People say falling in love is hard.
But you know what they don't know? And what they don't have?
You.
I believe them, though. I believe that falling in love is hard.
But I met you, and you made it the easiest thing in the world.
Not because you knew the entire alphabet before anyone else.
Not because you had the most beautiful cursive.
Not because you baked the most delicious cookies.
Not because you had the greatest Backstreet Boys song collection.
But because you lined the alphabet cubes in front of me and taught me how to spell my name.
But because you held my hand and guided the pencil to scribble out, "Brittany and Santana."
But because you always made my favorite red velvet cookies, soft and chewy just the way I liked them.
But because, when we sang "As Long As You Love Me," you would look deep into my eyes and mean every single word.
That's why it was so easy.
You were the prettiest girl.
Fast-forward ten years, and you were still the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on.
So I mean it when I say it was the easiest thing in the world.
It was so easy I would think about you every day, dream about you every night.
I would chuckle when I saw you smile, laugh when I saw you chuckle, cry when I saw you frown, sob when I saw you cry.
And I would fall even harder if it were for you. Because I knew you would catch me before I ever hit the ground.
You remember, don't you? How we planned to spend the rest of our lives together. How we planned to live together, have a family together, grow old together.
That night was beautiful. You were, too. And when I told you, you blushed and rested your head on my shoulder. We sat on the roof outside my window. The cool night air whispered over my skin, and I trembled. Finally, I admitted I was cold. You smiled at me, your eyes just the slightest bit disapproving. "I told you to wear your jacket," you said. I looked down at my hands and nodded. I felt your body detach from my own, and I was afraid to look up, afraid to see you angry.
"Are you angry?" I whispered.
"Never," you said in the gentlest voice I've ever heard you use.
When I mustered enough courage to look up, I saw you wriggling out of your Cheerios jacket.
"Aren't you going to be cold?"
You shook your head.
"Why?"
You draped the jacket over my shivering body and leaned against me again. "Because it makes me all warm inside when I see you warm."
"I love you," I blurted out.
You chuckled. "I love you, too."
It was the perfect night. We talked for so long my throat was dry. And all I wanted to do was keep talking.
"I think I want a house," you mused.
"I thought you always wanted an apartment when you grew up," I said.
"I want an apartment when I'm young and living my dream. Then I want to settle down, live in a house somewhere in the suburbs, still living my dream every moment of every day with you."
"That's perfect," I said under my breath.
You heard it, though. You peered into my eyes, your own twinkling in the moonlight. "It is."
"Are we going to have dogs?" I asked.
"Of course," you told me.
"Are we going to have kids?"
You smiled into my neck. It tickled in the best way. "So many," you breathed.
"What are we going to name them?"
You shrugged. "What do you think?"
"Boy or girl?"
"Whichever."
"Well, if it's a girl, I want to name her…hmmm…Delaney."
You kissed me right below my ear. "Delaney it is."
"Promise?" I held up my pinky.
You latched your pinky to mine without thinking twice and kissed me for the longest time. "Can you promise me something, too?" you asked in a small voice.
Your eyes wavered in anticipation. "Anything," I told you.
"Whatever happens, don't ever forget me."
"Never."
Our pinkies were still latched. I guess that made our promises forever.
Falling in love with you was the best thing that ever happened to me.
And then, one day, you were gone.
Why did you leave?
I was so scared.
And those angry women kept telling me to stop yelling, stop struggling, stop, stop, stop.
But it was okay because every time I saw them, I thought of you, too. I thought of you carrying that teddy bear, strutting down the hallway. And it made my heart warm again.
They kept telling me I was sick, that I was forgetting things. But I told them, no. I told them I remembered everything. I remember everything perfectly. And I would call for you. Then I would feel a prick at my arm, and I would smile again. I would think of you, and my breathing would slow down, and my eyes would flutter close.
When they opened again, I would yell your name, over and over. And then that man with the saddest smile I've ever seen and that young girl with the soft, blonde hair and deep, blue eyes would rush up to me.
I would tell them I wasn't calling for them. I would tell them I didn't even know who they were.
But that girl with the blue eyes. She was kind of familiar. She would kneel beside me and grab my hand. And her tears would keep falling onto the back of my hand, one drop after another. "It's me," she would whisper over and over. "Do you remember me?"
I would shake my head. I don't.
Her head would fall onto my hand in defeat, and, even though I don't know her, she would cry so quietly, my heart would twist in pain. I could never explain why I felt such a strange attachment to the blonde girl with the beautiful, blue eyes. Sometimes, I would even want to say her name, tell her to stop crying, that everything would be okay.
But I could never do it.
I didn't know what her name was.
Your name was the only one that left my lips. Every day, I called for you. It had gone on for so long, I lost track of the days. I don't even know what day it is now.
But a miracle happened.
You heard me.
I always knew you would hear me. You told me so.
You remember, don't you? You remember laying your Cheerios jacket over my shoulders as we stared at the stars, right? You remember telling me all I had to do was call your name, right?
I always knew you would come back to me.
And when you appeared at the door, I smiled.
You smiled back at me, but tears filled your eyes. It was the most bittersweet of moments.
Then she rushed up to you. The girl with the deep, blue eyes.
The tears building up in your eyes tumbled over when you saw her, and you flicked your eyes back and forth between the girl and me, biting your lip so hard I thought I saw blood.
The girl took your hand and held it tight. "Thank you for coming," she choked through her tears.
You nodded vigorously. After you wiped your tears away, you smiled at the girl. "And you must be…?"
The girl finally let go of your hand. "Delaney," she said. "I'm Delaney."
You looked like you were about to cry again when the man with the saddest smile entered the room.
Delaney pulled him close to her and gestured at you. "She came, Dad," Delaney whispered.
The man hugged you so hard, I was surprised you could still breathe. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he mumbled into your shoulder.
You patted his back. "I should've come a long time ago."
He released you and smiled.
"How is she?" you asked, though your dread-filled eyes told me you didn't want to know.
"It's getting worse," he told you. "At first it was just little things. Then we started having to remind her of our names. And now she doesn't even remember us. We keep reminding her, but she forgets again."
You gazed at me, your eyes weaker than I've ever seen them. Slowly, you made your way to my bedside.
I smiled and grabbed your hand.
You squeezed my hand back.
I sighed. "You came back."
You nodded, tears spilling freely out of your eyes.
"You came back, Santana," I said to you.
And you nodded and nodded and cried and cried.
"I told you," I said. "I told you I'd never forget you."
