Day 3: Something I have to forgive myself for

Wow...some heavy stuff.
This one is difficult for me.  I could answer this one with some fluff answer, but that's not really the point is it?  I have to forgive myself for hanging up the phone.  It was a long time ago and I will never forget the sound of her voice.  Desperate and pleading, asking for help.  I thought that I had helped.  I listened, she talked, yelled, screamed, cried, laughed.  I soothed, comforted, tried the very best that I could.  For hours, we talked.  For hours, I worried.  For hours, I tried to reassure her that she was loved, people needed her in their lives.  For hours, I listened.  As the sun was peeking up through the clouds, she said she was fine.  She said that she would get help.  She said that she wouldn't do anything.  I told her I loved her.  I told her if she felt this way again to call back.  She assured me she was okay.  She told me that she loved me and she promised me that she wouldn't do anything.  I hung up,  I fell asleep, with the phone next to me, just in case she needed me, just in case she called back.  My phone rang, jolting me out of a sleep, it was only four hours later.  I picked up with a sense of dread. I listened- I went numb- what do you mean?  She promised...promised she would call...promised she was okay..promised...promised...promised.  Crying, yelling, tears- no laughter in this call.  Just sadness- all encompassing sadness.  I didn't go back for the funeral- I couldn't face her parents, her family- they knew that I was the last one to talk to her. I heard the begging and the pleading in their voices for one little thing that could have been done differently.  I listened as her mother yelled and cried over the phone that there had to have been something that could have been done.  Emails and questions abound and I didn't have any answers.  I was a coward and couldn't face them in person.  Couldn't look them in the eyes and see them searching my face for an answer.  I was a coward and stayed, isolated, in my dorm room, isolated, left to myself to replay over and over and over again the conversation, the last few minutes of ever hearing her voice.  I went down to the beach alone on the day of her funeral.  I yelled and cried and asked why. I wanted an answer just like everyone else, an answer that would explain, an answer that would make it make sense- the only person who could give it to me was gone- taking her own life and with it pieces of others lives.   I couldn't bear to think of what would have happened if I didn't hang up...maybe another few minutes, maybe an hour would have made a difference- maybe it wouldn't have- I will never know because I hung up.
Years later- I know this wasn't my fault- I know that there was probably nothing I could have done differently- but there is part of me- that still wonders, still worries, still feels guilty for hanging up the phone.