one in a million

What does one do,
after the trigger is pulled,
with this self inflicted wound,
so fatal, but slow to die.

I feel like I have surely shot my self in the heart,
fool that I be, and I slowly die so swiftly.

and my life with her flashes before my eyes,
and the times we did spend in heaven for me,
that now I see, as her hell, by my hand.

Someone please help me,
to dig this bullet out,

because I do not want to die,
for I could never return to her,
once off the face of this earth.

Please, help me fill the holes of these mistakes,
so I might live to see a brighter day.

Please help me to patch and mend,
this damage I have done,
to her heart and mine,
if there be any way,
chances one in that million.