This is my first fan fiction when I have one of the guys married and not in the band big time rush. But the boys are still friends with Kendall. It's set in the upper part of New York. Please let me know if you like it.

Kendall

How long is, "Til death do us part?" How much time do each of us have to do the things we want and need to do? How often have we regretted not saying what we really felt or doing what we should have done? We have all missed opportunities that we will never encounter again.

There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about this, even more so now that Sarah is in my life.

I like to think of people being like radio waves. Radio waves are constantly around us, they cannot be destroyed. We are literally immersed in them, bathing in them; however we are completely ignorant of them unless conditions are just right. Like turning on a radio, however turning the radio off, doesn't destroy the radio waves. We just lose the ability to perceive them. The human band of energy merely changes format so to speak. There is everlasting life...just not this one. Not again. We all have everlasting life.

I don't mean I was Julius Caesar or when I die I'm going to end up a beggar in Mumbai. This is no poetic metaphor of sorts - we are dust from the stars, billions year old carbon, endlessly cycling, living forever. We are the food that we eat.

We are the air that we breathe. Everything we see was once us and will become us. My point is that we are constantly changing throughout this adventure and our lifetime as we know it is but a blink of the eye. Till death do us part is such a short while. We pass away our time waiting, staying angry, not acting, not saying what we feel, not telling people how much we love them, not APPRECIATING what we are experiencing, and for what?

What do we have to gain by denying others the love we want to give? To maintain some sense of pride that will never amount to anything. Stop every day and take a moment, MANY moments, EVERY moment if you can to appreciate the fact that we are so fortunate to be experiencing our loved ones in their current state. I want to be there for every moment I can with Sarah. That's why I am here.

Seven months earlier.

That's when she vowed to be mine til death do us part.

Reading: Excerpt from The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams.**

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get all loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.

Kendall, I love you because you always make me laugh. Genuine belly laughs. When this happens you instantly appear very pleased with yourself and say, "Oh, you like that?" and then continue to coax more laughs out. It reminds me of my favorite line in one of my favorite books, A History of Love by Nicole Krauss. She wrote, "One upon a time, there was a boy who loved a girl and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering." I feel so lucky to have you answer all my laughs, and I promise I will keep laughing.

I love you because you are so caring and thoughtful. Like how you leave me love notes or pack surprises in my lunch. Like when you whittled a radish to look like a Mario mushroom, stole pieces from the Heine Brothers' Scrabble game to make me a puzzle that reads "I love you", or leave cute notes in the lunches you pack for me every morning. You wrote me a beautiful poem once, about how you can picture growing old with me. I read it every time I'm mad at you just to stay focused.

I love you because we create adventures together and you aren't afraid to adopt my silly ways. You expertly know how to navigate my extensive language of sound effects, made up words and songs.

You're my best friend. I feel most like myself when I'm with you. My hand always feels most comfortable in yours. When we face challenges together, I promise to focus on our love so that it may become stronger. As we grow old together, I vow to not let time dull my love and appreciation for you. The time I've spent with you has been the best time of my life, and I'm thrilled to spend the rest of my days as your wife, as Sarah Kenner Schmidt."

Now

What do you do when your wife is an a car accident not knowing if she'll ever wake up and then you're told something... something that can change your whole life. And everything you have ever done... forgotten, just to be told the horrible truth. she remembers everything except... you? Every memory. Every thought of you. Just gone?

Please review and let me know. This is a different type of story then I'm use to writing so please give it a chance!