Sobs rack through my bones as I clutch your body close. Blood leaks from your wrist, and a bottle of pills is spilled across the ground.
I had fumbled with my phone, calling an ambulance as tears dropped from my face. They had said that it would take ten minutes.
Ten minutes of hell.
Ten minutes of you being closer and closer to dying.
Maybe you're already dead, I don't know.
So I sit, cradling your head in my lap, my tears falling on your face.
And when they come, it only takes two words to break me,
"I'm sorry."
