"And so .. What have we gained? We have almost 50 years and we have worn out our friendship, without ever being able to make love .."

"Actually, I remember .."

"It 's been more than 30 years ago, San!"

"But for me it is as vivid as if it had happened five minutes ago .." The blonde smiled gently lowering her eyes, closing them to remember and enjoy those moments so far.

"Yeah .." she whispered, feeling tears come to the surface. Santana reached out a hand on her leg, very gently. "But for so many years we have lived in the dark, for fear.. of what, then? " The blonde continued.

"I can not remember.." the brunette confessed truthfully.

"We lost 30 years of our love, for nothing!"

"No," she stopped her, determined, without anger, "we had lived our love in our own way, staying with one for the other, always, even now." she concluded, smiling, looking for a certainty, the only one who had always had. The blonde squeezed her hand with the other, on her leg, and looked at her sadly.

"Staying close to each other while I was married to Artie and you.. Sharing the bed with several loops..."

Santana felt a note of regret in her voice, knowing that in all these years Brittany had suffered for her escapades, because she jumped from one bad to another; but it was also true that in the end she always returned to hers, she always returned from her Brittany, for cuddling, love, and everything.

Artie had all figured out by now, he had understood before engaged to Brittany; he had realized during their engagement, for the sadness of his girlfriend in their moments of intimacy; he realized later, when, once married, Brittany often slept in the guest room and, who knows like, the morning after Santana was there to have breakfast with them. But he could not blame her. It was not a marriage of love on both sides. And he knew that Brittany was linked to the brown girl, then left her free to live their love, as long as they could.

Santana left the trail of memories and returned to reality.

"I never stopped loving you .."

Brittany closed her eyes, squeezed them, squeezed the hand of the other and west quietly, while her friend looked at her, and she squeezed her again.

"I wanted a life for us, only us, but we wasted our time.." the blonde finally said.

"I regret nothing except the fact I've given you too little love and respect.."

Brittany, who listened to the words of a grown, changed, affectionate Santana, she felt the tears come down stronger and painful.

"I love you.." the blonde whispered.

"I love you"

Brittany shook her hand again. And Santana, looking at their clasped hands, hands wet with tears of the blonde, she realized. Her cheek began to moisten slowly, she could not stop the tears.

"You're leaving me, Britt?" Brittany let out a cry of despair, restrained for so long, broken tears that flowed for too long now. Sobs shook her, occasionally, as she shook their hands stronger.

"It should not end like this.." muttered the dark girl, trying to hide her voice breaking by tears, her breathing broken by tears and trembling.

"It should not end .." corrected the blonde with all the forces she had to fight her body and her self-destruction.

"You've become wise, my sweet love..." Santana stroked her cheek, looking lovingly into her eyes, those blue eyes that she had always loved.

The blonde approached her cheek to her hand, to deepen the contact, that longed caress. She kissed her hand, kissed her skin, kissed her perfume, for the last time. Squeezed her eyes in a grimace of pain, wetting her palm, with moist eyes and wet cheek. "Let me just .. One thing .. Why now?" Santana said in a whisper.

Brittany looked wet on her, and looked hard at her hazel eyes before answering.

"Because we are now old and unable to live this love anymore.. and.. I'm dying, San .. I'm dying."

Santana could not stop the tears of catapulting off, wetting her cheeks, her shirt, her jeans. She could not believe it and would never accept that reality. And most could not believe that it must deviate at a time so important in her life.

"I want to .."

"I do not care what you want" Brittany said with decision, almost angrily "I do not want you to see me wither more than it already, I do not want to know you cry for me in the other room when I have one of my attack, I need to know you safe from all this pain, I want to know that you will remember me how I was, a stupid blonde completely and madly in love with you, forever! Although I wish that you were the last thing I see in this world .."

Santana began to cry loudly, unable to restrain herself, unable to say something. "You've never been a dumb blonde, Brit! You are and you will be forever my only love, keep it in mind!"

She went near to the blonde and, between tears, she kissed her, kissed her salty lips, dirty for their tears, and kissed her forehead, squeezing eyes to get rid of this nightmare.

But when she opened them nothing had changed. Brittany was still sitting in front of her, still weeping watched her, unable to say anything.

So she kissed her again, and Santana remembered that old passion, that never extinguished passion, and she kissed her lips tightening her face in her hands, and Brittany left her to do, let Santana will take the last part of that love, because nothing had remained that she can give to her but could not deprive herself that final touch.

A noise was felt behind them; It was Artie who arrived on wheelchairs, creaking on the floor. He saw them kissing, he saw Santana's shoulder that is straining toward who was his wife, which he knew he had never possessed the heart. Santana was always entitled to take care of her, and Brittany took care of both. He watched them, with a sad smile, knowing that he failed in his life and he caused the failure of his wife. He had prevented her from continuing her career as a dancer for his problems and he had prevented her from loving Santana as it should. He cursed himself cause he had learned to love, his Brittany.

He knocked at the door warmly to announce his arrival and Santana broke away quickly, looking nervously at the room. She was almost 50 years and she was ashamed to be caught kissing Brittany yet, then in front of Artie, who had confessed hearing them several times making love in near rooms.

"It 's got your taxi" Artie announced, guilty once again of their separation. Santana looked back at her beloved in the eyes, silently begging her to be able to stay, to can try to love her as she had never done. Brittany stood up and walked to the door.

"Here we are .." she whispered, lying, pretending to be stronger than it had ever been. Santana continued to stare, did not want to let her go, not so soon.

"Can I call you..?"

"No" replied hardly the blonde, without hesitating a moment. Santana lowered her head and Brittany relented for a moment. "It would be heartbreaking for both .." she tried to explain, although it was useless. Santana recapture the hands of the other, watched them to fit perfectly.

"They were meant to be together.."

"We are .." Brittany said, filling little brunette's heart with joy.

"Goodbye, my friend" Santana whispered; And their hearts squeezed both, because after so many years, after their love and their bodies were united, they still have to call themself friends, because beyond all, is what they would always be. Their hands do not want to be separated.

Santana once again, this time really the last, she rose on tiptoe and kissed her. It seemed like back in high school, when between the empty corridors or the cheerleaders' locker room, the brunette stretched to reach the mouth of the other. It seemed to go back to those days of youth, made up of pride and stupidity, that made the two women, young secret lovers.

"You're still beautiful..." Santana whispered, moving away to look into her blonde's blue eyes were wet again.

"You were always the most beautiful!" Brittany remembered with a smile. And Santana threw herself into her arms, to tighten her more, more, more. Desperately.

She dipped her shoulder, her skin and her neck. She kissed it and then she walked away. Without turning, without showing her still wet and shaken face, without showing her grimaces of pain, stomach cramps and legs without strength. She went in the yellow car and drove off.

While Brittany, abandoned at the door, slid to the ground, knowing that there would never be an easy and painless way to say her goodbye.

Artie came up slowly to help his wife; He let her lean on his legs, and stroked her hair and whispering nonsense words.

"It's been the best decision, you had to let her go, now you have to forget her, think to take care of yourself"

No, maybe Artie would never understand, no one could. Their love was still alive, was indelibly stamped, as the taste of a kiss on her lips, as the memories of those nights together. Their hands would no longer be touched but their hearts were still would always belonged to each other, whatever things had happned.


And so on the sidelines, away under a tree, Santana was present at her funeral a few months later. She looked at the crowd huddle beside the coffin, crying and whispering. She was on the sidelines, waving to her friend again, from afar, feeling her heart breaking, her eyes take in a thousand pieces, knowing that she would never see her again, knowing that Santana had been her last thought.

"Goodbye, my love"