I never would have married you if I'd known you were going to kill me.

We weren't going fast, just five over the speed limit...but you were yelling. Shouting profanity as I cried next to you. Tight fists banging on the stereo against the beat of the country music you blared as comfort. I remember listening to the lyrics, hearing every word so I couldn't hear you. Maybe if I was paying attention, I would have seen the semi. I would have screamed louder than the radio.

Machines beeped and hummed, and it was the worse country song I ever heard. It made it better to pretend the radio was still on. I understand the comfort. 

You were crying. I heard your shouts to the doctors and every threat you made.  Nothing was going to bring me back. Not completely, anyway.

I was still alive. I was still alive for three weeks. If I could talk to you now, I know you would blame the doctors.  Nothing was ever your fault. 

I watched them pull the plug. I felt the machine die with me. I heard your voice begging for forgiveness and I hated you for it.