I loved her more than I've ever loved anyone in the whole world. She was the sun, I was just a dot on earth. She was the ocean and I was the smallest fish in there. She was Everything and I was Nothing. Did I deserve her? Yes. I suffered with her. Quinn Fabray. The love of my life. Does it still matter, all that happened? No. Why? Because it was years ago. We're in different places. She's in heaven and I'm in hell. I'm in a place, writing down all my feelings and the memories I think are real - forming them into pages of words. Am I still hurt? Am I still upset? Of course I am. It doesn't go one day where I don't think of her. 1095 days have passed and I still haven't seen her. Or, last time I saw her she was hanging on the ceiling of my room. I was told that wasn't real multiple times though, but I don't know. I am never sure. What I keep thinking of is how all the times I was with Quinn, it felt real. She made reality clear to me even though I added some things she didn't really see. Like the park. Our spot. It wasn't really our spot, we only met there once. But everytime Quinn took me out with her I would like to imagine she wanted me to meet her there. And the tree we risted our names in, it wasn't a tree. We wrote it on a wall behind school. Many of the things you read are probably not real. My illusions took over. Fiona, the weird girl from the party Quinn took me to - she didn't really exist. She was something from my imagination.

During three years, my parents and friends have been talking to me everyday. And by friends I mean Mercedes and Tina. The only two people who started talking to me again after hearing what happened. Everytime my parents came over, I asked them where Quinn was. Every single time. And every single time they told me she couldn't make it. It was the same thing for three years, 1095 days. One day when it had been 1000 days, my parents told me it was true about Quinn's suicide. She overdosed on cocaine on purpose they told me. I remember how I cried that night, I cried until I felt empty inside, I cried until I didn't know how to do it anymore. And for 95 days, I haven't cried. I forgot how to. I somehow still see Quinn hanging on the ceiling every night before I fall asleep. I even hear her, she's begging me to help her but I just sit there staring at her turning blue and fading away. I write her letters everyday though, saying I'm sorry for letting her die. Sometimes she sends me some back. I think I have two.

Nevertheless, writing all of it made it clear to me what reality was. Sometimes.
People here are really nice, I've even made a couple of friends. On my 21st birthday they threw a little party for me. In my mind, Quinn was there with me and she kissed me and gave me a ring. Just like the one I gave her on her 19th birthday. Nobody else saw her though so I didn't want to talk to her and make everyone look after someone they wouldn't be able to see. I knew that now, that I was sick. I knew it and I learned to accept it. I forced myself to do so after they stopped forcing me.

As I'm writing these last pages of the book, I remember the first page. I described how I hated New York, how I wished I never had to move here. Through the chapters you learned that I hated Quinn at first, and then how I slowly and then all at once fell hopelessly in love with her. As I'm writing this, I keep thinking about it and I want to cry, but it's impossible for me to do so. It really is. There are no tears left for me to shed. Not even for my love. The still most important thing in my life, not even for her. As I'm writing this I feel like I need to talk to her.

"Quinn, hello. It's me. I miss you very much. I need you to know that I'm so sorry for not saving your life, I think about it everyday.. And I see it. I hope you don't hate me. I know it was mean, I know I should've called for help!.. Quinn? Please answer this when you see it. I'm writing you this letter because I really want you to talk to me. I know you're alive somewhere and I know it because you've replied to my letters before so.. Please. I love you. I miss you"

I put the letter inside a envelope and put it inside the drawer, where Quinn would find it. With her begging and my scream in my mind, it was hard to focus. Nurses came by with food every now and then. I was forced to leave the room at least once everyday. Sometimes I would meet Quinn outside at our spot, and she would be waiting for me there. Everyone would listen to us talking and the nurse sometimes forced me back in. I wouldn't mind, I knew I would see her the next day. I always asked her why she stopped answering my letters though, and she always told me it's because the delivery man never gave them to me. I always get angry and say it's been two years since she answered and he should do his job better.

Then I woke up from the everlasting dream about me and Quinn. We would never meet again. Right? That's what I was told. Everytime I thought I saw her, it wasn't really her. Right? Yeah. Only a mind clear as glass would understand anything about me and everything that's happening to me, everything that happened. Only a mind with the ability to understand the mind of a psycho would understand how to wrestle the devils in my head. And I've learned. I taught myself.

