Missing Him

She wiped the tears from her eyes in order to see the road clearly. She hadn't even noticed she was crying again until those blurred brake lights came dangerously close. Breathing rapidly, she soon recovered from the shock of the near collision, before it faded back into sorrow.
She knew she was being ridiculous. He broke up with her three weeks ago, and she knew he was over her. But she just could not escape that feeling... That feeling of once knowing happiness, of knowing she was safe in his embrace, of looking into his eyes and knowing she was loved, and having it all, in a five minute phone call, torn away. The feeling of knowing it was her own fault he didn't want anything to do with her, and that she was the one that messed everything up, no matter how much she wanted to be able to blame him.
Apart from the sound of her car's engine, and the occasional horns (whether they were directed at her, she didn't know nor care), and sirens, it was silent. Desperate for some noise, and hopefully take her mind off of him, she turned on the CD player.
"Me to me atte soshite kotoba o kawashita
Mune ga takanatte egao de kakushita
Kimi o shiranakatta koro ni
Modorenaku narisou de"
Ayumi Hamasaki's "Because of You..." What she knew of the lyrics only reminded her of him. Frustrated, she turned it back off.
Coming to a stop at a red light, she finally became conscious of the outside world again, and of the fact that her feet were killing her. Praying that light didn't change, she took off her boots, careful to keep a foot on the brake, and slipped a sandal that she always kept in her car for that purpose, onto her right foot.
Her hand brushed against the swollen skin on her ankle where her tattoo was. "FREEDOM, BEAUTY, TRUTH, and above all else... LOVE." The words from her favorite romance story, Moulin Rouge... another story of love and loss.... She had gotten that tattoo with him, thankful that they hadn't decided to do something stupid, like get each other's name. But still, it felt as though the universe wanted to remind her of how miserable she was without him.
The light turned green. She put her foot on the acceleration. Not knowing why, she reached for her phone and pressed his number on speed dial, which she had never reset. Her thumb paused over the "Talk" button as she glanced from the road to the phone. She wanted nothing more than to just talk to him again, but knew he would never answer. And yet, for some odd reason, she pressed the button and held the phone up to her ear. It rang only twice.
"Hello?" his voice sounded through the phone.
Her heart stopped and her stomach did a cartwheel. She had never expected him to answer. "D-Dan?" she stuttered.
A woman's formal voice came over, giving instructions to leave a voicemail. Misleading voicemail messages were overplayed, but still something he found funny. Frustrated yet again, not realizing she was crying again, she slammed her phone shut. The screen read "1:36 AM."
Whether she failed to realize the headlights followed by red and blue, swerving from lane to lane were heading straight to her before it was too late to react, or whether she welcomed it, no one ever knew.
"Time of death, 1:47"