A/N: Okay, so I've been doing this thing where the first three reviewers for each chapter/new story that I post get their selection of any fandom and I'll write a one-shot for it. So, I'm writing a Glee one-shot with Puckleberry as the main feature. This letter is actually something I wrote to someone who hurt me very badly and put me in the same situation that Puck has put Rachel in. I took the same letter, and just made name changes, and any other small changes that were needed.

The background for this story is that Rachel is a year younger than Puck. She does sing, but she plays the viola and is in the orchestra as well as Glee club. She prefers the orchestra to Glee, and I have it that Puck plays the bass – electric and string. So Puck is also in the orchestra. They met when Rachel was in sixth grade, and Puck in seventh. Rachel lived in California until she was ten, and then moved to Lima in sixth grade. They got to be great friends, and then started dating. But then Puck screwed up. And Rachel's off in England for the first semester of her junior year. Puck screwed things up about two months before the end of Rachel's sophomore year, and his junior year. Rachel hadn't told him about England yet, and while she's over there, she sends him this letter. Also: until Rachel's sophomore year, the two went to different high schools. Puck's nickname for Rachel was 'Kitten' because she was so small and looked so innocent, and his mom called her 'Kitty Cat'. And as you read later, Puck's father stayed. He and Puck's mom just got a divorce, and he moved about an hour and a half away. Quinn is Puck's little sister. She's two years younger than him, and a year younger than Rachel. Tina is the same age as Rachel. Mike is her boyfriend, and the three met at a strings competition. Tina and Mike met Puck at the same competition, and go to the same school as him.

Disclaimer: You know I thought it would be rather obvious since I'm writing this on Fanfiction, but since you insist: I do not own Glee.

This story is dedicated to 'twilight2892'.

2:22 P.M.

Derby, England

8/6/11

Noah:

These words are long overdue, I know, but I wasn't able to say them then. Maybe I was too hurt, maybe I didn't know how to phrase the words then, but I've learned something since that time. It doesn't matter if you are unsure of the right way to say the words, it doesn't matter how long it takes the words come – you need to say the words before they're lost. If I lost these words I know I would regret never saying them to you. I can't look at you and say them, though. Not only because it will hurt me but also because I'm a whole continent away.

There really is no point in going through the story of us to figure out how we got to this point – me wanting to hate you. We'll do that anyway, though. We'll look for where it all changed, and where it went wrong. People say the beginning is always the best place to start. Is it, though? Because I think that our story is a cycle. No one knows where it began and where it will end because it's a circle.

It was honor orchestra. I was in sixth grade, one of the few viola players. You were in seventh grade, helping out, big, macho Mr. Bass Player Who'd Already Done This. I think I was one of the few girls not in awe of you. I thought you were cocky and arrogant. Simply put? An asshole. For some reason I've never understood, I amused you. You took me as a challenge. A ladies man even then.

We got close those last few rehearsals, didn't we? I still thought you were an asshole, insensitive to girls' feelings, but you were persistent. In the end, though, I was right. No, I'm not going there just yet. That's too recent at this point of our story. I'm still talking about middle school. The event took place in high school. In middle school, we hadn't even begun to understand how serious our relationship would become, how deeply our feelings for the other would run, how quickly we would go from friends to something more, and just how dangerous that would be. One of us would have gotten hurt, that was inevitable. For us though, we were too close, too invested in the other to realize that if one were to be hurt, the other would hurt, too. Somewhere along the line we realized that. I guess you forgot that though, when you did what you did. Now we're stuck in this place with both hurting, and one wanting, trying, begging to be able to hate the other… but she can't. Because no matter how she fights it and ignores it, the piece of her that loves you is still inside her.

