A/N: So. I have a project due today, a report due in a couple of days, another report due soon, didn't start any of those, and I am currently in the middle of writing two other stories. So what would be the smart, sensible thing to do?

Start a brand new, whole other story of course!

Yeah...You saw a sad glimpse of how my mind works.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy…okay well you probably won't enjoy it, but you know what I mean…


You fell for him.

You fell for him hard.

You didn't mean to, and you certainly didn't expect it. When you first met him you dubbed him as a dorky, Mr. Perfect, goody two shoes cowboy. Your best friend dubbed him as the perfect prince. You didn't have any problem with stepping back whatsoever. She could have him. He wasn't your type, anyway.

But then you got to know him. He wasn't just a dorky, Mr. Perfect, goody two shoes cowboy. In fact, he wasn't a goody two shoes at all, because he apparently got expelled from school in Texas. He had another darker side to him and you loved that. You loved that he surprised you and he was much more than what he seemed. That only made you want to know what other dark secrets he was hiding.

As time went on, the innocent flutter of your heart that happened whenever he looked at you turned into guilty pounds of your heart and fire in your soul. You didn't want to like him. He was Riley's prince, not yours. And it's not like he liked you back. You saw that certain, happy smile that would be reserved only for her. You saw the amused twinkle in his eyes whenever she did anything dorky or Riley-like. You saw his face light up whenever she walked into a room. You saw it. But you didn't want to believe it.

You didn't want to believe that he would greet you by tipping his imaginary cowboy hat but then turn to her with the warmest smile you could ever imagine. You didn't want to believe that he told you random, pointless things but told her his deepest secrets and stories. You didn't want to believe that he would look at you like he did everyone else but would look at her like she was his sun, moon, and stars.

But you listened to her stories. Her stories of how they went on a date and then kissed. You listened to her go on for what seemed like years describing how it felt. You listened with a smile on your face and tried with all your might to not break down then and there. Because that's how you imagined your first kiss with him. And that's how you imagined your first date with him.

"I'm so happy for you, Riles," you would say, but all you wanted to do was cry out your every last possible tear to only wait for the tears to build back up again and repeat.

You would spend day and night dreaming of you and him, dreaming that he loved you back. You wanted a happily ever after for once. But all you had were thousands of secret drawings of you and him holding hands and being together that would only come true in your dreams.

You relished every single moment with him. Whenever he stood next to you, you would replay that moment over and over in your head for the rest of the week. Whenever he would look at you even for a second, you tried your hardest to not drown in those sea-foam green eyes you loved. Whenever you accidentally touched him, you had to spend the rest of the day trying to regain control of your breath.

And it fucking hurt.

It hurt you to see them hold hands through out the halls, wishing it were your hand in his. It hurt to see them look at each other and see their emotions cloud over their eyes, wishing that he would look at you like that. It hurt to see them talk to each other, wishing that he would share those precious words with you. It hurt to see them kiss, wishing it were your lips pressed against his. It hurt a lot.

You tried to not fall in love with him. You tried your hardest to get over him. There were plenty of other guys out there for you. He wasn't the only one—but it felt like it. You would compare every guy to him, and none of them were like him. Not even close, which was why you never dated anyone else. Riley would ask you why you denied every guy who asked you to the dance. She would ask you why you didn't talk date any guys, or at least talk to them. She would ask you said no to all of the guys she suggested for you for years.

"I just want you to be happy," she would say. "Don't you want get married and have a family?"

But you did. You did want to get married and have a family. But the only guy you ever pictured being married to was only him. You would imagine having two children, a boy and a girl. The girl would have his sea-foam green eyes with his dirty blonde hair and the boy would have her blue ones with brown hair (both of their children wouldn't have blond hair). You were always happy in those imaginations and dreams. But not everyone got a happy ending.

But you knew the real reason why you never dated any guy before in your life, even though you were in your twenties. You were always hanging on to a tiny thread of hope. Hope that he will someday love you back. Hope that he would realize him and Riley weren't meant to be, but him and you were. A thread of hope that didn't even snap when she uttered two words that didn't snap your hope, but snapped your heart.

"He proposed!"

You congratulated her with an ear splitting grin, hugging her and jumping for joy along with her. You should have earned a medal for keeping it together long enough so you could cry out your sad, heartbroken tears alone. They would get their happy ending. You would get nothing.

The thread of hope finally snapped the day of their wedding. You helped her get ready for hours, and you told her she looked like a princess. She gave you a hug, saying that she would repay you for your help on your wedding day. You just smiled.

You watched her slowly walk down the aisle with her father. You listened to them say their beautiful, poetic vows. You watched them seal their marriage with a ring and a kiss. You watched them dance together. You watched both of their faces look happier than you have ever seen them in your life. You watched it all with a happy mask, but with a broken face and heart underneath it.

But then, after their dance as husband and wife, they both came over to you. Riley thanked you for you help and told you she was thankful for you as a best friend. And then he told you he was thankful for you, too. And then he said,

"I love you, Shortstack."

You're not sure how it was possible for a human to go without breathing for so long, but you did. You felt your heart slowly repairing itself and your soul lifting up. Because those words only came out of his mouth in your dreams.

"I love you, too," you said like a whisper. But you put everything into those words. You put your heart, soul, flesh, and mind into it.

"You're the sister I've always wanted but never had," he finished.

You felt your thread of hope snap and plummet down on top of your heart and soul. You felt every single rip and tear of your heart and every single stab in your soul. But you kept it together. You were always good at that. You pulled a smile onto your face and mustered all of your strength to not cry then and there.

When Riley asked you why you left the wedding early, you told her you just weren't feeling well.

You couldn't help but feel jealous. You were jealous that they got their happily ever after and you didn't. You wanted what they had. They had your dream house and kids—a boy and a girl. The girl had sea-foam green eyes and dirty blonde hair and the boy had brown eyes and brown hair. Both of them loved you. You loved them because that was the only part of him that would ever love you back.

Riley told you before that no one dies alone.

But you felt like you were alone. All of your friends were happy. Riley had Lucas and two kids, Farkle had Smackle, and Zay had Yindra and a son. They were all happy, and they all had someone.

But not you. They always asked you why you never dated anyone. You always told them you were just looking for the perfect guy—because you were. You were still looking for someone who was like him. But no one was. He was the only one you always wanted.

Riley was proven wrong.

You did die alone.


A/N: Oh, my sweet little Hart, I'm sorry but I'm a sucker for angst. Why must I do this to myself?

You can, you know, fav and review. If you want. Just sayin…