dead, together, and happy.
