I hope you all brought tissues, because I cried, and I'm the one who wrote it. This is all in Joy's point of view, btw. This oneshot was actually based off the song "What Hurst the Most" by Rascal Flats. (Is that how you spell it?) Disclaimer: I don't own House of Anubis. Thanks for for taking a chance on my story, and please review!

I thought I could handle it.

Nothing could faze me. I could plot revenge, get revenge, and mourn and cry alone, couldn't I? But seeing you was what kept me going...it was what made me be the girl I was. Unsure. Witty, though not as witty as Patricia. Optimistic. Stubborn. Yours.

You never liked me in that way, and though you never said so, I know you thought it. You were my first kiss, and I was yours, but we never thought about it past that day.

The sun was hot. The swings made squeaking sounds that annoyed you so much, but I loved that sound. Patricia had thrown a handful of sand in your hair and she had run off before the teachers could catch her. We were already ten, but you were near tears. I wanted to make you feel better, and I pressed my lips to yours.

I felt fireworks that day, but I knew it wasn't mutual. You never brought up that kiss, and I knew you didn't want to. It would be awkward, and I understood how awkward it would be, too. So I never brought it up either.

I didn't think too much about it, of course. Patricia always said you'd come around, and I always figured you were scared of girls or something. Or maybe you still thought them gross, like most young boys did. I always figured you'd like me back someday and we'd end up as a cute couple.

Then Nina Martin came along.

I wish I could've hated her. But no, she made you so happy, and that was all I could ever ask for- for you to be happy. It killed me how she made you smile without effort. How she could make you stutter in your most adorable manner. Because before, that was me. I could joke with you and you'd smile. I could tease you and you'd stutter.

You made me happy in a way no one else could.

It was always the little things we'd do. Sometimes we'd play simple games, like tag or card games. Other times I'd drag you into watching Twilight and you'd drag me into watching boring science films. After a while, I tried to make you mine. Jealousy had finally won me over, and things took a turn for the worst.

I tried to take your hand, but you leaned away. I tried to rest my head on your shoulder, but you moved away. Every thing I did pushed me farther away from you, not closer, and it was driving me insane. I just didn't get it. What did Nina Martin have that I didn't?

I never should have said anything rude about Nina. It not only messed up any chance at a friendship with her, but it cost me you. You left without a glance back, and that was when I hit my breaking point. I cried a lot more than I ever had before, and no one seemed to care. Not even Patricia.

I took an Amber Millington approach on the subject. I studied magazines. I read online articles. I watched every romantic film with a relationship triangle. I finally came to a conclusion: you and Nina had connected when I was gone. I couldn't blame myself for that one, but I could be mad. She had made fall in love without trying. I had pushed you away while trying.

I can never blame you for it, of course. It was never something that I took into accord. No, I never blamed you for not liking me. I blamed myself. My flat brown hair that wasn't wavy and light. My dull, boring eyes that didn't have a speck of green. My British ways that weren't American. Why couldn't I have been Nina Martin?

When I learned about Sibuna, I was excited. I had my chance to connect with you. But we still drifted apart, and all because of my failure to notice you didn't want to be more than friends. What was I expecting, honestly? That with Nina gone, you'd run to me? Fairytales sounded more realistic.

I fell for Jerome, but I really didn't. I thought I liked him, but then I realized...he reminded me of you. No, he was much more cocky, charming, and with better hair. But his poetry was like yours. His sweet words just as kind. His kiss- though more passionate- as lingering as yours had been. And maybe these things should of made me like him like I liked you, but they didn't.

No one could ever replace you.

Mara became your next girlfriend, and I, once again, found a way to blame myself over it. Because once again, you had gone with a girl you barely knew. So I wasn't as pretty as she was, or as smart, or as crafty. I just didn't see why I had failed with you again. I thought I had a chance.

I didn't know what was sadder- the fact that I was pining over someone else's boyfriend, or the fact that I already had a boyfriend.

We parted from Anubis House with tears on our faces and fingers interlocked. I didn't make any sense of why you chose my hand to hold, but you did anyway, and I couldn't have wanted it any other way. Jerome held my other hand, so it killed the moment, but I loved it anyway.

Before we all parted for good, you hugged me. For a second I recalled when you said evil words to me a while back, and I asked you about it. You mentioned something with an Egyptian God and Sibuna, so I figured that was a perfectly good reason why. I hugged you back, and I even let my lips touch your cheek before you moved on to hug Patricia.

You had moved on from something that never began, but I never did.

We went to different colleges. You studied science to your heart's content, and I kept to English, writing articles for the newspaper. Years later I found myself meeting you about a scientific discovery I was writing an article about, and we reconciled our friendship. You bought me coffee, and we talked about our lives. I had left Jerome shortly after graduation, but you and Mara had stayed together for two years before calling it quits.

You mentioned that you met Nina again, and that she was dating someone you worked with. I noted that you didn't look sad, and I knew that you had strengthened your emotions and could handle it now. I felt proud of you.

Before we left each other, you gave me something that you felt would be huge at the office. A copy of The Solar System Is Your Friend, because you said- rather excitedly, too- that it was what helped you made your discovery. I never showed it to the other reporters, writer or editors I worked with. Instead, I kept it, because it reminded me so much of you.

