No cheesy "But daddy, I love him!" Will bring him back. Nothing ever will. I sigh. Dwelling on his loss only makes it hurt more. His funeral was accompanied by a "Ceremony of Loss" For all the friends and family members. I remember sitting beside his brother, who was only 15. How traumatizing, must that be for an innocent 15-year-old, to see his older brother, dead. How traumatizing was it for me? I mean, I was there everyday. But all, for what? To see him waste away, day after day, after day, after day. Everyday. Up until...what was it? a week ago? A month? My mind is fuzzy from lack of sleep and food. A memory struggles to unearth in my mind.

"...You're sooo meeean!" Dan said, entwining his hand with Phil's.

"What did I ever do, baby?" Phil asked, pouting his lower lip.

Dan lowered his head onto Phil's chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. "You didn't kiss me goodnight last night, Philly. I couldn't sleep without your cuddles." Dan tsked loudly, wagging his finger.

Phil laughed. "Aw, Daaaaan. I fell asleep before you, remember?"

Both Dan and Phil wrapped each other in warmth. Neither of them wanted to be the first to let go of the other.

Cancer. cancer. My little Philly was killed by stage 4 lung cancer. I can't believe he had died a mere 5 weeks after he was diagnosed. Only 5 measly weeks with him. It seemed like the first week was the worst.

As I position myself in front of the widow, I stare down at the streets of London. People bustling around, carrying bags and whatever else they could find. I reach into my pocket, and take out the note that Phil had written, his messy handwriting prominently on the page.

Dear Daniel Howell, (aka: My Everything. Hopefully only by me though :3)

I know these last weeks have been hard for both of us. Emotionally and Physically. I wish I could have told you that I stole one of your Totoro plushies. Hehehe...

I giggled. Good old Phil, giddy and beautiful. Man, was he good with words.

I remember the first time we had kissed. I admit, I was really, really, really, REALLY nervous about it. I'm pretty glad that we did though. Especially when Chris and Peej were with us. Did you see the look on their faces? PRICELESS.

I do. I do remember. PJ probably was even more happy then we were. His bottom jaw was an inch from the floor. And, yeah, Chris said, aloud, "This is platonic, but I love you, mate." Like, right in PJ's face. PJ pressed his forehead against Chris' and was so close to kissing him. He flinched back though, embarrassed. It was pretty cute though, them both blushing their asses off.

Then there's me. The really weird one, that only you like. Huh. It makes me feel more loved than if 1000 people thought that I was okay. I thank you for that, babe.

I smiled. It's true, oh so true.

And if you don't think that highly of yourself, c'mon. Give me a break. You're beautiful, just the way you are. (Okay, that was a little cheesy, but I'm being honest.) God, I wish that I could hug you right now. Cancer must've killed me if you're reading this.

Cancer comes to my mind again. God, I hate it.

Pretty much all I wanted you to know, is I love you. Nobody else would have ever put up with my antics. I never would of thought that I was gonna fall for a 21-year-old boy. I had always thought I was straight. But, the laws of everything (Is there such a thing, as 'the laws of everything'?) told me that I was gay. I never could've been happier. And, boy, did I want to spend my days next to you. EVERY SINGLE ONE.

I've always been gay. Still gay, living gay, and prospering gay.

But our lives aren't measured in years. It's measured by the people we touch around us. (CHEESY) Since I'm not there to do it, go into my room, and look in the bedside table. (3rd drawer down.)

I walk calmly into his room, finding all of his things scattered around. I lay on his bed, inhaling the scent that still lingered. His bedside table was messy, as always. I opened the 3rd drawer, and peeked around inside.

Okay, can you see it? If you can, put it on. If you can't, WHERE ARE YOU LOOKING?! Dan, I thought you were good-

I stopped reading when I found it. "That's what he wanted to do!" I squealed, picking the velvet box up. I flipped open the top, and stared intently at the silver band in the box. "Oh..." A piece of paper. Another note.

Dan,

This is the last note to you, that I'm probably ever going to write. But, I love you. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, but cancer HAD to come and killing me from the inside. But, if I was going to live (Which I'm not going to) I would have proposed. I guess I can now.

Will you, Daniel James Howell, do me the honor of marrying me? I mean, not forcing or anything, but-

"YES!"