Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, I'm only barrowing them. The pain, however, is mine.

Apart-

I had it all.

Beauty. Fame. Intelligence. Wealth. Love.

Love. All the beauty in the world means nothing to me. She said that I was beautiful.

Love. People know my name. She would whisper it over and over, driving me crazy with the way it rolled off her tongue and sent shivers down my spine.

Love. They call me a bookworm, a know-it-all, a teacher's pet. But I don't know how to make the pain stop. The only words I've ever read that held any meaning were the words of love in her letters to me. All I know, all I want to know, is how to make her happy.

Love. Wealth, money, whatever you want to call it is slowly gathering. I would give all I have and more if it would do any good. It can't buy her love. It can't fix anything.

Love. My one true love. I've loved Ginny since the moment I saw her and over time it has only grown. It didn't matter that at the beginning we were only friends. It didn't matter that my parents didn't approve or that she was younger.

We were in love.

We spent hours upon hours together. We talked about everything we could think of, lying next to each other and learning as much as we could about the other. We never argued, ever. We rarely even disagreed. We were made for each other.

Our nights were spent getting to know each other in other ways. We would kiss until our lips were sore. We would make love until dawn or until our fingers and tongues were too tired to continue, or until we had too many orgasms to keep going. Whichever came first. (hee, hee...)

And it was good. But the best part was when she would lie next to me, an arm around my waist, a leg carelessly thrown over mine, and whisper, "I love you." She never got upset when I choked on those words, or when I forgot to say them at all. She understood. And then, when I would look at her and say it, and mean it with all my heart... I still remember the first time. I had tears in my eyes. She pulled me close and whispered, "I know. And you were worth the wait, and don't let anyone tell you different."

I love her with all my heart and soul. And she knows it. I know she knows it.

See, having everything doesn't matter. Because I still have it. All of it. All but the love. She took that with her and I'm never going to get it back.

We buried the love of my life in the cold hard ground. Her cold body is the in the cold dirt. And my heart is the same. Cold. Hard. Dead. It will never feel anything but pain again.

Because she'll never hold my hand again. She'll never kiss me again. She'll never exclaim, "Girls are much better than boys!" again. We'll never have a long pointless discussion – that is only being drawn out because it makes us feel so together – again. She'll never watch me with the half smile that I love on her face, that she refuses to explain when I ask her about it, again. She'll never touch me in just the right way to drive me crazy ever again. She'll never insist she knows exactly how to make me happy and then succeed in doing so again.

She'll never hold me close and tell me how much she loves me again.

I can never tell her how much I love her and how much I appreciate everything she's done for me.

I will be alone forever because I didn't tell the woman that I love that I loved her enough. Because I, somehow, wasn't enough.

Why did she have to kill herself?

Why did she have to die?

Why did she have to leave me?

Why did she have to love me?

Why can't I stop loving her?

Why?

A/N: so... tell me what you think. It's a oneshot, and I was really emotional. So be gentle as it's far from my best.