The first time I spoke to her, it was August 6th, 2010. I'm guessing it was in the evening since I had just had dinner with Kurt and my mom. It was the night I had flown back from LA. I had moved there with Puck after I graduated. I wasn't planning on coming back to Lima for a long time but after Burt passed away, I knew that my mom needed me. I came straight home and I was there for over two months before I met her. Rachel, her name was Rachel. Or Rach, but I was the only one who could call her that. She was like an angel; literally, I thought she was an angel. I had gone out for a walk, found myself in the park by the swings. I used to spend a lot of time there when I was a kid. I remember she just stood in front of me, and she was glowing (ok so maybe there was light from the park behind her) but it was dark. And her arms were crossed. She looked..Pissed.
"Excuse me, you're sitting on my cardigan!" I can still hear those words in my head now. Back then, those words meant nothing. I remember I stared at her for about five minutes straight, wondering where the heck she had come from. God, probably. "Hello!? That is my cardigan, that green thing you are sitting on. Please may I have it back?" I shook my head, laughed and then handed it to her. I wanted to apologise but she just smiled and god, I was gone. That smile threw me completely. That was the first time I met her and all I could say, was "Sorry" I hadn't even had a chance to tell her my name or get to know her a little. And I wanted to. But she was gone before I knew it.
Call me crazy, but I liked that and I liked her smile, A lot.
The first time we had dinner alone, she had told me to order pizza. I was gonna cook but after my mom's stories at the dinner table about how "awful" a cook I was, having nearly burnt the fucking house down that one time I tried to be fancy and cook some duck, Rachel told me there was to be no cooking this time. The couch was pretty great for making out on after dinner. I mean there was no space at all for my feet but I guess that's what happens when you're super tall. She'd just laugh and distract me. We'd make out for a while, but I knew when to stop. Or well, Rachel did and I would just go with it.
The first time we had sex, no wait. No, the first time we "Made Love", It was the 14th of February 2011. We were both twenty years old and crazy in love. She had been telling me for weeks that when the time was right for us to do it, we should do it like that Ryan Gosling dude and that Rachel chick. Not my Rachel, the other one from that movie, The Notepad. No..no it was called something else. The Notebook! Anyway, Valentines Day came around, I took her out for dinner, we had come back home and well next thing I know she's against the wall, tearing off my shirt and I'm pulling her dress up over her head. We spent hours and hours just wrapped up in each other. Don't wanna get all sappy but, nothing was better than lying next to Rachel Berry. She hated it when I watched her sleep, but I couldn't help myself. I watched her lips twitch, her eyelashes flutter as she drifted off to sleep once more. She was perfect, in every way.
The first time we slept in our own bed, in our own apartment. It was the 23rd of November, 2011. We had decided to stay up that night and watch Paranormal Activity 2. I called her an idiot for wanting to watch it and spent 3 hours trying to convince her that nothing in the damn thing was real.
"Come on..Ghosts aren't real. I don't think so anyway and hey, I'm here if anything happens babe. I'll go all Jackie Chan on their little white asses, if they try to hurt you." That made her laugh, and after five minutes, she was asleep. And I watched her, for a while.
And there were the little things.
The first time I heard her say "Fuck you", it was hot. Really hot. She had almost cried because she did not curse, and whenever I did it, she'd smack my arm or something. I had made her say it. We were drunk and I told her that if I ever died, I'd come back and haunt her. She didn't laugh. She just said "Fuck you" and then gasped. I was laughing my ass off. She hated me for laughing but then she joined me, and we didn't stop laughing for hours and hours.
The first time we fought, it was her fault. We had always agreed to disagree, I'd tell her that there was no way in hell that I'd back down and she'd tell me she hated me. I'd sit on the couch and give her about 20 minutes or so, and then I'd end up finding her in the kitchen, making pancakes. We'd say sorry and make up. It started because I had lost my job, It wasn't my fault. Some guys had just been told to leave and that was that. She had gone crazy, yelling at me and talking about how there would be no money and blah blah...I zoned out because I had been offered a job somewhere else. But with Rachel, as soon as she was in that "Fuck you, we're not talking" mood, well, there was no talking. As I said, in the end, we made up. Who knew that make up sex could be so great.
