For Richard

It's been ten years; ten long, dreadfully heartbreaking and beautiful years without you, but I've managed to get through them. I've managed to move on through all of the changes.

Right after you passed I could barely stand to live in our home—the place we had created together and bound ourselves in so many miraculous ways. It seemed like every corner and piece of furniture, every surface, room, and floor held some magnificent memory of us. That was the worst part: the constant reminder that we had been so perfect, yet I had lost you anyways.

But then there was our son; our beautiful and wonderful boy who looks and acts so much like you did, Santana. I would end up hating myself for thinking that it was even harder to look at him than those random places within our house. His laugh, his mannerisms, his eyes, his smile, and the way his English and Spanish words would sometimes innocently run together; they all reminded me of every little thing I had fallen so madly in love with when we first met.

I knew he was just as sad as I was, yet I couldn't be the mother he needed. Even though he was barely eight years old, he took on the role of caregiver so well—always watching me and making sure that I was eating, bathing and getting enough sleep. He would hold me while I cried and make me dinner when I was too exhausted to do it myself, even if all he could manage was soup and macaroni and cheese. You wouldn't believe the number of Kraft boxes we went through in one year. He was amazing, Santana, and you would have been so proud of him. I know I was.

I got to a point somewhere along the line where I began unconsciously blocking out our past together. I repressed the memories of us so deep within my mind, that I was actually able to start living my life again. I went through the everyday motions and returned to work, where they welcomed me back with open arms and kind, reassuring words. I took on the responsibility of motherhood again, which I know was a huge relief to Jake. He seemed so happy to have his mom back, even though he was still deeply missing you.

We packed up your things and gave most of them away to charities. Jake picked a few of your books, CDs, and t-shirts to keep. He told me that we needed to save some of your personal belongings so it wouldn't seem like you had never existed. I regret it now, but at that point in my grief, it was as if you had never existed. So I hadn't kept anything, not even your wedding and engagement rings.

Now, I wish that I could go back in time and tell our son that we didn't need those random items to help us remember you. I wish I had been strong enough to tell him that you would always be with us, in our hearts and in our memories. He would have probably still clung to your stuff anyways, but I would have felt like a better mother.

For a whole year, he slept in one of your NYU hoodies. He never let me wash it because he said that it smelled like you and reminded him of how much you loved him. I think your scent eventually faded away because one night, about a year after you left, I watched as he curled up in his bed in a plain white t-shirt and drifted into sleep. I cried that night because I was afraid that he was forgetting you. That was also the night that I allowed myself to remember again.

After that, I went back to cringing every time a saw something that reminded me of you, only this time it wasn't like a giant merciless stab to my chest. It was painful, but I felt content at the same time. The memories reminded me that you had been happy; that we had made you so deliriously happy, and that you had died the happiest woman in the world. I clung to that knowledge, remembering that you had left us in peace and without pain.

Simple routines became difficult, and I cried more than I had when I was in denial. Mornings were the worst because I would leave the comfort of sleep knowing that you wouldn't be waiting for me on the other side.

The way you would wake me up in the mornings with sweet words as you wrapped your arms tightly around my torso. The way you would whisper that you loved me like it was the most important thing in the universe, and you needed to remind me so I would never forget. The way you would make me breakfast in your scanty pajamas, always sexy and breathtakingly beautiful at the same time, and then kiss me so perfectly before I rushed out the door with our son. Mornings had once been my favorite part of the day, but they became contaminated with ache at the lack of your presence.

For five years, I continued to drift in what seemed like an immobile limbo. I went back and forth constantly. I was fine, and then I wasn't. I was fine, and then I wasn't. And it continued like that for what seemed like a lifetime.

I watched as our son grew into a kind young man. He was so sweet, like you had always been to me, and he was supportive of the decisions I made for our family. We moved out of our house in New York and left the city to go back home to Lima. I was too lonely without you, and I needed my family's support.

Another year passed, and Jake started high school at McKinley. Walking back through those hallways was extremely painful at first. It was like being back in our old home because everywhere I looked, I was reminded of us. It got better over time, but I still felt a tiny throbbing in my heart every time I took a step down those hallways.

That was the year I met Sarah, though; she was one of the teachers at McKinley. She was so kind and caring, and took the time to become one of my closest friends. We got coffee together almost every Saturday and took long walks at the park, where I talked mostly about dance and Jake. At one point, I realized that she wanted more out of our relationship, but I was so hesitant because of you.

Jake didn't like it, but I agreed to go out on a real date with her eventually. She was sweet and took me to BreadstiX, where she comforted me while I cried pathetically at the dinner table. She took care of me in a way that I hadn't let anyone since you left. I knew that she was deeply in love with me in that single moment.

We were together for a whole year before I let her touch me. As much as I wanted to share that part of myself with someone again, I still felt like I was cheating on you. You were the perfect lover, and I was afraid that I would be a disappointment with anyone that wasn't you. But, she took her time, so gently and passionately, and made love to me like there wasn't anything else she wanted in the world. And it changed me, forever.

