"My dearest Collins,

I love you. I love you so much. I think you know that, but just in case you don't, I'll say it again. I love you. I hate to have to write this letter at all, I thought it'd be a long time before I'd have to say goodbye. You're sitting next to me right now, sleeping. Which I'm glad you're doing, because honey, you look like you haven't slept in days. Which is true. You being asleep also gives me a chance to write this. Thank you for staying here with me. I know I tell you to go home, so you can eat and sleep, but I love having you here. You're the only reason I'm holding on. I've written my letters to Mimi, Roger, Mark, Maureen, and Joanne, and yours is the last one. After I write this, I'm letting go. I know you don't want me to, but I have to. Being alive hurts too much, and it's not like I'm doing anyone any good in this hospital bed. I saved your letter for last, mostly because I don't want to write it. I don't want to say goodbye, I don't want to leave you. But I'm not leaving you, not really, I'll still be with you. And if I turn into a ghost (fingers crossed) then I will come and haunt you. But not in the creepy way, in the romantic way. Like how it is in all those romantic comedy's I force you to watch. Thanks for doing that, by the way. I love curling up on the couch with you. You know what Mark said the other day? He said that our love was too great for earth. Like Rose and Jack's, or Romeo and Juliet's. It was too powerful to survive on earth, the love had to be up in heaven. You know what else Markie said? He said that I was already an angel, now I'd just be getting my wings. Isn't that sweet? Even though I already told him in his letter, tell Mark I love him. Not like how I love you, of course. Collins, now my hand is getting tired and I have to get down to the point. A part of me wants to tell you to visit my grave every day, to never date or love anyone else, and that I'm waiting anxiously for you in heaven. But I can't tell you to do that. Because that would mean you would stop living, and I don't want that. Besides, I can't deprive those sexy single men of the sex appeal that is Thomas Collins. So I want you to love, get back out there. And I'll be watching you, and obviously I'll be wishing that was me with you, but I'll be proud. I'll turn to the other angel's and say, "You see him? He's the love of my life. And look! He's moving on, and he didn't turn into a depressed old man waiting to die." Keep teaching, even though you pretend to hate it, I know you love it. Keep wearing ridiculous amounts of layers, and your stupid beanies. I love them, and you should let someone else fall in love with them too. Keep laughing, I love your laugh and I want to hear it up in heaven. I love you so much.

I love you with all my heart,

Your Angel

PS. There is a lot of money hidden in the heel of my black stiletto heels. Please donate half to someone in need, and keep the rest. Keep it for a trip, something you need, an emergency, or if you fall in love, buy them an engagement ring for me. Give someone else the chance to do what I always wanted to."

"Joanne," Collins said, his voice wavering. "How long have you had this?"

"She put in with my letter, she told me to give it to you on Christmas Eve, as an Anniversary present," Joanne said, putting her hands in the pockets of her overcoat.

"Thankyou," Collins uttered, his voice cracking. Tears started slipping from his eyes, staining the pink parchment paper. He quickly folded the letter and put it in his leather jacket, he couldn't bear to look at it anymore.

Later, once Joanne had left, he sat down on the couch. He made himself a mug of hot cocoa, and filled it to the brim with whip cream. Then, he made a mug of hot green tea. He remembered when Angel used to make tea for herself, and cocoa for him. She always piled on the whip cream for him, and when he asked her why, she had replied with, "Just to make sure you always stay this sweet." Then she'd giggle and join him on the couch.

As he sipped him hot chocolate, he read over her letter once more. He read it over and over and over, his eyes tracing over her cursive letters until he had the note memorized. When he read it, he could hear Angel's voice saying the words. He knew exactly which parts she would have said lovingly, and the parts she would have said sarcastically. He could almost hear her adorable laugh hanging over his head.

When it was nearing midnight, Collins put the letter back in his jacket pocket. Then he walked into the bedroom he and Angel had once shared, and he opened her side of the closet. Nothing had been sold, Collins couldn't bear to get rid of any of her stuff. There had been many a day when he would just wrap one of her sweaters around himself, just to smell her sweet scent once more. At the floor of the closet was a rack, and on that rack were about twenty different heels. Collins knew exactly which shoes Angel was talking about, they were the black ones she was wearing the day she met Mark and Roger. He examined the shoe, and saw a piece of the heel's fabric was loose. He folded it over, exposing the hollow heel of the shoe. There was a roll of dollar bills, which he didn't bother counting, he would do it later. Also in the heel was a note. It was on a piece of faded lined paper.

I will love you all of my life and longer. -Angel