It had been…god, about three years since graduation, if I remember correctly. Laura and I were over. Finally. That was the longest relationship I had ever been in, and I still missed her from time to time.

Jimmy and I were living with Damien in that stupid, run-down shack we called home. But it was the best three college students could afford, especially with Jimmy and I fighting all the time.

I remember the night so well. Jimmy had Miranda over (they were inseparable since he – you know – ‘popped the question’). Damien was working at the Blockbuster on 22nd and Dover, and we were watching his Monty Python movies before he came back. Then…the doorbell…

“You wanna get that?” Jimmy mumbled from the couch where he was cuddling with Miranda. (Considering the furniture shortage at the time, I was stuck with the floor.) Rolling my eyes, I stood.

“Sure, no problem.” I stretched, throwing my hands above my head. The doorbell rang again.

“Take your sweet time, why don’t you!” Sometimes it seemed like Miranda thought she was marring the both of us, the way she nagged. I crossed the living room, mumbling.

“Who, on earth, would be coming to the door at 10:30 at night?” I turned the knob and the door swung open with an eerie creak. I remember the breath catching in my throat and my heart skipping a beat at what I saw. The face – vaguely familiar – hollow and exhausted. She looked so small and overridden with grief. And as she smiled, and I cringed because it looked painful and forced.

There was an awkward pause, then:

“Charles Pratton?” She croaked. Nodding, I opened the door wider and let her in.

“How can I help you?” Normally, I would’ve said that no one lived here by that name and shut the door in her face; but, she looked so sad and so desperate, that even I didn’t have the heart.

Quietly, she scoffed at my nice-to-strangers politeness.

“You don’t recognize me.” She murmured so that I couldn’t hear.

“Sorry, I didn’t-“ But Jimmy cut me off.

“Oh my god! Krystle? Krystle Fench?” Then I instantly remembered her. She was a couple years younger Jimmy and me in high school. But, St. Peter’s was so small that you knew everyone. Right down to their shoe size. And her sister, Katelyn…well…

Jimmy and Miranda were both hugging Krystle and asking how she’s been and all the normal rendezvous stuff. But I couldn’t help but wonder about the real reason she came.

Krystle smiled and told them about NYU and how Brett and Ella were finally legally married. She was patient and listened to their stories and congratulated them on their engagement. She asked about Nikki, and if we had kept in touch with Chris or Harry at all. (The answer, of course, was ‘um…no’.)

After a couple of hours, I could tell she was completely worn out, so I offered to drive her back to her hotel. (She had taken a cab here.)

We sat in silence for a while; it seemed too awkward to put the radio on, and yet this silence was unbearable. I thought it ridiculous to beat around the bush, so I just asked her.

“Krystle?”

“Yea, Charles?”

“Why are you here?” There was a long silence. And even though she was making an effort to look out the window, I could see she was crying. I surprised myself, when I realized I was thinking of how much she looked Katelyn when she cried. I’d seen Katelyn cry many-a-time. “Krystle?” I said, finally

“She begged me to find you.” She was twisting her fingers, nervously, in her lap, not bothering to wipe away the tears, anymore.

“Who?”

“Kate-“ She paused, crying softly into her hands. “Katelyn.” She was a freshman when I was a senior, and I never really knew what to think of her. It had started with rumors. Then finally Laura and Sarah told me outright. “Katelyn Fench is in love with you.” It really didn’t have much affect on my life, at first.

“Why?”

“She’s…” More painful silence. “Well, I’ll bet you can guess.” It was the worst possible thing she could say. I had the sick feeling in my stomach, but, of course, how outrageous it would be (yet undeniably relieving) if I was wrong.

“Krystle, just tell me.”

“She’s dead, ok?” Her face fell into her hands, shoulders shaking with inaudible sobs.

Dead. I didn’t know what to even think or feel. It was shocking. Terrifying. What could’ve possibly happened?

Why did she Krystle to come find me?

I couldn’t think of a damned thing to say, as I avoided a honking Subaru Outback on my left. I remember seeing bits and pieces of Katelyn from day to day. I remember thinking she really was beautiful. She was just so much younger than me. Besides, Laura and I were happy, then. But she looked at me, with those sad, brown eyes every day, anyway.

