Four months. Four long, hard months it had been without the love of his life. Without the constant sunshine that silly brown haired boy brought into his life; the loss was slowly killing him.

Over time, he had begun to believe that he would never come back from this loss. With his best friend gone, there was nowhere left to turn. There was no one to talk him down from this over bearing sadness that loomed over his life like a rain cloud.

Phil remembers unmistakably what had happened that day. Looking back on it, it seemed his perception turned everything into slow motion, even before he knew what was behind that door.

A lifeless body amidst a room adorned with secrets that Phil was never trusted with. It destroyed him to think that after all of that time together, Dan couldn't come to him with his problems. He would have helped, done everything in his power and then some to save him, but that was all in the past now.

Phil got up from his bed. It used to be his safe haven. Wrapped in Dan's arms, he was shielded from everything. Now, it was the farthest thing from home. It almost felt wrong to stay in it, to fall asleep with that empty space next to him. Especially since that space used to contain something more precious than anything else on the planet.

He didn't even bother to shower; he hardly bothered to do anything that he was meant to do. The hollow cavity where his heart and soul used to sit overpowered his will to do anything for himself. He was utterly hopeless and alone.

Trudged through the hall, passed the god forsaken door that caused him all this pain, he made his way towards the lounge. Every time he passed that door, he forced himself to stop in front of it, reaching his hand out to feel the wood. Somewhere in his brain he believed that if he tried hard enough, touching the door would bring back the feeling of touching his Dan.

By the time he was able to draw away from the door and choked back some tears, the doorbell rang. He didn't care that his hair was disheveled or he was only in his boxers, it didn't matter anyway. The only person he bothered to look good for was the one person with whom would never look at him again.

A small box. There was no return address, no clue as to where it came from. There was only his name and address staring back at him. He placed it on the table, not bothering to open it for fear of it being another sympathy gift. He had received a lot of those over the time and each one ended up where they were meant to be, the dumpster.

He went about his day just like he would any other, sitting on the couch and starring and the blank wall before him. There was no sound anywhere and the only light that was in the room was the small blinking lights from the cable box. A part of shutting out the world involved lots of black out shades and the ability to turn off his mind.

Before he knew it, the day was over. Every single day had been the same since the incident. He got up, ignoring the pain in his stomach for food. Eating used to be a pleasure of his, but now it only made him sick.

He picked up the box on the way out of the lounge, carrying it into his room. This time, while passing Dan's room, he didn't even bother to stop. The small box in his hands already reminded him way to much about the life he used to enjoy.

The box sat staring at him for a good hour. Debating back and forth in his mind whether or not to delve into the realm of pain even more so than normal. It was almost as if an angel was on one shoulder and a devil on the other. He held a box cutter in his hand, moving it back and forth between his fingers.

Eventually the devil won and Phil ripped the package open as fast as he could. The first thing he noticed was a note that seemed to have been opened several times. He placed it on the bed next to him and continued looking through. A phone charger accompanied by a phone lay in the bottom.

He quickly plugged the phone in since it was already dead. It was an older model smart phone, but it still seemed to be in working condition as a light popped on indicating it was charging. After throwing the box on the ground, he gently opened the letter, his mouth gaping open at the sight.

Dan's hand writing. His swoopy, cute little messy letters covered the page, breaking Phil's heart all over again. Tears welled up in his eyes, causing his vision to blur so much so that he couldn't even read the paper. Dan had written him a note before he died and that was enough to put him over the edge.

My reasons why. Phil was confused, more than he had ever been. Dan wanted him to know why he did what he did. Dan wanted Phil to take the phone and do as it told him to, to learn about all the people who let him down. Did that mean that he was one of them? Was he a reason behind his own heartache? He couldn't be.

His mind started to panic. What could he have done differently? If he could just go back in time and take back whatever reason it was that dealt with him, he would. He would do anything for Dan.

The whirl of thoughts going through Phil's mind caused him to get light headed. He rubbed his head, desperate for everything to stop, but it wouldn't. The pain kept getting worse until he passed out, allowing him to finally get some decent sleep for the first time in who knows how long.