I know you're reading this and thinking "what the hell?" I'm thinking the same as I'm writing it down. You're probably wondering why Quinn took her life and why I didn't explain earlier about how sick I really was. I didn't think it would matter, that's why. I have no idea why she did, is it real? It is. This time, it is. All the other things I only think they are. Or sometimes I'm pretty sure about what reality is, sometimes I'm not. Some days I would wake up and think I made Quinn up. Then I met her and I knew she was real because something made up by myself could never make me feel that much. Never. Never had anyone touched my heart the way she did. I was tangled and so was she. She was supportive as well.
That's how life works though, isn't it? You fall in love, you go crazy, they put you in a place you don't belong in and you die.. It's like that for everyone - we just all take it in different ways. This place you don't belong in can be whatever you want it to be.

"Santana, come back here" my mother said.

"I need some time alone, please mom"

"Hurry up then, we need to visit grandma soon"

I was let out for a whole day. I wanted to visit my grandmother in the cemetery, it had been too long since I did. I was also going to visit Quinn for the first time. They were burried in the same graveyard. I looked around my room one last time before heading out. I grabbed the CD and the notebook filled with poems and walked out of the room, closed the door and went to the car.
The drive wasn't very long but it felt long. Even though the weather was pretty amazing, I saw rain. I wanted to see rain - it fitted my mood better. We parked the car and walked into the empty graveyard. No more than two people besides us were there. As we walked there, I felt chills spread all over my body. I felt a lump grow in my chest, a swell of emotions attacking the core of my stomach.

"Where's grandma?" I asked.

"Here.." my father stopped.

I looked at the gravestone and closed my eyes - a gurney, a hospital bed, a pale sick old lady. My grandmother. I took a white rose out of my father's bouquet, gave it a kiss and put it down. I looked at it for a while and then my father did the same. My mother was still shedding tears. I didn't want to look at her.

"Can you show me.., her" I asked them, eager to see Quinn's stone.

My mother looked at my father and gave him a nod. He took me by the hand and lead me to her stone. Her spot.

"I'll leave you, I'll be with your mother" he said and left.

I looked at it and somehow it felt unreal. "Quinn Fabray, daughter, friend & now angel. We love you. 1994-2013". I didn't know what to do. The lump in my throat grew bigger but even though it gathered like a big ball of emotions, I couldn't cry. I tried but it didn't work. I sat down on my knees right in front of the gravestone and placed the CD for her. I opened the notebook before putting it down.

"Santana, this is for you. Some months ago I didn't really feel this way about you. I wasn't in love. I never had been before you, it's hard to believe but I expect you to trust me in this. Well, if you're reading you've either finished reading everything or you skipped through all the pages because you're a curious person. And that's okay. God, I feel so cheesy for writing this but I love you. I love you. I love you. Never will I ever let you go, you mean everything to me and for as long as you want me, I'll be here. I know I can be difficult, I hope you see pass that when you read this. Before this note here ends I want you to read this one last poem I actually thought of while you were sleeping when we were at your place.
All stars shine, but not as bright as you do.
All songs have a story, all of them are about you and I.
Every single person on the planet yearns for the moment they meet their soulmate, I already found mine.
For as long as you'll have me, I'm yours.
Even when I'm not with you, you can find me if you look hard enough.
To Santana, my love.
Never forget how much you mean to me.
P.S, if you show this to someone...!" I read the last page.

I closed the notebook with a smile on my face - I was smiling because I knew what I was feeling was real. I knew that the poem was real. I knew that Quinn wrote that at some point. I laid it beside the CD with songs she made me after we had a fight once. You may think "why would you give her something she wanted you to keep?" to answer your question, because I've added some things I want her to know. Things that are too private, too intimate for any page of this book. Things not a single soul in this planet could feel and understand. Words and thoughts picked out of my mind - insane. Right? Right.

"Quinn, I'm so sorry" I stood up. "I'm so sorry for leaving you alone in a world I know you hated"

I fought with the voices in my head. "It's all your fault". The screams. I couldn't really help but feeling that it was my fault that she did it. That she took her life. She tried to save me and I left my hero alone to die.
I looked back and my father and mother were waving at me - it was time to go.

"I'll visit you again, whenever I get the chance. I'll bring you something everytime. I'll even make you a notebook with poems and rants. I promise" I turned my back and started slowly walking away. I stopped. "I love you so much" I looked at the stone again. Not for too long, I just wanted one last look before leaving it behind until the next time I got one whole day out.
And that was it.