Dear Kyle,

I'm stupid.

I'm really, really stupid. I'm also sorry. But mostly stupid.

I'm sorry because you got sick, and I'm stupid because I let you die. Everyone keeps telling me- especially Stan- that I couldn't have done anything anyway. But that's a lie. I'm sure I could have saved you if I'd tried. But I'm stupid and selfish and a coward. And now you're dead.

I'm sorry.

I'm almost glad I can't talk to you anymore, 'cuz then, you'd hear everything in this letter, and I don't want that. You're dead, and an angel like you has gone up to heaven now. And I don't want you to remember me like this. I'm a mess.

But like I said- you're in heaven. And God knows I ain't going there. Not now. Not ever. I'm not that stupid that I don't know that.

Maybe I can tell Stan to tell you when its his time. Maybe he will anyway. Or maybe you're looking down, reading this right now as I write it. I hope not. If you are, please stop reading.

But do you know, I remember the first time I realized that I liked you? I remember when I realized I was in love with too, too, but I realized that I liked you like I liked the girls I brought home on Friday nights. You might remember that night, it was sort of prominent in my life. Maybe not. I wasn't very important back then. You and Stan and everyone else forgot about me a lot.

It was the night my sister died. When my parent's got in a fight, and my mom threw a bottle at her head by mistake? You might remember that I ran crying to your house since it was closest and didn't say anything for three weeks, but you probably don't know the rest of the story because I know I didn't tell you. Mom knew that Karen was dead, and tried to strangle me when she knew I'd seen. We were kids then- only fourteen, so I know no one told you, and it killed me inside so I didn't tell anyone.

But when I went to your house, and I grabbed you when you opened the door and just cried, and cried, and cried and cried I felt safe. No one was going to kill me here, and even if they did, it was alright. I realized right then and there how much more I liked you than girls.

And after that, I stopped crying. Do you remember, the first thing I said after that was 'I will never cry again.' I didn't. I didn't cry over anything. I didn't have anything to cry over. But it seems I've broken that vow. I cry all the time now. Last night, I was trying to focus on schoolwork, when it all suddenly hit me. It hadn't been real until then. Sure, I'd cried every day since you'd died, but last night was the worst. The very worst. It suddenly hit me that no matter what I did, or what happened, I would never ever see you again. Because I'm going to Hell. I'm a terrible person, and even though you knew that- you loved me.

So I left. I went to the graveyard and slept as close to you as I could- six feet away, lying in the snow next to a tombstone. And I sound like a fucking emo kid, but cried and cried and cried until there wasn't any tears left. I was thirsty and my stomach hurt and my eyes burned like fire, and I finally rolled over and threw up. And I kept on trying to get everything out of my stomach even after it was gone. I bit into my wrist 'cuz it hurt so bad, and when I finally stopped, I was bleeding. But I didn't feel anything. I don't know if I was numb because of the snow, or because my heart hurt so badly I didn't feel anything else, but I couldn't feel it. And that made me feel worse, and I finally fell asleep. I sort of hoped I wouldn't wake up, I guess, but against all odds, I did. Too bad.

I was in a hospital though; hypothermia. When Stan saw I wasn't in my room anymore (I've been living with him since my home got taken and I can't live at your house anymore) he went looking for me. And found me.

But I hate hospitals. You died in one, and you took most of me with you. So I left. It was easier than you'd think. The doctors are all idiots.

And now here I am, sitting on your damn grave again because I don't have a home. You were my home, so this is the closest I have.

Stan keeps telling me to forget you. That that's the only way to move on, and I have to move on. You wouldn't want me sleeping in the snow on your grave and crying my eyes out every night. You'd want me to smile and be happy and find someone else to share happiness with.

And he's probably right. I'll bet that is what you want. Because you're the fucking greatest guy in the world, and that's why you're in heaven and I'm not.

But you know what?
I don't give a shit,

You're not here to tell me to smile. You're not here to tell me to move on. You're not here to see me crying.

You're not here anymore.

So I can and will be as fucking selfish as I want. I'm going to cry my eyeballs out until they bleed or I die from dehydration.

Cuz either way I'm never going to see you again.

-I still love you, Kenny