The first time we had gone on vacation together, was our honeymoon. Hawaii was quiet at night, especially with Rachel just staring out at the sea. The moon was above us, along with the stars. I stayed silent, wondering what she was thinking. But then I knew. We both knew.
"I love you, Finn. I love you so very much. I will always love you. No matter what..." She had cried into my shoulder and I had lifted her head and wiped those tears away. "Don't you do that. I love you, you're my wife and...When we get home. I want us to start a family, can we do that? Can I have a mini Rachel Berry running around the apartment?"
Vacation lasted a week. We were supposed to be there for two.
The last time Rachel and I fought, I had told her to get into the hospital and like always, she didn't listen. She stayed at home, watching that Notepad movie again. She wouldn't stop watching it. I'd remind her of the first time we made love. She'd say.
"I really wanted us to be like Allie and Noah..right up until the end. I wanted all of that." We knew that wasn't going to happen.
The last time we had made love was the 9th of November 2012. We had dinner at our favourite restaurant. Puck had come to visit from LA. He and Rachel had become the best of friends within an hour of meeting each other. I liked that, I wanted them to be best friends. She thought he was inappropriate most of the time and he thought she was uptight but they got along. That was all that mattered.
The last time we had dinner alone, was the 5th of December 2012. I cooked Duck. She smiled and applauded when I brought it through from the kitchen and set it down on the table.
"Remember that time you almost burnt your mom's house down.." I laughed, and we talked about it throughout dinner. I told her I'd keep on practising and I would perfect every meal. I told her I'd make pizza and I'd cook pancakes for her. She was amazed that I still couldn't do that yet. I told her that she'd have to teach me how to make banana bread. Rachel promised, but it wasn't her fault that she wasn't able to teach me.
The last time we slept in our bed, in our apartment, was the 12th of December 2012. She'd cough, she'd tell me that her chest hurt, her head hurt and I'd tell her that she could go to the hospital but she didn't want to. This was her home; this is where it was to happen.
The last time I spoke to Rachel was the 13th of December 2012. She reminded me of the duck, the notebook and she told me that she was really glad that I told her ghosts weren't real. Because now she knew she wasn't going to be stuck in that form. I told her I wouldn't mind it of course, as long as she didn't come back and haunt me. She laughed, I'm sure it was a laugh. But I knew that she was slipping away. I squeezed her hand and reminded her that I was here and she reminded me of the first words she had ever said to me.
"Excuse me, you're sitting on my cardigan!" It was still that same voice, but a little weaker. She smiled, she tried so hard. Rachel knew that her smile would make me feel so much better and I wanted to make her feel better. We had talked about it once, how we would like to die. I had told her that as long as I could be with her, I'd be okay with it. She told me that she'd like to die listening to Barbra Streisand. I was offended, but I wasn't surprised. We had both said that if Cancer was our cause of death, we'd do all we could to prevent suffering. And I did that for her. I tried.
As I sat by her side of the bed, her eyes closed, her eyelashes fluttered and I watched her, like I always did. I was right all along. Rachel was an angel, she was sent by God to be my angel. And as I let go of her hand for the last time, I whispered an "I love you".
And I let go of my angel.
On the back of this letter, is a recipe for Banana bread. Rachel promised she'd teach me how to make it like she did, I thought she wouldn't be able to do it but I found this piece of paper under her pillow a couple of days ago. Rachel really did keep her promise.
I found her green cardigan under my pillow on the chair. I wanted to laugh because she had told me so long ago that she had lost it but here I was, sitting on it. I think she would have laughed and reminded me of the first time we met.
I don't know if I'll ever move on or love another woman like I loved Rachel. I don't know if I'll ever love someone else's smile like I loved hers.
And there is no way in hell that I will love anyone else's banana bread like I loved hers.
Rachel, I love you.
Thank you for tying your green cardigan to that swing.