Life had betrayed Susan Parrish. But saying that made her look selfish, as if the time she had with her 'love at first sight' wasn't enough. Three years, they had. Three beautiful, and sometimes, during the times following his departure, hard years. Same eyes, different expressions of love. Same hands, different movements and caresses. Susan had loved him though, and now he was gone. A drunk driver in a head on collision, just like that a love, that should have been unstoppable, was gone.

Allison tried to to comfort her, and Quince awkwardly changed subjects, but they were feeling as bad as Susan was. First one love then the next. It was times like these Susan wished she could speak to her father. His otherworldly advice always comforted her, it was nice having someone who understood you. Even the man who now lay in a coffin in front of her had a way of avoiding the most important topics. He was funny and charming, and knew how to make her smile, or cry, or laugh her brains out, but she couldn't help but feel shut out sometimes.

Susan felt bad to be a nuisance to Allison and Quince, since Allison's chemotherapy seemed to be having harsher and harsher effects on her body. The cancer that had only been discovered a year ago has spread to Allison's lymph nodes. Susan was the only one left at the funeral. She watched as the strange contraption was lowered into a perfectly shaped hole in the ground.

She was still there, hours later, staring at the glossy surface of the headstone. A single teardrop fell, and Susan pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth to keep from losing all of her composure. "I wish," she thought, "that I were dead." He had once told her that he would take care of her, if they were ever together, and he had. And now the hopelessness was getting to her. Soon she would have no one.

"I wish I were gone," she whispered.

"You shouldn't say such things lightly, Susan. Someone passing by might think you're serious." She didn't look up to the calm voice speaking above her, she knew who it was and what face he would be wearing.

"How do you know I'm not joking?" she asked. The wind was cold on her face, and she knew that her nose would be turning a light shade of pink by now, along with the apples of her cheeks. "I could be completely serious."

"But you're not," he said, kneeling down next to her. "You don't know what you ask."

"Why are you here Joe?" Susan turned around and looked into his face, so similar yet so different from the man below their feet. His eyes clear and wise, staring at her in the same way he always had, more like he was watching her instead of just merely looking at her.

"You know why."

"Then tell me." She stared into his currently expressionless eyes.

Joe sighed, "You're causing an unbalance. It's not your time… but yet-"

"It is," Susan finished his words.

He nodded, gaze flickering to the pale gray headstone. "It seems that fate is making it your decision, to stay or not."

"Well then take me."

"Why would I do that? Why would you ask that of me?"

"Isn't that what you wanted from me three years ago? For me to go with you? Well I'm agreeing now, let's go." She couldn't hold back the tears much longer, but she knew that it would only take a little more effort, and he could be convinced. Susan grabbed Joe's hand and squeezed tightly. "Please."

Joe closed his eyes as if in pain, and opened them again. "This isn't about three years ago," he said. "I'm sorry."

And then he disappeared. Leaving her hand grasping at the cold, and her green almond shaped filling rapidly with tears. She heard a voice around her, and in her head. "Go home," it said.

So she did.