These things.

Six years ago yesterday, I had a phone call at 2 in the morning from my best friend. She was miserable, had just had a fight with her boyfriend and felt stranded and alone in Alabama. I was exhausted. Fighting nonstop with my ex-husband, and really tired of healing her every time she called. I got off of the phone within 5 minutes because I had to work in the morning. Plus, I was not happy with having to listen to her problems every time she called. I had my own problems.

Six years ago today, she shot herself.

I miss her. Every single day of my life. Still - everything reminds me of her. She was my best friend. My sister. I can't replace her, and I still haven't.

For six years I blamed myself. If I'd have held on a little longer, she'd still be here. If I'd have called the next morning and checked up on her, she'd still be here. If I'd done anything, she'd still be here. I was sick with it. It shaped every life decision I'd made since. Some good, some horrible. Losing her had devastated me, and I'd let my guilt steer my course in life.

I always remember her birthday. March 18th. I always think of her, every day. This morning, on my way to work - I thought of her again. And I realized - somewhere along the way, I'd let go of the guilt but held on to her memory. I don't know when, but at some point I'd forgiven her for doing it. And I'd forgiven myself.

It still hurts. But it's a pain I can live with now.