the man

my heart has stopped three times in my life;
the day my parents told me they were splitting up,
the day I broke two bones in one fall
and the day of the car crash.
 
I remember it so well.
leaning on my knees picking stray weeds from the side of my house.
 her phone call.
I remember thinking,
 that’s odd, and but she never calls me.
I remember a man
Telling me he watched her die
 
 He spoke the words but I couldn’t hear them.
 only staring at the bundle of grass in my hands
 drifting to the ground
 Sometimes at night I watch her in my head
I hear his voice
 and I have to turn on the radio on
so I cant hear my own thoughts
 
Who was he?
why did he to be there for her,
while she slipped away and not me,
the one she grew with and cried with and fell in love with?
 
I thought I’ve been jealous before.
 Of a boyfriend’s flirty coworker,
of all the girls at my high school with perfect makeup and cars and families.
 But this man.
the man driving the other car, who ended her life.
the man who took everything,
How dare he sit to watch as she slipped away?
 
I think maybe if I could’ve been there,
maybe just to hold her
maybe just to watch her like he did
 maybe it wouldn't play in my head at times it wasn’t supposed to;
 at school when my mind wandered,
on long car rides when the music is too quiet.
maybe I wouldn't hate this man I didn't know.
Maybe I wouldn't hate myself.