This morning I got up angry. Angry at the illogic of what happened. Free floatin anger. Tonight, I am angry with myself.
Others are saying how this was inevitable, or God's will or fate. Nuts to that. It was preventable, or more accurately, postponeable. It did not have to happen, yet.
I had it in my power to prevent it, probably. In at least half a dozen ways leading up to the final day. My errors and omissions. I did not act and now my love is dead and gone.
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