Dear Kenny

A/N: Sappy, sappy, sappy. Written in honor of the lovely "Kenny Dies" episode.

Update: I changed the pairing for this. Sorry if that bothers you, but I only changed names. I like to think this sort of sentiment fell in line with Stan's general personality type better than it did Kyle's.


Once upon a time, you were happy, free, fun, gorgeous, and perfect. Once upon a time, you were my world. Really, you still are. My world, I mean... The only thing that's changed since then is that your eyes aren't bright anymore. Back then, you were perfect because you were mine, and you were alive. Not just literally, but figuratively, too. You were alive in the strongest sense, Kenny. But, even in death, you are beautiful.

Goddamn this sentimentality. If you were still here, Cartman would be laughing his fat ass off at how pathetic I sound. But that's all right with me - I don't care what he or anyone else thinks. Because, well, I love you. Is that dumb? It's probably dumb... Well, anyway, I do. I don't think I ever told you that, but I hope you know that whenever we kissed - even little, friendly ones on the cheek - that's what I wanted to tell you. Every time, without fail, those words are nearly out of my mouth, then I realize how terrified I am of saying them and never let them come. I'm a coward, Kenny, and while I regret that, it's too late for me to be hung up on it.

We had great times, and I'll be damned if eight years old is too young to fall in love, because all those moments we spent together meant the world to me. Since no one is really going to read this (I just hope you can see me writing it), I guess I can admit this without someone laughing... I dreamt of marrying you once. Yeah, it's stupid, I know. But I did. If you were still alive, would you have wanted that? I wonder that, sometimes. I wonder what it would have been like to get down on one knee like in all those shitty romance movies you know I love and ask. Now that you're gone, I think about it a lot more, which is, again, kinda dumb, considering. But, uh, yeah.

Kenny, will you marry me?

Damn it... Goddamn it. It just isn't fair. I could've said those words to you one day. And I don't know if you would've said yes, but...

I'm sorry for the runny ink, by the way. I ended up getting tears on the paper, 'cause I'm crying like the pussy I am. I can't help it. It wasn't fucking fair. You shouldn't have gone that way, or that early - I agree with Kyle on that. You should've lived. You should have had the best life a person could ever have, because you deserved it.

Kenny, I love you. I love you so much. I love you, I love you, I love you. I can't ever say it now, so I might as well write it down as many times as I can, not that it'll solve anything.

I hope they have NASCAR in heaven. I bet they do, and you get to watch it every day - no, better, you get to compete in it, don't you? I hope you are the happiest you can be, because when you were with me, I was the happiest I could be. I hope God gave you the biggest set of wings he had. I hope you'll always remember me. One day I'll quit hoping and be up there, too, okay? Just you wait! Then I can say "I love you" for all eternity, and we can be together without being ridiculed, and I can hold your hand and never have to let go, ever. Maybe we could even get married and live happily ever after.

Christ, now I sound like Shelly. But, hey, I guess every kid dreams of happily-ever-afters at one point in their life, right?

I really should wrap this up - I've taken up two sheets of paper, and I need this notebook for school and all... Well, if it means anything to you, Mr. Garrison refuses to let any of the kids sit in your chair in honor of you. That was Butters' idea.

We all miss you. Me, especially. I know you've heard enough of this, though.

I get to put this letter in your coffin tomorrow, so I hope you can see it, sappy and tear-stained though it may be. Goodbye, forever, I guess. Or, well, until I get up there, too. And I'll try my best to get there, because my happily ever after isn't complete unless I'm with you.

With love,

Stan Marsh.