I never noticed how beautiful the stars are until now, as my blood mingles with the water. I'm probably concussed, or whatever a doctor would call it. I never had occasion to research the effects of a head wound from a car crash, but the firsthand experience is interesting, if a tad unpleasant. It probably doesn't matter, now. It's stopped hurting, and that's never a good sign.

She never really loved me, I think, just pretended. I wanted it badly, oh so badly, though. Badly enough that I thought it might be a good idea to go driving out in the rain after her.

I thought I could plead to her, tell her how much I loved her, tell her that I'd always love her. I thought I could convince her to stay with me always.

I got silence and the finger.

And wet. Can't forget wet.

Not only that, I got distracted, and paid little attention to a road I've known since I was a little kid. Funny, isn't it, how a little thing like your heart breaking can keep you from noticing a gentle curve in a road until you jump the sloping curb and slam into a telephone pole.

Mr. Barton's going to be pissed in the morning. He telecommutes.

So she dragged me out into the street, and I know I'm never leaving this spot. All I can see, even with her there, is the stars. How beautiful they are...