Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer and do not own Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse or Breaking Dawn.

My name is Bella Swan. I am fairly popular for being a klutz. I have six freckles on my left arm and none on my right. I have double eyelids and a snub nose. Once, when I was seven, I broke my ankle cycling. When I was twelve, I tripped during a dance and fell into the punch bowl. I have been pantsed twice. I have had a fake sex video circulated. All that pales in comparison to the fact that my boyfriend and childhood friend doesn't give a shit about me.

His name is Edward. We grew up together as neighbours, and eventually, when he moved away, as friends. I'm not sure when acquaintance became friendship, but I recall vividly when friendship became romance. We were twelve, and I was recovering from the trauma of humiliating myself in public. He came up to me, shyly handed me a little doll, and we just started dating.

February 3, 2008 was when I told him I loved him. We were fourteen years old. I had been fretting over the moment for ages when I finally blurted it out.

He stared at me, his face paler than usual.

"Um..um.."

I bit my lip nervously. He swallowed and thrust me a doll, the same fucking doll he had been giving me everyday for 2 years. I swallowed back my tears and nodded as he walked off, almost running in his haste to leave.

Was I that horrible to look at?

Maybe I should have made myself clear. I had always thought we were exclusive. Clearly we weren't.

On March 21, 2009, I invited him over to my house. We were fifteen at that time-well, he was fifteen. I was technically still fourteen.

"Hey..um, do you wanna come over?"

He bit his lip and deliberated for a while before shaking his head. "Sorry. I can't."

I felt my hopes deflate. "Oh," I said, disappointment evident in my voice. "Why? Do you have to study?"

This was a very likely situation. Edward was Edward. He studied a lot, determined to make his father proud. I knew he secretly wanted to become a doctor, just like his father. He was eager for attention. His parents were divorced-he had had a bad childhood. I knew because of the numerous times he came over to my house crying because his mother was drinking or his father had got into a fight with Emmett.

I knew a lot of things about Edward.

"No," he said slowly. "I'm meeting a friend. Sorry," he added apologetically.

I bit the insides of my cheek and nodded.

A few hours later I saw him at Burger King with a pretty blonde I had never seen before. He was looking at her with a glow I had never seen on him when looking at me.

I discarded my burger and ran home, tears pouring down my face.

As the days passed, the dolls he gave me every day without fail began to take over my room.

September 13, 2009 was my fifteenth birthday. I had endured numberous questionings from my mother-why isn't Edward coming over?-and had stubbornly stayed by the phone, waiting for him to call.

At eleven PM, I gave up and went to bed.

He had forgotten my birthday.

At two AM sharp, my cell rang. I immediately answered it. It was Edward.

"Hey," he said, his soft voice filling my ear. "Look out your window."

Of course I got up and padded over to my window, looking out-because I would do anything for him-and there he was, standing in the pouring rain with his bronze haired plastered to his face. I broke into a huge smile and he leapt up the tree and clung onto the branch, balancing himself precariously. He held out that familiar little doll.

"Hey," he murmured, looking at me. I reached out and grabbed the doll. "I'm sorry I didn't meet you earlier. I got caught up in something. Happy birthday."

I broke out into a wide grin. He remembered.

He turned to leave, and I was suddenly seized with an uncontrollable urge. "E-Edward? Say that you love me," I asked, the desperation clear in my voice. "Please. Just...just say it."

Edward froze, one foot on the ground and the other on the tree. "I..."

"Edward," I pleaded.

He inhaled. "I can't." He looked up at me, his eyes wide and pleading. "I can't confess my love just like that. I-I'm sorry."

He turned and fled.

I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.

I cried.

I was an idiot for not leaving him-I knew that. The problem was, I just couldn't. For as long as I had known, my life had revolved around Edward, either as friends or as a couple. Being without Edward as an individual...it scared me.

For the next month, Edward continued meeting me every morning, handing me the dolls like nothing was wrong.

On December 28, 2009, I saw Edward at the park with another girl. She was tall and statuesque, and he was holding a doll-the same dolls he gave me every morning-and touching it while smiling gently.

I felt my heart shatter.

He had probably gotten those dolls from other girls. Other girls. I tried wrapping my mind around that concept, and was devastated when I realized it wasn't hard to comprehend. Edward deserved so much more than me.

I ran home-why does this feel like deja vu?-and threw myself on the bed.

From outside, I heard Edward yelling. He had seen me.

That just made me cry harder.

January 7, 2010 was our fourth year anniversary. We would both be turning sixteen this year.

Four years of dolls were in my room.

Edward texted me at 10.50 AM, asking me to meet him outside my house. I went downstairs and found him standing on the sidewalk, clutching a huge doll. His eyes widened when he saw me.

"Bella? You actually came?"

I couldn't help hating him.

"What do you want?"

He bit his lip and held out the doll. All the anger I had been holding it bubbled up. I snatched the doll and threw it onto the street.

"What makes you think that'll make it better?" I screamed. "Do you know how much pain you've caused me? Do you?"

Edward took a step back. "Bella...you don't understand."

He turned, and for a brief moment I thought he was going to leave me again, but instead he walked out onto the street and bent down, looking at the doll.

A large truck appeared at the end of the street, barreling down.

My heart stopped.

"Edward!" I shrieked. "Edward, move!"

Edward ignored me and knelt down, picking the damn doll up. "Move, dammit!" I shouted.

The truck honked.

"Edward, move!"

He didn't.

When I saw him get hit...I knew there was no way he could survive.

Months passed.

February came around.

Valentine's Day.

I suddenly got up and stared at the huge pile of dolls.

Like a mad woman, I began to count them.

One...two..

Three hundred...three hundred and one...

One thousand...

One thousand four hundred and sixty.

1460.

I hugged the doll tightly to my chest, squeezing it for all it was worth.

"I love you, Edward," I murmured. "I just wish you would say it back."

I love you.

I jerked, startled, before looking at the doll. I gave it another experimental squeeze.

"I love you."

What the fuck?

I started to squeeze the stomachs of every doll. And there it was. Every single fucking doll. I relished, hearing the voice I had feared I had forgotten.

"I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you."

Finally I got to the last doll-the largest one of them all. The last one he had given me. The one with his blood still on it. I squeezed its stomach slowly.

More than three words sounded.

"Hey Bella. It's me. Do you know what today is? It's our anniversary. We've spent one thousand four hundred and sixty days together. I know you're mad at me for not saying I love you. I'm sorry, really. I didn't want you to love me. I'm not good enough, Bella. My mom is an alcoholic and my dad has anger issues. It wouldn't be fair to you. But I realized that leading you on like this isn't fair either, so I'm going to say it now. I love you, Isabella Marie Swan. Forgive me."

I stared at the doll for a very long time.

A tear leaked out of my eye and dripped, splashing exactly where a single drop of blood lay, over where the heart would be on the doll.

Knowing that Edward had loved me...even to his last day...it gave me courage. It gave me courage to move on, and it gave me courage to live the life he would have wanted me to have. That is why today, six years after Edward Anthony Cullen's death, I still wear a locket with his picture around my neck, and I will wear it even as today, I celebrate my first year anniversary with my husband, Jacob Black.

A/N: A little angst to get me through. For those waiting for me to update, I apologize, but I have major writer's block. Visit my profile regularly for updates on the progress of my writing, or just follow me on Twitter. My username is paranoiaSPLASH.

Big thank you to the ladies (and two gentlemen) over at Skype for...amusing me while I write this, and to Freya (Oxygen(dot)and(dot)Cucumber) for approving the original story.