No one understands what Santana and I have, and i don't think anyone ever could. We are best friends but more than that we had become the most important people in each others lives. Most people didn't know this but Santana found it very difficult making friends in elementary and i was her only companion. She had chosen me. We hardly spoke to the other kids always trapped within our own little world. As we got older naturally we branched out into different things but we were always close. She made me join cheerios, i didn't care much for cheering but i always did as Santana said. I figured that she knew what was best and i didn't raise my voice against it. We were popular, all the boys swooned over us, we ruled the school yet she still seemed unhappy.

No one seems to love Santana the way that i do, no one seems to adore her every move or become overtaken with an immense amount of joy when she speaks. They don't know her like i know her, and they most certainly don't see the things i see or at least the things i have concluded.

I think she's broken and i think she is spiraling into an unfathomable self destructive path. The hole in her chest grows deeper with each day. The anger she used to have contained within her has begun to fade. Now all that rests within her is a gaping hole with an infinite amount of devastation and sadness and i think that this time she will finally break.

She is more fragile than people believe she is and maybe if they paid attention they would have known the pieces of her soul had begun to crack. It's too much for one girl to take and even though no one knows the pressures and expectations she has to deal with they should have known she was beginning to fall apart.

I've been observing her although most of my time seems to be consumed with Artie it doesn't mean i stopped caring.

I'm in the hallway when Lauren throws her against the locker and my legs feel like pins as my heart sinks. I can't seem to get through the crowd and I feel overwhelmed with regret as I stand there watching just as everyone is watching.

It is then that I notice it begin, she wants to feel something, even if it's pain. Every time Lauren throws her into another locker she finds the strength to lift herself up and continue to fight even though she knows she can't win. Her determination is rattling and I feel like she will never give up despite her small frame she was capable of a beating. The fear in her eyes as she continued to crawl her way towards the girl after each blow, I didn't know how much more I could watch.

Feeling a jolting pain rush throughout your body was far better than feeling nothing, I believe that is what Santana had decided that day.

I wonder if Puck even realized how much Santana was trying. She said she wanted to change and he blew her off. A part of me was jealous that she was willing to change for him, she didn't love him but I knew she needed him the way I needed Artie. She was desperate for someone to be there for her to need her and it fills me with anger knowing she went to Puck and not me. Didn't she know that I needed her just as much as she needed me?

She refused to admit her feelings and I was okay with that, I was patient and willing to wait but sometimes waiting takes too long and I needed someone who would actually want to hold my hand or let me kiss them in the halls. Artie was a poor substitute but he was kind and I settled.

Santana seemed unaffected by mine and Artie's relationship as if she didn't even care but deep inside her barricaded heart I knew it pounded with jealousy.

I was swept off my feet that valentines day despite the fact that I could never truly love Artie the way I loved Santana he was very sweet and I couldn't help but fall for him a little. We joined the other glee kids at Breadstix for music and dinner, Santana sat alone. I was surprised she didn't just pick any guy at school and drag him along with her, I later decided that she was no longer in denial about her loneliness.

I told Artie id meet him outside so we could leave together but first I waited by the front door for Santana. She was the last to leave her shoulders hung low caving into her chest as if her tough exterior had successfully imploded. She glanced at me a certain sadness in her eyes that tugged on my heart strings. "Here San, Happy Valentines Day!" I said with a cheerful expression as I handed her a handmade card. She took it from my hands and stared at it for a moment as if she was surprised by the act of kindness. She probably forgot what kindness was that day after all that happened to her. She didn't say anything but just held the card in her hand tightly as if it was the only thing giving her life. I flashed another endearing smile before I went outside. I took a glance back at her before opening the door as she had begun to flip open the card. I had written to her, despite my inability to form coherent thoughts I think she liked it, I could see her eyes scanning every word as if each one would disappear forever.

I had only written one thing in the card, "I love you." I think that was all that needed to be said. I had also drawn a merry go round and did my best to illustrate the carnival we went to when we were ten hoping it would spark that memory and I think it did because I saw her smile, like really smile, the smile that I had been so desperate for all these years, but it was immediately followed by a crushing sorrow that began in her brows and soon overtook all her features.

She wiped away a stray tear that she wouldn't let dare hit the floor to leave as evidence that she had cried. She stuffed the card in her pocket and went around the table to pick up her purse. I left with the realization that Santana was breaking and that night another layer was destroyed leaving her vulnerable.

I didn't know how much more she could take, but I knew she would continue to fight even when she would become completely helpless and defeated she would continue to fight because that was what Santana did. All the demons that she had were smothering her and somehow she was surviving but I was disappointed mostly in myself because I hadn't been a good friend recently. I've been too preoccupied with Artie to pay enough attention to her and maybe if I had she would let me help her.

I knew now that it was impossible for Santana to ask for help, she would rather die alone fighting than give in to someone who could heal her wounds.