Victim (Glee)

39. Final

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.