And would you ever know it was because of you?

The yellowed, faded paper fluttered in the breeze, weighted down by a stone. The paper was damp, rain blowing occasionally into the small protected pocket it was in. It was under a ledge used for holding a flower vase, and it had survived only because the paper was sturdy, thick, and the ink non-smearing in the presence of raindrops. It was the sort of thing that caught your attention if you glanced out of the corner of your eye and saw it. But despite everyone that had seen it, all the curiosity that had built up because of it, it remained untouched.

It was a promise I made so long ago. And every day I think of it, think about breaking it.

He glided through the cemetery quietly, his footsteps unheard. His eyes, black and hollow looking, stared blankly ahead. He was very young looking, just a teenage boy, but he appeared crippled with a sorrow so heavy that he looked ancient. The glow of the florescent street lamps that dotted the small burial park offered little light and created a foggy haze in the rain-soaked night. A single star peaked out through the thick cloud cover in the sky.

But it remains kept, and that's why I'm here today.

All the mistakes he had made, all the regrets in his life threatened to split his head open, blood spilling out with all the thoughts he wished he didn't have. All he wanted to do was sit on the wet ground, curled up, holding his pounding head until all his sadness went away. But he couldn't cry. He never would. And his blood would never spill.

And every time I wished on a star, I thought of you.

He was reminded again and again of how stupid he was. Who wants to live like that? Who can live like that? The self-hatred would destroy you. Too bad he couldn't really die.

The thought crossed my mind, so many times.

He made his way towards the tombstone with the waving letter. It was only a few years old, but already the weather had beaten it down to a dejected, sickly appearance. There was no one to take care of it, save for the lonely grave-watcher that kept the weeds from taking over. And so it was faded, worn, and was one of the most dismal graves in the whole cemetery.

But I promised.

It's always been for you.

It still is.

He knelt before it, his knees weak. He was strong. He was supernatural. He was a vampire. His skin was like granite, his mind incomparable to a human's. He was almost indestructible. But if you could hear his thoughts, you would never know it. Flashes of self-loathing ran through his head. A piece of his advanced brain always thought of it. 'Dammit, Edward! You could have saved her. You could have saved her…' He's always wondered what happened to her, exactly… after he left. It was the stupidest thing he had ever done in all his almost two centuries. He never went back to see her; he fought himself daily on that. He never went back to check on her, his Bella, the love of his… existence.

The smile I faked, everyday—for you.

To make her safe, he had left her. To protect her. To keep her from harm. To make her healthy. What they had… it wasn't healthy. He loved her enough to let her go.

The times I laughed when the only thing I wanted to do was cry-- for you.

The screams of frustration I kept locked inside—for you.

All that he was, since he had met her, was about her. She was imprinted on his soul, if vampires had souls. She was stamped in permanent ink onto the source of his being, what kept him alive. He'd heard through the grapevine all about her. Her life… and, her death. He let her be, let her get on with moving on, didn't go, didn't want to remind her of him, in case she had forgotten.

The blood that didn't spill—all for you.

Another flare of resentment towards himself, and a wave of jealousy he knew was all his fault flowed through him as he looked at her gravestone. Isabella Crowley. She had married. She had moved on as he had intended her to do. She had lived and died, like a human, as it should have been. Aged 84 years, three days, the headstone said. It was the anniversary of the day he left, how's that for irony? She died of natural causes, it was random she died that day, no influence from her. Fate just wanted to laugh at him. Punish him for existing, when he shouldn't, when he should have died of sickness over a hundred years ago.

Because of you.

Sometimes I wonder if you were real. If I'm crazy. A lot of times, I believe I am.

He had wondered this planet, in a dark haze since that day, decades ago. His mind was a trap of all things morbid. A gloomy, gray storm cloud hung over his head constantly, but the invisible, icy rain he always felt pouring over him only reminded him of her, and all he had left behind. Nothing was beautiful anymore. Only her. Always her. His eyes could pick up so much more than a human. He could see things for what they really were. He could watch the way an unknown-to-people color glinted as light struck the edge of something. He knew there was no such thing as black, that it was always touched by some other color. He could see the exquisiteness of everything around him. But it only looked dirty. That sort of real life magic would never register in his mind again.

But I don't do anything about it. No matter how much I want to.

