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I sit down on the edge of my bed and hold the note in my hand. The same note I've carried around with me for almost a week without setting it down. The same note Frankie left for me a week ago. I turn it over in my hands several times and look at the photograph on my night stand. Frank and I were so happy in that picture. He smiled his angelic smile and his eyes glittered with joy. How I wish I could see that beautiful face again.
Crying, I look down to the note in my hands and unfold it. Creases have already formed where I've folded it and unfolded it reapeatedly and a tear slides down my cheek as I look at the handwritten note in my hands. Gerard, the note reads, I'm so sorry. I love you, Gerard, but I can't bear the pain anymore. I've never told you about it because I didn't want you to worry about me. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. It's all become too much though. I've stopped cutting myself, as you wanted me to, but the pain never went away. Even now, my wrists burn with the need to meet the cool blade. But I can't break my promise. I won't cut. Here, his handwriting blurred slightly, as if Frank had cried as he wrote. I'm so sorry, Gerard. feel like I'm going to lose you to somebody else, and I can't take it anymore. I'm afraid of losing you. I can't lose you. And it's gotten to me. I'm sorry, Gerard. I love you. I love you so much. Goodbye, my soulmate. I'll see you in Heaven. He signed the letter and sealed it with a kiss.
I close my eyes, fold the letter, and let the tears fall.
"Why, Frankie? Why?" I sob, pressing the letter to my forehead and pulling the teddy bear he had won me at this past summer's carnival into my arms.
Every time I have closed my eyes for the past week, I've seen the same image in my mind. The scene has replayed over and over again.
I drove over to Frank's apartment complex and climbed the stairs, slipping the key into the lock and turning it. I tried to push the door open, but it was jammed. I heard Frank moving around inside.
"Frankie, let me in," I cried out, afraid of what could have been going on inside. I pushed on the door again, but it didn't budge. Then I heard the bang. "No!" I screamed, kicking in the door. Frank lie on the floor with a gun in his right hand and a bullet hole through his chin and the top of his head. "No," I sobbed and pulled out my phone, calling the police.
When the police arrived, they took my statement and let me look inside Frank's apartment. One officer lead me over to a table where Frank's letter sat. "You should have this," the policeman said. I nodded in silence and took the letter.
Now Frank is gone. I lay down on my bed, placing my picture of Frank on the pillow next to me, and pull open the drawer to the night stand. Inside, a little black box sits alone, still containing its beautiful little treasure.
Reaching over, I grab the box and hold it in front of me, popping it open and staring at the engagement ring inside as more tears fall down my cheeks. I set the ring with the photograph, roll to face it, and cuddle the teddy bear.
"You never would have lost me, Frankie," I sob aloud. "I love you."