Dear Michael,
I know why you have become so distant. I know the reason behind your silence. The reason behind your riddle. I didn't wake up from a little car accident. No, I woke up from a five month coma.
You told me to wake up because you are me. I needed to wake up so I could live my life. Even if it was going to be a life without you. If I would have known that, I would have let myself die.
You're gone. It doesn't make since. I still see you, but you're gone. We still talk, but you're gone. You still don't say you Love me, because you're gone. You are me, and I don't love myself. That's why you don't say it back.
You died in the car accident. And now you're gone. You're gone because I was driving recklessly. You died because of me.
I hate myself.
You're no longer walking this earth.
It's my fault.
You no longer have a life.
It's my fault.
You no longer have a beating heart, or breathing lungs.
It's my fault.
You're not here anymore.
And it's my fault.
It's all my fault.
Love,
Elora