In that moment, I realized that I cared for her very much. I realized that it was possible to move on from a once in a lifetime love and fall for another. I realized that I was healing, for the first time since you had died. I was healing in the most beautiful and intimate way, and it ironically broke my heart at the same time.

So for the past four years, I've let Sarah continue to heal me. And six months ago, I made a promise to her that I never thought I would make again. I promised that I would stand before our friends and family and commit the rest of my life to her; a life that is regrettably without you. And today is our wedding day, Santana.

Jake is a man now, still so beautiful and brilliant in every way. He is the spitting image of you, and I feel so proud. He graduated high school this past spring at the top of his class, and he's come back from NYU for this special occasion. I tell him everyday how much I love him and miss him, even though I know he feels embarrassed to receive calls from his mother daily.

I can see him watching me out of the corner of his eye now, while he speaks to various people. I know he's checking to make sure that I'm okay and not going to do anything rash. He's slowly and tentatively learned to care for Sarah, just as I have, but he has never stopped loving his departed mother—the one whose biology gave him life. He knows that today is hard for me because I was only supposed to marry once. But thirty-one is too young to lose the love of your life, and life's too short to live without love.

I know Sarah is watching me closely, too. She doesn't understand as well as Jake does, but she knows that I still get sad when I think about you. Today reminds me of our wedding day, and I have been holding back tears for the past few hours so my soon-to-be wife doesn't notice how much I'm still missing you. I love her so much Santana, I do. But I wish more than ever that I wouldn't have to lie when I tell her she makes me happier than I have ever been in my entire life. Because no matter how happy I am at this moment, I know it is only a fraction of the happiness I felt when I married you.

It's wrong, I know it is, but I can't allow myself to hurt her, the woman who has so graciously given herself to me. She tells me she loves me more than she has ever loved anyone. She tells me she will love me until the day I die, and I hope that is true because I don't think I can stand to lose any more.

Jake comes to stand next to me. I can see the serenity and calmness in his eyes, and for the first time today, a tear rolls down my cheek. He tells me that he loves me and gives me a warm hug; I hold onto him for dear life. He laughs and my heart melts because it reminds me of you. He says the wedding's about to start, and my heart skips tumultuously as my smile fades. He asks me if I'm alright, and I simply nod my head.

Then, he holds out his hand in a fist, and I stare at him confused. He tilts his head to the side and takes a deep breath before releasing his firm grip and opening his palm.

There, nestled in the crevices of his soft hand is your engagement ring. I stare at it in bewilderment because I haven't seen it in years and assumed that it got misplaced when we had packed up your things so long ago.

He says that he kept it and that he's sorry he never returned it to me. He tells me that it's the last belonging of yours that he has and was too stubborn to give it back. He looks deeply into my eyes, as if he's peering straight into my soul, and he says that it reminds him of you. He says that it reminds him of how much you loved me and the beautiful and inspiring life we shared together.

My eyes tear up and become foggy with water, so I brush the back of my hand across my face. He's too perfect for words, Santana.

He says that he wants that love someday—that amazing, once in a lifetime love—and that he wants to be able to share the legacy of his lost mother with his wife. I place one hand on his cheek and the other to his outstretched palm. I curl his fingers back over your ring and hold his hand firmly. He raises a questioning brow.

For your wife, I tell him. I want you to give this ring to the woman who makes you as happy as she made me, I finish. He grins your grin and I pat his warm cheek softly.

We stand there for what seems like forever, suspended in frozen time, until he takes my arm and pulls it through his own. I wipe the few remaining tears from my face and take a deep breath. Jake keeps a protective eye on me the whole time. I know he's noticed the sudden hesitation that has unwelcomingly appeared across my now tense face.

I can't help it; the feeling that this wedding is somehow wrong. It's unexpected and confusing because I know how much I love Sarah and how much she wants to be married to me. But, I can't stop thinking that it's not fair because I will never love her as much as I still, so desperately and willingly, love you.

I cough at the immediate release of emotions surging through my heart and lungs, and the pain begins coursing through me just like the moment when I lost you forever. I haven't felt this intense hurt in so long, that it takes me by surprise, and I'm finding it harder to breathe as every second passes.

Jake puts his other hand on my shoulder to look me in the eyes and to help support my slowly deadening weight. I can see the worry sketched across his face.

I've moved on, I've heeled; I've learned to live without you, Santana. I truly have. But in this instance, I'm back to the moment where I felt my whole world turn upside down. I'm feeling the same raw agony that had consumed me the days and weeks after you passed, and I can't help but sadly think that even a decade hasn't made a difference. Even after ten long, dreadfully heartbreaking and beautiful years, I still love you and miss you more than ever.

But the moment passes, faster than it arrived, and I know I can't back down; because I have suddenly realized that these moments of hesitation will forever haunt me and cause me to question the love I have for Sarah. It's cruel, but indisputable, and it makes me face the harsh reality that I will never get over you.

But Sarah loves me, probably just as much as I love you, and I can't inflict the same pain on her that had been unfairly forced upon me. So I will give myself to her, selflessly and painfully, for the rest of my life.