I was in the middle of seventh grade when I heard from you again. It was a rainy day, and I'd had a horrible day at school. I came home and there was an email from you waiting for me in my inbox. That pissed me off. I hadn't heard from you in about five and a half months, and then I find an email from you in my inbox? I was not happy. Admittedly, my response was not the best. What was it about you that infuriated me again? Oh, right. Everything. What did I say anyway? "Go to hell and fuck yourself there, bastard." Yup, sounds about right. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall and seen your face when you opened my response. There were things about seventh grade that I kept hidden from you. So many, many mistakes I made that I got hooked on. I was in a bad place then. So no, I never once thought my reply was too harsh.

You kept emailing, though, never giving up. I suppose you could say we reconnected that way, but I wonder: were we ever not connected? There were about six months of no communication, true, but we had the kind of friendship that didn't require constant communication. Not that that ever stopped us, though. :D Despite everything, you're still the person who knows every little thing about me. Or did, at least. I'm sure that there are things you wouldn't ever dream about in your worst nightmares that I've done now. We've both changed, not just me. Anyway, at the end of my seventh grade and your eighth, we were firmly reinstated in the other's life. We remained that way for two years, comfortable in the other's presence.

But then I started high school. And every little thing was different, changing. You were already in your second year of high school. We lived an hour and a half from one another during the week – when you were with your mom. We talked every day though, and we had every weekend. Your dad always was so great. How is he? I miss him. I especially miss his cat. She loved me and hated you, haha. :P "Lucy. Short for Lucifer", you always said. I always accused you of just being jealous. "Yeah. Of my dad's cat stealing my girl from me." You retorted every time, pulling me into your chest. I always just laughed and shoved you. Your dad used to watch us with a mixture of amusement and worry on his face. He knew even then, didn't he? Your mom and Quinn, too. Tina knew - what about Mike? Did he know? Seems to me that everyone knew we would become more before the two of us did. Quinn and Tina tried to warn me, you know. They said that we would just wind up hurt if we ever decided to be more than friends. I never knew what they were talking about then. Now I do. But a year and a half ago, we were still firmly in the "Just Friends" stage. Tina called it, "The Denial Stage." I guess Tina was the one who was right this time, wasn't she? Tell me, how did everyone react once they found out the reason why? I expect there was disappointment and resignation. Mike was probably pissed off. I also expect there was forgiveness as well. For those who knew us and were close to us, they would have anticipated something like that being the trigger to our explosion. It's good that they forgave you, because you won't be receiving any forgiveness from this end. Not for a long time.

Do you remember when I first realized that your feelings for me had evolved to more than friendship? I do. You want to know why? That was the first time I saw you as more than a friend. You made it to my school's fall concert. I was absolutely terrified. It was my first high school performance, and I was so afraid I would screw something up. None of my friends could make it to come and support me, and if I did have friends there, they were either performing later in the show, or they were there to support someone else. No one knew how I scared I was. You did. Even without my telling you that I was so, so scared, you knew. You showed up to support me, and you brought along Quinn, Tina, Mike, and you had even talked your dad into coming. You had begged your mom to drive you out. Although as you later told me, it didn't take much. But that was when I realized.

It seemed to the both of us that it should have become something more then instead of March. But I didn't – I wasn't sure that you really did care for me as more, so I entered a relationship with someone else. I think part of the attraction was that he wasn't anything like you. I hadn't known him for years, he didn't know automatically when something was wrong with me, and I couldn't hide anything from him. You'd be surprised by how much I've managed to hide from you, Noah. I don't think you'd like the amount. Anyway, now I know how much I screwed things up by dating Finn, but he wasn't anything like you. That was good at the time. I wouldn't have been able to handle dating anyone who was similar to you. As it was, it was hard enough dating someone who wasn't you.

