I'm angry with Verity

I loved her.
I met her at 6th form college and she noticed me, made me feel like I belonged. We spent hours together and we laughed, cried and more. We knew each other when we lost our virginity. She was the first person I called when my brother died. 

We took silly and dangerous decisions together and apart and talked and analysed them. 

She was beautiful, stunning. The Disney film Pocahontas had not long been out, she looked a bit like her. I knew the vulnerable side of her and she knew mine. 

I thought we would be friends for ever. 

When I went into hospital she didn't visit. We never recovered from that.
I hated the fact that she didn't come and that I needed her.

I don't need anyone. 

I'm not saying it was her that made me that way, that damage had been done long before that. But that really hurt. I blamed her boyfriend (who is now he husband) I didn't want to blame VHL. 

I only visited my brother once when he was in hospital, no once when he was alive in hospital. The next time I could be bothered to go he was brain dead... then I stayed for the three days. We stayed at a nurse residence, slept on the floor. 

I know he'd have forgiven me for not coming more. But I haven't forgiven myself. 

Missing him nearly 22 years later.