Waking the Sandman 18

I will never forgive myself,
I can never forgive myself,
for not being there
when she died.

I have no good excuse.
How could there be?

So I can only guess
what it was like
when she died.

I know what was happening
in the hours preceding
when she died,
and I remember clearly
being told that this would
precede death,
and yet
I allowed myself
to be convinced
to leave.

And I did.
I left.

I left.

I left.

And a few hours later...

I'm told that there's
a kind of peace
that precedes death,
a kind of grace,
almost a dream,
a softening of the fatal blow.

Can I assume this happened
when she died?

I can't. 
I just can't.

You're supposed to be there.
I should have been there...

And so I can never forgive myself.

More than anything else,
this haunts my days,
a periodic waking nightmare
that troubles me
to my core.

I believe
I deserve it.

I betrayed her.
In the end
I betrayed her.