His name was Finn. Finn Hudson to everyone else, but always just Finn to me. I know that you don't want to hear about my relationship with Finn, or any of this really, but I need you to hear my side of this. I need you to understand why I don't think I can forgive you for a while. He could make me feel beautiful. Finn, I mean. At the same time, he could rip everything away from me. He sang to me and was such an ass, but he had his moments when he was so sweet. He was smart, but Finn's one major flaw was that he had a really bad jealous streak. It was as big as the Mariana Trench is deep. When we broke up it wasn't because of anything he'd done. Or because I thought that maybe I had a chance with you. It was because Finn saw me with Sam. Don't even think of making that face. I know how little you think of Sam but he's my oldest friend, and like my older brother. He even has the over-protective thing down. Which was why he was so pissed when you and I broke up. I didn't tell him the reason. I didn't want you hurt, even after everything. Don't scoff at me. I seriously doubt you would be able to fend Sam off. He's already pure muscle, but I don't even want to think about what he could do when angry. Anyhow, Finn saw me with Sam, and he… thought I was cheating on him. Like you did to me… At any rate, there was a big blowout, and we broke up. From here, you should know the rest.

All I want to know is why. Why did you kiss another girl? Why did it have to be her? Why did you hurt me? The last thing I ever, ever would have done was hurt you, so why did you hurt me? Why did I suddenly not be enough for you? I'll never get answers to these questions I know. I wish, but no it will never happen because I will never be able to look at you and ask these questions. I'll cry if I do, I know. And I have put too much effort already into not crying every time I think of you. The only reason I haven't cried during this letter is because I've become numb. After all, nothing can touch you; hurt you when you're numb. But if I were to see you, to hear your voice, the numbness would vanish. And right now, being numb is my only defense against you. I wish I could hate you. Hating you would be a much better defense than numbness. I find however, that a part of me will not let me hate you, to wish I didn't care about you anymore, didn't love you. Don't start doubting yourself now, Noah. I did write 'love'. I suppose now you know why I can't bring it in myself to hate you, but at the same time, am unable to forgive you.

I didn't start this letter with the intent to hurt you, you know. I think it's a bit too late for that because I've just remembered: If one of us hurts, so does the other. Well, we're both hurting now, so I don't see how this can make things much worse. Some people have time and so much more on their side. We didn't. Maybe in a few years, time will be on our side. If not, maybe we've already had and lost our chance. I doubt it. How about you? Do you think that we've already had and lost our chance? Please don't say no. I love you, Noah. Really, truly, and purely. I think our chance is somewhere in the near future, and that we were too soon. Our love is the kind that you have to work for, to fight for, and I believe that that's the best kind. You know me. I don't think the relationship that has no fights and no struggles is going to last. Love is anger, jealousy, tears, laughter, hope, and happiness all rolled into one. We have all of those. They defined our relationship. The main two components at this moment are anger and tears. That isn't any sort of solid basis for a relationship. I need to be able to look at you without wanting to cry and scream at you, to punch you repeatedly, or to throw something at you. I need to forgive you, Noah. And you need to learn about the proper way to treat a girl and her feelings, because the way you treated me and my feelings? That wasn't it, and you know it.

This letter was written over the course of five hours. I think I should say goodbye now. Please tell your dad I say hi, and that I'm sorry I didn't have the chance to give him my bruschetta (SP?) recipe before. Tell Quinn I miss her, and that just because you and I ended, doesn't mean that I don't want anything to do with her. She has my email and number. Give my love to your mother, and tell her, "Kitty Cat is starting to purr again." Give Lucy at least a ten-minute cuddle from me. The scratches shouldn't be too bad as long as you tell her it's from me first. Don't tell me that she's a cat and doesn't understand what you're saying. Lucy's smart. Tell Tina I'm expecting an email from her soon. Tell Mike I miss him, and that I've sent one of my bear hugs to him. I wish he and Tina and Quinn were here with me now. I could use my friends and older brother right now.

I love you Noah, and I'm on my way to forgiving you. It's just going to take a while.

Right, so that's the end. Tell me what you think of it. All those words that I wrote for this are actually something I wrote to someone who hurt me. If you've ever been put in a situation like the one I've written about, it hurts doesn't it?