Author: Ah, Wendy/Stan lovers! So nice to see! I still hope S/K fans will give this a try cuz there's gonna be a whole lot of interaction with them. THANK YOU, those who were kind enough to leave reviews.

Disclaimer: No.

Chapter 2- Forever:

"You said you'd love me forever,

then you said, "its over",

and left me without the missing link.

I thought I'd forget you,

But I guess I forgot to,

and lately I've been too confused to think."

(Collin Raye- "I can still feel you.")

---

So maybe I was completely crazy, but after Wendy gave me my first kiss, a lot of questions came up. One of them was particularly strange, but I was too embarrassed to say anything about it… and I wished I knew why.

"…Kyle?" I breathed into the silence, not long before MAC was formed and declared war on Canada.

We were lying next to each other, him curled on his side facing me while I stared up at the darkened ceiling of my room, hands behind my head.

"Hmm?" He hummed into my ear, sounding halfway to dreamland already. It had been a rough night; junk food, video games, Terrence and Phillip, dodging Shelley, beating the shit out of each other-- all in good fun. Just another typical Saturday night for us.

Only on this particular night, sleep couldn't find me. I was too… bothered. But I knew Kyle could help me figure it out, and most importantly, I knew he would take me seriously and wouldn't laugh.

"Is my…" I let my voice trail off, feeling stupid.

"Is your what?" Kyle grunted. "is your talking keeping me up? Uh, let me think; yeah, it is."

"Shut up, asshole, and listen." I snapped. "I need to ask you something important."

His eyes were still closed. "Then shut up and ask me." Hesitating, I bit my lip, then took the plunge.

"Is my wiener too small?"

A long, loud silence.

Kyle's eyes nearly popped out of his head and I felt him stiffen beside me. I could hear my heart in my ears, and then he shot upright. "What the hell is that suppose to mean?" He bellowed. "Too small for what?!"

"I don't…. I don't know." Did I? It didn't make any sense to me either! "Too small for… Wendy, I guess."

"Why would you show it to her in the first place?" He shrieked. "My God dude, she's a chick! She might try to do something chickariffic, like give it a makeover or spray perfume on it or something. Jesus Stan, what are you on?"

"I don't know dude." I sat up and faced him, feeling more retarded than I ever did in my life. "I just feel like it has to be big or she wont like me anymore."

"You can piss, can't you?"

Blink. "…yeah."

"Well then it's fine." He hugged my blanket to his chest to keep warmer. "As long as it works, you're fine."

I scratched my head. "I… but does it… look big?"

"I don't know!" The yell echoed in my ear like a bell and made it ring. "I've never looked at it before!"

I pulled my eyes away, feeling gay, and just a little offended, because I've looked at his before.

"Well, maybe it's time." Brilliance struck me. I sat up on my knees, shoving my fingers beneath the elastic of my pajama pants. "Here, look at it."

"Stan, what the fuck is wrong with you?!!!" He had sprung from the bed and was now glaring at me from across the room. With no shame whatsoever, I pulled them down my hips, stepping over the pile of material and toward him.

"C'mon Kyle, I'd do it for you. Just take a look at it."

"No way, dude!" He faced the wall, burying his eyes in his hands. "It's not cool to look at other people's firemen!"

"I'm not other people, I'm Stan."

Silence.

"… Kyle, please." It was kinda weird to be begging Kyle to look at my dingdong, but I had to know if it looked alright. "You're the only one who can help me with this dude, I don't trust anyone else."

There was a sigh, followed by a grumbled, "Goddammit."

I knew I had won him over, so I pulled down the front of my underwear, exposing myself to the chilly night air. I moved closer to him and we both bowed our heads and peered down at it, the pale moonlight streaming around us. Our foreheads touched.

"Looks like a wiener to me." He diagnosed, then stepped back and folded his arms across his chest.

"… Is it…do you th-think it's…?" I swallowed. My throat was dry and my tongue papery. "… nice?"

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. "God Stan… can we please just… not do this?! Please?! I'm getting… I'm getting one of my mom's sick headaches."

He cut across the room and propelled himself back into bed, snuggling deep inside the blanket, and I wondered why he was so angry about this.

I put my pants back on, sliding them up slowly, afraid because he didn't seem too favorably impressed and even more worried that Wendy wouldn't be, for whatever reason she'd see it.

I slid in next to him, feeling bad. "You're not… mad at me, are you?" We were sharing one blanket; the warmth of his body heat engulfed me and made me shiver.

His eye cracked open. "Of course I'm not mad at you."

I studied his face and red hair that was practically glowing in the dark. I felt like…I wasn't good enough, for either him or Wendy.

"Ah, come on Stan." He turned to face me. "Don't look at me like that, you know I love you." I smiled at him. He frowned.

"You have cooties, that's all… God, just don't give them to me." He closed his eyes and cuddled deeper into his pillow. "Freakin' weirdos, man."

---

Kyle wasn't exactly thrilled with my new found feelings. He thought it was stupid and, quite frankly, "sick, dude!". I tried again to explain myself, but he wouldn't hear of it. According to his eight year old logic, I had betrayed my own kind and that wasn't cool. Every time I puked because of Wendy, Kyle nearly puked because of me, although our reasoning's were completely different.

