A/N: Hi. :) This is my first Twilight fanfic, though I've been writing other fics for a long time now. I'm sure others have probably come up with an idea similar to mine but understand that I am definitely not trying to steal anyone's story. I was writing this before I ever came to this site and I have it loosely outlined in my head. Maybe you could call this AU, I don't know, but the characters will more than likely seem different.

One other thing, I already picked out a couple songs I'm going to use in the story but if you have any suggestions send them along. I may have another purpose for them. :) Expect Evanescence and maybe some Jem. I just won't be using a ton of songs in the story even though music is what it's all about essentially. I don't think you'd like to read a huge amount of lyrics and I don't really want to write that.

Disclaimer: All characters from the Twilight universe belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just borrowing them for a bit and will return them without a scratch. Well, maybe all except for Edward. ;)

Without further ado, the prologue...

"Okay, if you need anything, just give me a call," Angela said as we exited my room and headed down the stairs.

"I will," I smiled, pulling her into a hug. She returned the smile and headed out the door. I stood outside and watched as she walked to her car and eventually zipped off into the night before heading back up to my room.

During the past few months I had grow much closer to Angela. I always liked her but we were both much too shy to form a truly close friendship. While in my zombie-like state she was the only person at school who honestly seemed to care about how I was doing. Jessica tried, of course, but I could see through her mocking sympathy and disingenuous smiles. I could tell she was actually glad that he left. She more or less implied that it was to be expected; that there was no way someone like me could be loved by someone like him. What a great friend she turned out to be. But it hurt, because deep down I knew she was right. I knew all too well that I would never be enough for him. He even said so himself that I was no good for him.

Mike, too, pretended to care but it was so obvious that his concern was only a failed attempt to get me to like him as more than a friend. Eric and Tyler were the same. They were like vultures buzzing around me, looking for something to salvage from the decaying carcass that was my heart. I was sad to see that when it came down to it, I really had no one at school to rely on. But then Angela came and reached down into the dark waters I was drowning in and pulled me to the surface. And I could breathe again, though it was a trying and painful process.

Angela tried to get me out of the house, to come and hang around with her. I politely refused every time. I had grown so used to the solitude of my room that I had all but completely forgotten what it was like to be around a girlfriend. Eventually, she gave up and started coming over to Charlie's. She came over most days after school and we would do our homework and talk.

Until Angela started coming around I didn't realize how badly I needed to speak to someone about him. I drove to La Push frequently to visit Jacob but I never could speak to him about it. He would listen if I needed him to, I knew that, but something about the idea just didn't seem right to me. Maybe it was because I knew the way he had always hoped one day he and I might become more than friends. His becoming a werewolf only further complicated the situation. As if Jake really needed more incentive to hate him. But despite his animosity towards the family I had one day hoped to join, he honestly helped take my mind off things. He was a good friend and no matter how I was feeling he could always make me smile. I knew I never would have survived without him.

At first Angela had to pry it out of me, but soon everything rushed forth like a river finally breaking through a dam. I never once spoke his name. I didn't even cry, though the hole in my chest threatened to tear me in two. Angela listened patiently and nodded for me to continue whenever the pain would strangle me, locking the words in my throat. When I told her everything I was amazed at the sense of relief that washed over me. It worked almost as well as Jasper's power. It felt so incredibly good to have someone else who seemed to understand what I was going through.

The next day she came over and handed me a small book from her backpack. It was white with a small pink and purple butterfly on the cover. I opened it and flipped through the blank pages.

"A journal?" I stared at her in surprise.

In response, she only smiled warmly and placed a hand on my shoulder in assurance. "Bella, you can't keep living like this. Take a good look at yourself. You're barely alive. You've got all this hurt bottled up inside and it's going to swallow you whole if you don't let it out."

"But I just told you-"

"You did," she said, cutting me off mid-sentence. "But I'm not the one who needs to hear it. He does."

Now I was truly confused. "Angela, I can't possibly tell him. He's gone off to who knows where. You know that." I stared at her in hopeless bewilderment.

Again, she smiled. "That's what the journal is for. Write down everything you would say to him if he were here. Tell him how he made you feel when he left. Let him know everything you've been going through."

I looked down at the journal and sighed. "I don't know," I mumbled. "I guess I could give it a try." After all Angela had done for me during the past few months it was really the least I could do.

"I think it'll do you a lot of good, Bella. And you know I'll always be here when you want to talk. Anytime."

I looked up and smiled. What would I ever do without someone like her?

"Thank you. For everything," I whispered as I folded my arms around her in a tight hug. She pulled back and nodded with a smile before turning to leave.

That night I cracked open the journal and began writing. It seemed silly at first. He would never hear these words. But it wasn't really for him at all; it was for me. I started by writing a letter but soon switched to poems. It seemed to come easier when I wrote in short stanzas, rather than long, drawn out sentences.

What began as a few small poems soon grew into several pages. It was as if this was exactly what I needed to do all along. As I scribbled my messy handwriting into the small book it occurred to me that it didn't hurt quite as much when I thought of him in this way. I could imagine him sitting beside me, his golden eyes glowing warmly as he watched me and listened to every word that poured from my pen. I could pretend he knew what I was feeling, that he understood how my life became incomplete the moment he left me that day in the woods. And I could fool myself into thinking he was hurting just as much as I was.

When I grew so tired that my vision was starting to blur, I closed the book and slid it under my pillow before collapsing onto my bed. For the first time since he left me, I cried. The hot tears spilled from my eyes, pulling me into a gentle sleep as the sound of my sniffling played in the background like a lullaby.

If you read, please take a second to review and let me know if you'd like to read the next chapter. :) I wasn't sure what to do with Angela since she's a minor character so I just went with how I thought she'd be.