A/N: I HAVE GIVEN BIRTH TO ANOTHER WEIRD BRAINCHILD. Meh~, well, this one's more depressing than it is weird. My mind is not a happy place, and yet I'm strangely happy all the time…Oh well~! Thank you for reading!

We've known each other since we were in grade school. We used to play games of tag among the playground sets, build mini-forts out of woodchips, and play harmless pranks on the teacher. Those were the happiest days of my life.

When we grew older, the other kids would make fun of us, saying that we were boyfriend and girlfriend. We would both vehemently deny it, even though a small voice in my head murmured that I wished it were true.

When we entered junior high, we began to grow apart. I only had one class with you, and I sat at the clear end of the room. I ended up with a lower grade in that class, since I was too distracted daydreaming of the old days to listen to the teacher's lectures.

I believe our 8th grade year was when my spirits truly went downhill. You had gone out and gotten yourself a girlfriend. I had seen her around the school before, sure, but had never really talked to her. If I remembered right, she was a clarinet player in our band, who shared my first name. When you introduced her to me, I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream my feelings for you to the world. I wanted the pain in my heart to stop.

I said nothing.

You stayed with her all of high school. I remember that every time I saw you two together, my heart would clench and I would hurriedly look away. I forced myself to still smile. The most important thing to me was that you were happy. At least, that's what I would tell myself.

After we graduated, coincidence had it that we worked at the same company. Occasionally, I would attempt to make conversation with you, but you never seemed to hear me. I considered quitting my job there, because seeing you every day hurt my heart. I knew that I couldn't, since this was my only source of income, and I had nothing to fall back on.

The day came that you announced to everyone in our building that you and your girlfriend were getting married, and that everyone there was invited. While the others cheered and congratulated you, I could do nothing but stare. That horrendous pain in my chest came again, as well as the sensation of wanting to cry. You noticed the look on my face and asked me if anything was wrong. I simply shook my head and smiled. I had to be happy for you.

I did indeed go to your wedding. It was a beautiful ceremony, I must admit. The theme seemed to be white roses, with the flowers adorning nearly everything, from the cake to the ends of the long benches of the church, right down to being worn in the flower girl's hair. I sat alone in the very back, my hands politely folded in my lap. Your bride wore a lovely dress, which had a vale with a rose pattern, and the dress itself being flowing and elegant. The time came when the priest began his long speech.

"…If anyone has any reason to object to this union, speak now, or forever hold your peace…"

I didn't speak a word.

Several years had passed since then, when you gave me a call. I hadn't known you had my phone number. You asked me to meet you at a bar near the outside of town. Even though I did not drink, I agreed because of the tone of your voice. You sounded like you had been crying for several hours.

When I arrived, you had been at the counter already, a small stack of shot glasses lined up next to you. It took you a while to notice that I was sitting next to you, but when you did, you immediately grabbed hold of my arm and began sobbing into my shoulder. I could tell you were trying to explain what happened through your tears, but I couldn't really make out what you were saying. I asked you to please speak a bit clearer, and you leaned away from me, staring me dead in the eyes. With a surprisingly clear tone, you told me that your wife wanted a divorce. Apparently, she had been having an affair with another man for about half a year, and decided that she didn't want to string her husband along any longer. I attempted to comfort you, holding you in an awkward half hug while patting your back. Still quite upset, you pushed me away and stumbled towards the door. I knew that you had a little too much alcohol in your system, and that I couldn't let you wander the streets in your condition with a clear conscious, so I tried to run after to stop you.

I can't say I expected you to be run over. You had attempted to cross the street, and a car that couldn't stop in time had smashed clean into you. Beyond shocked, I ran to your side. I tried to call for help, but all that came out was a strangled cry. Luckily enough, someone else had seen what happened, and had phoned for an ambulance. Even the blaring sirens didn't snap me out of my daze, and I seemed to be on autopilot. The medical staff had allowed me to stay in the back of the ambulance with you, more than likely taking pity on me. I did nothing while I was back there, besides stare at your pained face. I was still trying to process what was happening.

I only snapped out of it when I found myself in the waiting room of the hospital. One of the nurses had come out to inform me that I was able to visit you now. Fearful and anxious, I trailed after her. I was willing myself not to cry.

You were in a truly pitiful state. Bandages adorned your body, your leg was held up in a cast, and your eyes stared up at the ceiling blankly. I softly walked over to the chair beside your bed, my eyes never leaving your face. I sat down with my hands folded in my lap, much in the same way they had been at your wedding, though this time around they were trembling violently. I wanted this to be a nightmare. I wanted to wake up at the time when we were still young, back when my heart didn't know pain.

You turned your head a little bit in my direction, your eyes slightly losing the glaze in them. You murmured my name under your breath in a questioning tone, as though wondering if I was really there.

Honestly, I don't know where it came from. But in that moment, I couldn't be silent any longer.

I confessed to you that night. I admitted that I had loved you since we were children. I couldn't stay there afterwards, so I fled that room, with your shocked eyes on my back.

The same nurse from before came out to me while I was in the waiting room. She told me…she told me you had died shortly after I had left. One of your ribs had pierced your heart, and it finally got to you. She also told me your last words.

"He told me, 'Please tell her that I love her, too'."

For the first time in quite a long while, I cried.

A/N: Why must I write such depressing things? (Cried while writing the last five paragraphs) T3T Anyway, reviews would be greatly appreciated, though I am content without. Thank you for reading!