Ted wasn't sure what to expect. It had been six years since Tracy died, and they weren't easy. He had looked for her for so long, hurting so many people- including himself- in the process, and only getting eleven years with her felt like a cruel joke. Their relationship hadn't been perfect- nothing worth it ever was- but they had loved each other as much as anyone could love anything. There was no question in his mind that Trace had been "the one." He had hit the jackpot- kaboom- with her, and no one could convince him otherwise. But after meeting her, he couldn't be sure that there was only *one* out there for everyone.
After all, wasn't Max her first "one?" She had thought for so long that she wouldn't be able to love again. That she would be alone for the rest of her life. But she was wrong. She had never told him the exact details of what had happened, but he knew that she had asked his blessing, to make sure that it was okay to finally move on. Seven years of mourning finally felt like enough.
Ted had always found it funny that the day they both let go of their former loves, they finally found each other. Just as Tracy had never given him full disclosure, he had never given her the entire story about finally letting go of Robin. It had been so long for both of them, since they had fully loved anyone else, that they had forgotten how wonderful it could be. The best part was that when he prematurely (as always- "classic Schmosby," he knew) told her he loved her, she responded that she loved him in return. And no matter how many times he told her he loved her, it was never enough.
He knew his friends had thought that the old Ted was gone- that he was no longer the boy who would steal a blue french horn for a girl, but that wasn't true. He never lost that spark, that crazy look in his eyes that told Tracy that he was so excited to have two kids with her and spend the rest of his life with her. Even after the kids were born and they were finally married. It seemed like they'd always be that young couple who had found each other when they were least expecting it.
But then Tracy got sick. Stage four ovarian cancer. It seemed like the cruelest punishment imaginable for her. "Congratulations, you've fulfilled your 'womanly duties' and become a mother! Now die!" He'd once made the mistake of using suck black humor when talking to Trace. You'd never have guessed it from looking at her, but man, did she have a temper. She flew into such a rage that Ted was surprised she hadn't decked him (note to self: "Son, never make a joke to a feminist about…"- Penny didn't need to hear this).
It hadn't been good for any of them. Tracy definitely got the worst of it- y'know, considering that it was happening to *her.* It was forcing her to realize her worst fears. And most of all, she wondered why she didn't get more time. And the thing was, Tracy was never one to complain about anything she got. She lived her life to the fullest- she just wanted more time. And Ted certainly wanted more time with her. Here was the girl he'd been dreaming of his entire life- she was real, and she loved him, and he loved her. But they had eleven wonderful, electrifying years together, and as much as he wished he could have found her earlier, he didn't. And he had to face that fact.
The girl gave as good as she got, as he discovered when they first met. This wasn't something that went away, even in her last few months. Ted recalled their one final trip to the Farhampton Inn- he'd been driving too cautiously for Tracy's liking, and she broke out the old nickname: Lady Tedweena Slowsby. God, he'd hated that nickname. But it was nice to know that she still remembered, that some things would never change. She was always a lead foot. He was almost positive that she'd picked up her habit of wearing driving gloves after becoming fascinated with Top Gear. She liked the presentation of things, she always had, and noticed and remembered the smallest details about people. But Trace was terrible with remembering dates. Ted found it funny that Tracy could tell him the most archaic details of popular culture, yet *she* was the one to forget his birthday the first year they were together.
Remembering these things was always difficult. Whenever Ted thought that he might possibly be able to move on, he passed by a woman wearing her favorite scent. He'd find an old note addressed to Teddy Bear- her nickname for him. He would be clothes' shopping with the kids, and he'd see a dress that would have suited her perfectly. He'd hear their song on the radio. And he'd be transported to that first kiss. Their wedding day. When Trace went into labor with Luke. And the day of her diagnosis. At those moments, keeping it together for even a minute could be a struggle.
So he relied on his friends more than he would have liked to. Marshall and Lily were always more than willing to help out, and Barney was… well, he was Barney. Though he'd gotten better since Ellie was born. He at least felt safe leaving the kids with him, without worrying about them being lost or taught about the bro code. Then there was Robin… Things weren't always smooth between them, but they were always close. Best friends. Sometimes more than best friends. And lately? Well, Ted wasn't quite sure. But he wanted to figure it out. He thought it might finally have been time.
Which is why he was here, pulling into the cemetery. It had been a rough journey to this point, but he'd made it. Things had been smooth for so long, and then they weren't. And finally, it looked like he might have a chance again. It wasn't that he was going to forget about Trace. After all, she was the great love of his life, and he had been hers. The one. But she had taught him that you didn't only have one shot at happiness. You could win the lottery again. Lightning could strike twice. She had meant more and been more to him than most people would ever hope to get in a lifetime. But it was finally time to let go. He would always love her, but he knew Trace would want him to be happy. So he was willing to try again. To try to be happier, for the kids sake as well as his own.
As he walked up, he tried his damnedest to think of how to word it. And what she would say to prompt him to speak his mind. God, it hurt to think of her voice. Because when he did, he always thought of the first time he heard it. Her singing La Vie En Rose, heartbroken. Him, ready to give up on ever finding happiness, also heartbroken. But their hearts had mended, and look where it got him. He was finally willing to begin again. So here went nothing.
"Trace. It's me. I hate to interrupt. I know you're probably up there singing your heart out. I hope Max has been watching out for you. -sigh- Where do I begin? The thing is, I think I've got a situation here. I think I've been holding myself back from falling in love again. And I think it's because I can't let go. I don't want to lose you, but you're not here anymore and I need to ask: Would it be okay if I… Would it be okay if I moved on? I know you have no way of responding, but… um…" And he swore, it was like she was there. He could feel her presence. Her real presence, for the first time in six years. And wind started blowing into his face, but it was more like her gentle way of teasing him. Yeah, he could hear it now, "Wow, Tedweena, took you long enough didn't it?" Ted figured he should respond, even though he wasn't sure how to. He had to try. "Um. Okay. I guess I'll take that as a yes, so… in that case. here goes nothing. But uh, I guess I should go. So I guess this is it. For real this time. Bye Trace. I love you."
So there he went. He had no clue how he was going to do it, but he was finally letting go. With Tracy's blessing. Ted realized he should probably get the kid's blessing first, too. But where to start? From the very beginning? He couldn't think of another way to do it. It was gonna take a long time…