It's been a week already since I was discharged from a hospital after that awful crash, the memory of it still vivid in my head. Your cocky attitude, your laughter as you pressed the gas just before losing control over the car burned into my memory forever.
I take a look around our apartment, once space full of laughter and love, now so bleak and confining, so hard to move around within with my limited mobility. As I sit on the couch, wheelchair standing next to me, a constant reminder of what I lost forever, of my new reality I can't escape from, I can't help but be on the crisp of breaking into tears yet again. Why did it have to be me?
Suddenly overwhelming silence is broken by keys turning in the lock, a clear sign of your return home, god only knows from where. I look in the direction of the door and as they open, instead of giving you a warm welcome like I did in the past I only glare at you coldly without uttering a word.
"..."
Honestly I can barely look at you, you are the direct cause of what happened to me, yet here you stand and walk freely, with accident doing no damage to you, while I have to suffer the consequences of your stupidity. How is this fair in any way? For a moment I want to lash out, to scream at you, but what will it change if I do? But still I need to do something, anything to quench this resentment I am feeling.
"Do you even feel guilty about what you done? Or are you perhaps proud of yourself, for making me dependent on you?"
My question comes out in accusing tone, I know the answer, but still I asked it with sole intention of hurting you, to make you feel at least a small part of suffering you caused me. Looking up at you and waiting for your answer I wonder if this relationship even has any future, if there is any love left between us, or is it doomed already, with me clinging to you because I have nobody else to turn to and need help from you, despite all of my resentment, and you, probably staying with me simply out of guilt consuming you.