Krystle had stopped crying, now, and was rummaging in her bag. All my memories of Katelyn were coming back in one big rush. I’m embarrassed to admit that I hadn’t even thought of her, once, since graduation. I was pulled out of my thoughts by a letter being thrust into my lap, as I pulled up to the Hyatt Inn.

“She wrote this while she was in the hospital.” Krystle didn’t wait for me to say goodbye. She was out of the car and into the lobby before I had time to turn the white envelope over in my hands.

By the time I got home, Jimmy had gone to take Miranda back to her apartment, and Damien was passed out on the couch (still in his Blockbuster’s uniform – shoes and all). Taking advantage of having no one around, I locked my bedroom door, and tore open the envelope. Sitting back on my bed, I began to read:

Dear Charles,

I pray this letter finds you happy and healthy. It’s been almost three years since I last saw you; you must be so glad to be out of St. Peter’s.

The truth is, Charles, I’m dieing. No one at school ever knew about my leukemia, but that didn’t make it go away. Not even chemo can make it go away. I’m scared. I guess I have no reason to be; I don’t have any real regrets. Save one:

I love you so much, Charles. I’ll never know how it got that way. Something just struck me about you. My regret wasn’t that you never felt anything for me; it was only that I never had the courage to tell you the truth.

I remember how bad it hurt, trying to convince my sister, my friends that I really did love you. It’s just that when you smiled, it felt like there was nothing wrong with the world. And when you said my name, it felt like I was cured from everything. I miss you. Just to see your face one last time would be…I can’t even think of a word!

God, Charles, I was torn up inside because of you. I know Laura is a wonderful person, and absolutely beautiful. I was happy to know you were happy with her. But, I am so lonely. I always have been. I can’t bring myself to love anyone but you. Sometimes, I just prayed that you would love me. Sometimes, I hated you because you are the center of my life.

These past three years have been hell, Charles. I think about every day, and hope that you’re happy. It feels like I’m less than half of a human without you. I never called or wrote because, well, I just couldn’t bring myself to. I don’t have the heart of a lion, Charles. I couldn’t brave the risk of your rejection. And, I promise, this is the last time I’ll ever bother you.

And now, Charles, all that is left to say is goodbye. I had prayed that I’d see you again. But think about it this way: if I make it into Heaven, I’ll take a bit of you with me. That way you can see what it’s like. I heard that Heaven is personal. Sort of like, everyone gets his or her own Heaven. Oh, I don’t know. Finding out what it’s like, will be the greatest excitement of all.

I love you, Charles. I love you.

Sincerely,

Katelyn Fench

Of all the painful, horrible, heart-wrenching moments I’ve experienced in my live, this one was the worst. I cold feel my very soul freezing over from the hurt. I hated myself more than hated any other creature on this earth. She loved me. Not until that moment, while I was crying over her letter, did I have any idea what that meant. It meant her pain and loneliness for my blindness and selfishness. I hated myself. I know I could’ve loved her. I would’ve.

I did.

Jimmy was my twin, and always knew when something was wrong. Upon returning from Miranda’s, he found me under the quilt, clutching Katelyn’s letter, whimpering like a wounded animal.

Three days later, Jimmy, Miranda, and me stood at the base of a freshly buried grave, a few miles outside of a town in Ireland called Crosshaven. (To rest here was one of Katelyn’s last wishes) We’d miss the funeral, but the flowers were still fresh and the soil still loose.

I didn’t know why Miranda bothered to wear mascara that day. It was smeared down her cheeks in thick, black lines as she bit a finger nail, and Jimmy kept an arm tight around her.

“We’ll meet you back at the car,” Jimmy whispered softly to me. I didn’t answer. The wind whistled in my ears. The green of the grass, the blue of the sky seemed sharpened somehow. I could almost feel her whispering my name. She had kept her promise, I could see – just a little bit - what Heaven was like.

Here lies Fiona Katherine “Katelyn” Fench,

1986 – 2005

There are no good-byes, wherever we are, you'll always be in our hearts.