It scared me that I'd lose my position as his best friend, which I had proudly held since preschool. From the first time I'd seen his shamrock green eyes at the age of three, Kyle had been my whole world. But that was threatened now, because Wendy was quickly catching up, and before long she was my whole life. Kyle and I both knew it.

Things were awkward for a while. He wouldn't even look me in the eye. Kenny told me he was weaning himself off my friendship, because Wendy was sure to suck all the life out of me. With a shocked and riveting heart, I told Kenny that she could never replace my best friend, and Kenny assured me it didn't matter anyway, because he'd take really good care of "that delectable little Jew." Wink. Grin.

I decided not to ask him what he meant by that, because I was sure I didn't want to know. Honestly, I didn't give a shit either. I needed to talk to my best friend, nothing else mattered.

"Kyle?" I asked during a particularly silent game of one-on-one basketball.

He stole the ball, ran up the court, and made a perfect shot before facing me, eyebrows perked up in question. I rubbed my arm nervously, gaze burning into the hard ground.

"You know you're my best … f-fuh-friend, don't you?"

Silence followed, except for the haunted sound of the wind blowing a creaky swing in the distance. I held my breath, waiting. He blinked and stared at me forever, studying my eyes. He wanted to believe me; needed to. I needed him to. The sun was hot that day, and I could feel a bead of sweat trickle down my neck.

"…Yeah," He finally answered, ignoring my gaze in favor of his shoes.

But I didn't think he really meant that.

"Kyle I… I m-mean it. Please don't… don't…h-hate me...I'm s-s-so..."Tears pricked my eyes. The little Jew has always had that effect on me. I sniffled.

The basketball fell from his arms, bouncing off to the side and out of sight. He embraced me and I collapsed into his hold. "I know Stan," He spoke firmer this time, then released me and put his hand on my shoulder. The troubled frown he had worn for weeks was replaced with a genuine smile. "Nothing is going to come between us. We'll be best friends our whole lives." Five fingers curled into my skin, giving a squeeze. "forever."

I wanted to hug him, but managed to restrain myself and smiled back through tear-glassed eyes. He pat my shoulder and then darted off for the ball again.

I closed my eyes , thanking God, and breathed Kyle's promise into the sky.

"Forever."

---

After that it was better. Despite Kenny's infinite deaths, and Cartman's bullshit, and my parents stupidity, and the usual crap we went through just because we lived in South Park, I was immensely happy.

Life… everything… was beautiful.

Wendy was beautiful. I was so deeply in love. Madly, insanely in love. Our relationship grew into something indescribable. She was no longer the "girl that I liked", but my actual, honest to God girlfriend. We dated exclusively, excessively, and even told each other "I love you."

And I meant it.

…Fuck, I meant it so much.

But if I said it was perfect, I'd be lying. We fought sometimes; like on Halloween when I dressed up like Raggedy-Andy to her Raggedy-Ann, just for her, and she came to school as Chewbacca instead and everyone laughed at me all day. I was so mad at her, especially after she gave all the candy she won to starving children in Nairobi.

There was also the time she refused to come near me at all because she thought I'd give her my STD's, even though I didn't have any and we weren't doing anything to cause her alarm even if I did. Neither one of us were at fault for that one. Adults are just so fucking stupid sometimes.

The worst part of all was the people who got in the way; Miss Ellen, Gregory, Bebe, Cartman. I wish I were shitting on the last one, but it's fucking true! She kissed Cartman! Not only in front of me, but the entire school-- the entire town. I was miserable for days once the shock wore off. It hurt me so badly. We hurt each other badly in that sense. I can't erase the image of her with tears in her eyes because of that skanky substitute teacher. It still pains me I ever hurt her that much. I didn't even like Miss Ellen. She was just pretty and showed too much skin and my hormones were just starting to bud. I never cared about her, and I never, not for a blink of a second, stopped caring for Wendy. She was the only one who had my heart, and she had all of it. I can only hope it was the same on her end. I hope… I was the only one in her heart.

From 3rd grade into 4th, the transaction between my eighth and ninth birthday was the best year of my life. I was hers forever, she was mine too. And I was happy, and I was complete. Nothing, I thought, could ruin it.

… Then it happened, and I don't know why.

I don't even know why we went for weeks without talking to each other. Neither one of us was mad-- at least, I don't think she was. I did guy things and she did girl things, but that's the only reason I can come up with. Why didn't I miss her all that time? Why didn't she miss me?

Somehow we drifted apart, and the next thing I knew Bebe was in my face, playing messenger for Wendy to let me know that she breaks up.

My world crumbled that day.

It's been five years, and I have never been the same, not on the inside. The only reason I go on and try not to think about it is because of Butters' gay little speech when I was "Raven the Goth" and because being away from Kyle was only doubling the pain. It doesn't mean my soul has been mended.

My heart is still broken. Pathetic; maybe. I don't give a shit. Time may be able to heal, but only the initial pain. I love Wendy, and no amount of time can possibly make that go away. I don't understand how her love did; not unless she's pretending.

Like I do every day.

(To Be Continued...)