We kept in touch, and you called me every week to talk. We had so much to talk about, and we even talked about high school. There was a high school reunion coming up, and I agreed to go with you. In my mind I imagined it like a date, but I knew it was anything but.

You drove me to the reunion, and we sang nonsense songs all the way to Anubis House. You refused to put on any Justin Bieber, and I knew you hadn't changed. When we reached the house, Amber greeted us with her call of "Jabian!" You blushed and denied everything, and I stood there, looking away because my blush was much greater.

Jerome and Mara had found each other again, as did Amber and Alfie, and Eddie and Patricia. They were all happy; Jerome and Mara engaged, Amber and Alfie dating, and Patricia and Eddie married with a baby on the way. Their happiness made my heart ache and tears come to my eyes. When you asked what was wrong, though, I told you it was nothing. Nina, KT, Willow, and Mick were there too. You talked to Mick for a while and I stayed with KT.

Everything was normal.

You drove me back home as well, and as you left me outside my house, you kissed my cheek and thanked me for going with you. I blushed and waved good-bye lamely, and you pulled away. For a second I wondered if it was a date, but I pushed the idea out of my head; you didn't like me that way.

That Valentine's day you introduced me to a new girlfriend of yours. I had smiled and acted nice, but I was once again disappointed. She didn't like me and forbade you from seeing me, much to my dismay. But you liked me, too- at least as a friend- and you refused to. She left you and you couldn't have cared less. That's when I realized how much I meant to you.

I couldn't change myself for you. I couldn't try to show how much I loved you. You found a way to sidestep every thing I tried to do for you, and it was really hurting me.

We drifted apart after a few years.

When we met again, it was at a coffee place not far from my apartment. I had been married for a year and expecting a child. You had married and divorced, but you had no children. We talked again, and stayed in touch once more. My husband left me when the baby was born, mainly to run off with another woman, but also because he didn't want a child.

You took it upon yourself to become my little girl's father.

She loved you as much as she loved me. Every day you'd come over to help me, and every day she'd fall in love with you. Every day I stayed in love with you. Every day you'd love her more too, and I knew you wanted a child of your own. You talked about getting married again to another woman you were seeing, and I remember that day I cried for an hour. Once again, I was too short of your expectations.

I was madly in love with you now. The way you'd hold my baby girl made me see you in a new light; you were kind, considerate, wonderful. I had always thought you those things before, but now, my feelings had been reawakened.

Then something happened that changed everything.

You had been promoted to go do research at some third-world country, for medical reasons. You were ecstatic, because you loved these sort of things. I felt so sad, though, because it required you stay for a year. You had left that woman you were seeing a month ago. You promised you'd be back the second it was over, but I doubted it. You held my little girl and she had cradled up to you. Her first word was "Fabes" and she kept saying it now, trying to stop you from going, no doubt.

I don't think I'd ever seen tears in your eyes before that day.

You kissed her and laid her gently down in her crib so you could hug me. I hugged you long and hard, and that was when you kissed me- on the lips, too. You apologized afterwards, but I was on cloud nine. I admitted how I felt about you, and you admitted that you liked me, too. We were both so happy- but you still had to leave. I uttered my first "I love you" as you went, and you said it back with your shy smile.

We wrote letters, because where you were, there were no internet or cable services. I always ended my letters with "Love, Joy" and you ended yours with "Yours, Fabian." It was all I had ever wanted, and more.

But I only thought I could handle it.

I recieved a letter after you didn't write to me for a month. It wasn't from you. You had contracted a rare disease and didn't have much time left. I took my little girl and arranged to go see you, but when I got there, you were already dying. My daughter was happy, mumbling the word "Fabes" when she saw you, but I cried. A nurse held my girl and I took your hand.

You apologized for not keeping your promise, and I cried even harder. I told you that this was the one time in my life that I'd ever been happy, and now, I was going to be without the one I loved. You had placed a hand in my hair and told me you loved me for the last time. I kissed your lips and kept holding your hand, but after a few hours, I lost you.

The plane ride home was long and empty. My daughter kept saying "Fabes" through the whole ride, giddy she had seen you, and every time she did I cried harder. I had not only lost my best friend, I had lost my lover, my soulmate, my sole reason to be happy besides my beautiful daughter. She had also lost the true father she had ever known, but she hadn't known.

A service was held, and Patricia had comforted me, saying that everything happens for a reason. I knew she was right, but I still was torn about it. All of your friends attended the funeral, and my little girl kept asking for you. She was young and didn't mean harm, but it hurt me anyway.

I couldn't handle your death. It hurt me in ways that pain never could. It wasn't the pain of losing you that hurt me the most- it was the pain of being so close to you that hurt. I could only hurt about what could've been with us. For years later, I would always miss your kiss. Your touch. Your ways.

My daughter didn't remember you, and I never told her. She often saw you in pictures, but I never told her what you did. I called you an old friend, but I never told her about how you were like a father to her.

Being alone had never bothered me before. But now, without you, I was not only alone, but I had lost myself. When you died, I died too; at least in the figurative sense.

I know I should've moved on, like you mastered after years of losing your girlfriends. It would've be the best for myself and my daughter, but I never could bring myself to forget you. I don't think I ever will.

No one can ever forget their first love.