Bella was the only magic in his world, even among all things considered magic, all the myths come true. And he had given that up. Now all the stars were gone, never to be seen again. He could see them, but never would they look as they once did. He reached tentatively towards the piece of parchment, folded carefully. "Edward Cullen" decorated the front of the envelope, written in an elegant yet still slightly untidy and slightly shaky script.

I told you I wouldn't.

He knew he wouldn't like what it said. Nothing good could come of reading it, but, it really couldn't hurt that much could it? He was already barely living, barely functioning, and definitely not thinking of what he should have been.

Despite all you've done, I'm still here. All I've felt, because of you, and I've survived.

With a hole where his non-beating heart should have been, the heart he gave away on the day he broke the only girl he had ever loved to pieces, he read the letter. It explained her life, her thoughts, in detail. It was to give him closure, he knew, not to torture him, but seeing proof of what he had done to her hurt. She had married Tyler, he had always known she would be with someone like him. She had had a happy life. She lived like she should have. But, she reminded him in the letter, she never forgot how her life could have been. The last half of the note meant only for his eyes was hardest to read. She had wanted to kill herself. His Bella, dead from her own hand … he couldn't bear to think of it. He had made her promise, all those years ago to never do that, no matter what happened. He had promised the same. And she had kept the promise. Despite what he'd done to her. How he'd ripped her world up. How he made her hate herself as he hated himself. How she had suffered insecurity. How she felt unloved and abandoned, all her life. How she had been damaged beyond repair, all by him. All for him, she had kept going, always living for him, when all she wanted to do was die. She finally got her wish, all while staying true to her word.

I'm not sure what I am is what you can call human, but, it's what you wanted. I'm human in motions still, for you. God will not punish me for the sin of suicide when I die, for you.

As he stared at her grave, his mind angry, lashing out at him. He cried inside, tears of bitter, bitter regret. He'd have her, if only he had done things different. He hurt her, did nothing but hurt her. He could never have won, no matter what he did. And this was the outcome he had chosen. He would never know if it was actually the right choice. You couldn't change the past. No matter how much you wanted to.

And because I know how hard keeping promises like that can be, I release you from yours.

Bella… she was so good, so pure. She had done the thing he hadn't done. Set him free for real. It didn't matter that he had tried to let her go, his hold on her was lasting and haunted her for her entire life. She lived on the edge, wishing for something her mind wouldn't let her do, because of him. But she had been the unselfish one. She had let him go. He was free to do as he pleased with his life. And he would.

I still love you. I always will.

"I love you too, Bella. I'm so sorry. More than you'll ever know. And I guess I won't get the chance to tell you… Maybe one day. I'm not sure if I'll ever see you again, people like me don't go to heaven like people like you. But I might, just maybe, see you again. That will be my only hope, and my only thought as I die, as the flames consume me. Soon enough, we'll be together like it should have been. If not, goodbye forever, my love," he spoke softly to the stone that represented her death. He touched the wet, muddy grass beneath him, knowing she was under him too, six feet under.

Yours forever,

Isabella Swan

She signed her maiden name, because, he knew, she didn't love the man she married, not like she should have, not like what was right for him. It was the last gift she could give him. The hope that, were they ever to be together again, she would be his. It was a reminder, that no matter what he had done, she would always be his to do with as he pleased.

He stood slowly, thoughts of the beautiful suicide he had planned dashing through his mind, his thoughts on Bella, the temptation of maybe seeing her again too much to handle.

And we'll meet again someday. Someway. Somehow. Because love lasts forever.

And it will always be for you, my dear.

A/N: So, hope you liked it, it's amazing I think. Review please. It may be a bit dark, but it needed to be this way, and please note that it is the product of being awake at three in the morning. I feel that if she wasn't intent on breaking promises, Bella never would have gone to Jacob. Edward always thought she'd end up with someone like Mike Newton, and so she did. She never had kids. Let me know if it was confusing at all. I really like this story and will continue to edit it periodically, especially if I get suggestions on how it could be better. If you didn't get it already, most of the italics, in between the paragraphs, are sentences from Bella's letter to Edward. She got the … funeral home director to put it on her grave when she was buried. I know realistically, it shouldn't still be there, but it is, don't give me grief about that aspect of it.

With love,

Kasey