I have nothing to put up here, but there needs to be something in bold or else my writing looks weird to me.

Dave's POV

I remember meeting him like it was yesterday. I was twelve years old. I had just moved, so I didn't know anyone, which was fine, because I was perfectly chill and cool on my own. I didn't need to hang out with anyone or any of that shit. I was better off on my own anyways, or so I thought.

Well, anyways, the day my older Bro and I arrived at our new apartment, we had a little bit of an argument, and Bro got pretty fucking pissed at me, so I hightailed it the fuck outta there, running as fast as I could. We both know damn well that he could have easily caught me if he wanted to, but I'm pretty sure his original intentions were to make me leave. So, I was running and running, but I had to stop because my lungs were coming to the point where they were starting to forget that it's their job to bring air into my body so I can do totally awesome stuff like breathe. I had to stop or else I'm pretty sure my lungs would've been like "nope, fuck you" and exploded. I sat with my back to a tree and took the time to breathe.

A voice called from above me. "What the fuck are you doing?"

I looked up and saw an awfully scrawny troll. He was wearing an oversized sweater with baggy, grey jeans. At first glance, I assumed he was probably about eight years old. The I got to wondering what even an eight year old was doing dropping the F bomb... or hiding in a tree by himself.

"What are you doing?" I asked right back.

"None of your gogdamned business!" he yelled. With that he retreated back to the branches above me. I thought that was one weird ass little kid, but I didn't do much to figure out who he was.

The next day, however, I learned that the eight year old I met at the park was actually twelve, and that his name was Karkat Vantas. That boy was told to take me from class to class throughout the day, because our schedules were nearly identical.

He made it clear that he thought I was an "insufferable prick" from the very start. I wasn't really sure what I had done wrong, but he always seemed really paranoid around me, like he was expecting me to throw a fist in his face. I couldn't imagine why: after actually talking to him, he seemed like a pretty cool guy. Slowly, we became pretty close friends. We were those two guys where no one would mention one without mentioning the other. It just wasn't heard of.

I also learned that the reason that he started off so paranoid of me was because he was being pretty severely bullied. Like, beat-the-shit-out-of-you-for-existing kind of bullying. The first time I saw someone hurting him, I completely fucking lost it. I knocked the shit out of that guy. He went home crying, and I got suspended for a week. I didn't give a shit; I'd have readily done it again- and I did. People learned to respect him.

Over the years, our friendship only gre stronger. God knows we acted like assholes around each other, but at the end of the day we were best bros, and nothing could change that. We were entirely inseparable; we did everything together. Sure, over the years we gainer our own respective friends and circles of friends, but we would still choose each other over our other friends.

In middle school, the beginnings of a crush started to emerge. By the time high school rolled around, I was pretty sure I was in love, like the real deal, get down on one knee and fucking propose already. But I didn't say a single damn thing. I was scared to death that if I said anything that he would hate me. Best bros aren't supposed to want to kiss each other senseless and hold hands in the park; best bros are supposed to fist bump and play video games.

Luckily, he ended up asking me out, so I wasn't doomed to loneliness for my entire life. We had the sort of relationship where nothing changed between us except that there was more kissing and stuff like that. But we didn't become that couple where everyone wonders why friendship was so easy but a relationship was doomed to ruin everything. We were still best bros, closer than ever.

And now? Now we're all grown up. We share an apartment a lot like the one I lived in with Bro. We've been together for four years, and I can't imagine finding anyone on the planet I'll ever care for more than Karkat. I am unconditionally and unironically in love with him.

That's why I'm going to propose to him tonight. We just finished a moderately fancy dinner out, and now we're heading towards the park where we first met. He doesn't know it yet, but I'm going to propose to him underneath the very tree we met in, the same tree we carved our initials into and claimed as our own. We're driving there right now in my bright red beetle.

I pull up to a red light, and demand a "redlight special" from Karkat. He rolls his eyes, but leans over and kisses me anyways. The light turns green to soon, and I pull out into the intersection.

An ear shattering crash comes from Karkat's side of the car. Chaos ensues: we flip sideways, glass shatters from all sides, horns are honking, people are screaming, blood is running down my face into my eye. More important than any of that is the pained shriek coming from my right.

A surging pain erupts from my skull, but somehow I manage to undo my seatbelt as well as Karkat's. I drag him out of the car, not having enough strength within me to carry him so that he doesn't drag through the shattered glass. I collapse to the ground, still clinging to my lover for dear life, with a sudden, extreme wave of vertigo.

A small whimper comes from the mangled body in my arms. I pet his hair and shoosh him, not knowing what else to do. He looks so broken and afraid. I just hold him closer and tighter with an odd hope that that will somehow hold him together and fix him. He looks up at me with fear filled eyes, and I nearly break down right then and there.

"Fuck," I say in a raspy voice that sounds alien to my own ears. "Karkat, don't die. Don't die, okay?"

He doesn't reply in any way other than a sharp breath.

"Look, Karkat, if you stay alive, we'll get married." I hastily pull out the ring I had handpicked for him. "Would you like that?"

Nothing.

"Karkat, I'm a little bit dizzy right now, so I'm not so sure I can stand on one knee and shit like they do in the movies, but I can the ring on your finger. All you have to say is 'I do'. You also have to stay awake."

Nothing.

"Karkat, speak to me."

Nothing.

"Karkat, please, please don't fucking leave me. You can't fucking leave me. You can't!"

Somebody starts to try to pull me away from his limp bopdy, but I thrash out at the person with a strength I didn't know I had in me and cling to my dead lover tighter than before.

"Please, please, please, I love you. Fuck I love you so much. Please stay alive. Stay alive PLEASE."

Nothing.

All of my dreams gone with one man. Dreams built up over years and years, knocked to nothing in mere moments. This shouldn't be possible, yet somehow it is. Everything I had hoped for: love, marriage, and maybe even some adopted kids- all gone beyond the point of return.

I sob quietly into my dream's shoulder, and wish all of this horror away. Of course, it doesn't work. It never does, does it? We're all left with whatever terrible things the world throws at us, usually with no way of changing it.

How could I not sadstuck with a song line like this?

Anywho, I have a special person who deserves glomps and digital cookies: Black Nostalgia.