Ah. Here it is. Enjoy. -snickers sadistically-... oh, right. and REVIEW!

He looked exactly like me. I realized that at once.

He looked just as I probably would, if I wasn't a werewolf. Or ex-werewolf.

That was the only comforting thing. I knew she loved me. Why else would he look so much like me?

Claire loved me. I had to trust that love would bring us together. We were one, after all. One enough that I knew her words before they left her lips.

"Quil?"

"Claire."

"This is Josh. He also works at UNC with me, he's a friend… Quil, I need to talk to you."

"No, you don't. I know, Claire." I tried not to sound dismissive. I tried, and I failed.

"Josh, I'll meet you in a minute, okay?" She clearly was not taking now for an answer.

"'Kay." I do my best not to hate this nonchalant boy.

"Quil, you don't understand. I love you, really, truly, I do. But I've been living with you for seventeen years. I don't want to be dragged away from my life. I don't want to be pulled onto a path I don't want to take. I know you never meant to hurt me…"

But I did. Again, again I had failed. I wanted to beg for her forgiveness.

"And you didn't. Really, it's me here, Quil. I just need some space. I need to find out who I am, before I find out when I can love you."

"Whoever you are, I'll be who you need, Claire."

"Quil. Please. I feel awful, really, I do. And I want you to be happy, and I still want to stay here, if you'll have me."

"Of course I will." What an outrageous question. She could be a murderer and she'd have a place in my house- though technically, I was a murderer too.

"Josh knows. Not what you are, but that you love me, and what happened when I was little. And he knows that… this is temporary. That I love you, too."

Like Jake and Bella. He knew he was second-best, and he was okay with it. This poor kid. For a minute I sympathized with his pain, and then I remembered mine.

"Quil, don't hate me. I love you. I always will. And I will come back someday. I'll still see you every day. And when I'm ready… I'll be ready for anything."

"You'll marry me?"

"Yes." My heart leaped for a minute, then, as she turned, smashed.

I understood. I believed it when she said she loved me. I understood that she needed to figure out whether or not she was ready. Really, truly, I did.

But that didn't stop my stomach from falling to my feet, the blood racing through my head. I slumped to the floor and began, not to sob or cry, but to moan.

I would still see her. I would still be her friend. Once I had said I'd be content with that… but she hadn't loved me then. Why? Why?

I supposed it was poetic justice. I had failed. And in my failure, I had hurt her, and now because of it she was leaving, and thus I too was hurt. Not that her suffering wasn't a punishment too.

And I knew that there was no way to remit my great sin. I knew she had been through more than I had ever experienced, but I was having a hard time convincing my now non-existent digestive system of that.

The agony speared through me as I thought softly her name. Claire.

Claire. Claire. Claire. Why was I torturing myself?

Claire. I had thought she was mine.

Claire, Claire, Claire.

Where had I gone wrong?

Claire, Claire, Claire. You love me, right?

Claire, I'm sorry.

I can't say it to your face but it's the truest thing in the world. I'm sorry sorry, Claire. So sorry

Claire, Claire, Claire. Come back to me soon, Claire. Come back to me soon.

REVIEW! and, and try not to hate Claire TOO much, okays? she has her reasons.