I don't understand this world. I never will. Why must there be pain and tears? What is the point of it? Some people think that a God makes it so that you experience these things. It's all fate. That, by experiencing pain, we can appreciate the good.

But, I can't appreciate the good, because of all of the pain.

Sometimes, late at night, I lay awake. I hear a motorcycle or think I hear the sound of a door opening somewhere. These were the signs of her. Sneaking over to my apartment late at night, escaping her sister and breaking into my apartment. I'd anticipate her, clenched under my bed covers. Annie. It was exhilarating, knowing she was steps away from jumping on my bed and "waking me up". I'd act surprised every time, but she never knew that these sounds woke me up first. It was as if my body was waiting, even the gentle click of my front door's lock, that tiny sound, waking me up like an alarm clock.

She'd cuddle up into my bed, and teasingly say, "make me some tamago gohan" or "make me some spaghetti". Her red leather jacket would be cold or warm depending on the temperature outside, or she'd be soaking wet if it were raining or snowing. I'd hug her first, and we'd hug in bed. I'd hug her so tight, so she'd know I'd never want to let her go. She often would fight with her sister, so she'd run away to me. I was always waiting, and she never knew this. Always waiting to show her the love she desperately needed.

She always called me a liar, because I'd hide things from her. I didn't want to be judged. But, she was a liar, too. Always acting fine, so high energy and spunky. She wasn't fine. How could someone who fought so much with her family be fine? I understand that kind of pain. Wanting to smile and say it's okay, because you just want to be treated as normal. No special treatment, just go, go, go. That's why we were both liars.

I think of her these late nights, and I get overwhelmed. She was too young, just thirty-three years old. She seemed happy, but...she was a liar, too, so what do I really know? I'll never know these answers.

Sometimes, I get confused. I wait for the door to open, and hear her familiar chains coming through the doorway. The chain of her wallet, her bracelets, her ear cuff chain. I'm still more confused than anything. None of this seems real.

I cry in the dark, and Tetsu doesn't know. He sleeps peacefully beside me, and I try not to wake him with my movements and sounds. He hasn't woken up for this yet, and that is a good thing. How in the world can I explain? I love him and have always loved him, but I love her, too. I can't talk about her to the person I love. I know he wouldn't get jealous or anxious about her, but even so... I hesitate.

Tonight is one of those nights. My body feels good, so there's nothing to distract me. Sometimes, I'm in so much physical pain that I can't think of anything else. This is a good distraction for when I'm mentally low. But, when I feel good, my thoughts wander. Memories come, and there she is. Wearing a red plaid shirt tied around her waist, loose black corduroy overalls, a light purple loose shirt underneath, her puffy ponytail. She bounces up the sidewalk towards me, holding out movie tickets or a flyer to something that someone handed her on the way there. She grabs my hand, and we rush away, laughing, her energy too high to do anything but laugh.

She took me to such wonderful places. We saw things that I never thought I'd experience, or that I'd have the courage to. She was so brave, no matter the circumstance, making me brave, too.

Mostly, I think of us on stage. Her pointing to her right ear a few times in quick succession, her signal for me to show love when we couldn't speak. A quick glance backward, and there she was, making that gesture with a knowing smile. Making fun of me, because I can hardly hear out of my right ear. It started as a joke, but it became love. A way for her to say, "I love you" in front of everyone.

Her joking about my illness made it bearable. I can't remember any specific ones, and that pains me. Whenever we went to the hospital, it would become a joke. She'd make me laugh the whole time. One-liner after one-liner, sometimes taking me a while to understand due to my language barrier in the beginning. She tried so hard, though. She made it a lot less scary, less serious. She learned to do that, and I was always grateful.

I want her to take my hand on the sidewalk and take me to another world. Show me somewhere new and cool. Go on an adventure. We could hop onto her motorcycle, and I'd hold her around her waist so tight, her ponytail hitting me in the face. The freedom I felt on that thing. That we could go absolutely anywhere, just she and I. And we did.

We often had serious conversations about the future. Would we get married? Would we have a family? Would we settle down and get real jobs? The answer was always no, no, no. It wasn't what I wanted. She wanted my pink diamond ring that I often wore on stage. It was her size. She knew it would mean that we were engaged. But, I never let her have it. It didn't feel right, and I was waiting for that moment for when it felt right.

It never came. That moment, and any others, were taken from us. I remember that day second by second. I was in my apartment, waiting. I'd asked her to come over. No special reason. Just like any other day.

Why was it that day? Or is it specific? I don't think it's that specific. It wasn't fate. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nobody's fault. It was an accident.

So, why does knowing it was an accident make me cry so much? Is it because it was senseless? That there was no reason for it at all? That life can be over so quickly, like it didn't matter in the first place? Like her life didn't matter...

Whenever I look up at the stars, I secretly see her in Ursa Minor. This is because of Polaris, the north star. It is the brightest and most identifiable in the sky, and I take it as her always guiding me. Ursa Minor and Ursa Major remind me of her and her sister. It has nothing to do with the mythology, but, I like the idea of them being together. They're never far apart that way. Though her sister is still living, it comforts me to think of them up there. I cope this way, but it is also always a reminder.

I'm so sorry to her sister for what I've done. If I hadn't invited Annie over that day, this never would have happened. If I'd done something different, anything at all, it never would have happened. If I'd called her earlier, and she came over even one minute sooner or later. If I went over there instead and we went on her motorcycle together. Anything at all. I'll always blame myself, and that's my apology.

Sometimes, I want Tetsu to wake up and comfort me. I want him to hold me and tell me I'll be okay. But, I can't wake him. He shouldn't have to comfort me in this. I'm crying over someone else. That isn't for him to be responsible for. It's not fair to him. Hearing about someone else I've loved, who would want that? He doesn't need to hear about how much I loved someone else. It's wrong to say these things.

I never intended to tell him. He was just so persistent, unwilling to believe that I never dated anyone before. I was lying, trying to be treated as normal again. The truth is, Annie was my first girlfriend. I'd dated around before, even had one night stands, but she was the first one I loved.

I just don't know what to think anymore. Late nights like this. I wish the morning would come, because then Tetsu will wake up and I can act like nothing is the matter until nothing really is the matter. Seeing his smile reminds me that life is worth living. I can make him happy, and we can carry on as normal, whatever our normal is. Sometimes, I just need his touch, a reminder that a warm touch still exists.

I want him to hug me now. I need a hug late at night. She made me so used to them. I'll hesitate again to wake him up, but I never will. My guilt is too overwhelming every time. Guilt for way too many things.

I'll try to go to sleep, and see her smiling face. Hear her sneakers on the pavement, her startlingly loud voice. See her dancing to a random street performer, her arms open to invite me to dance, too. We'll dance crazily together, having the time of our lives. We'll go to the old cafe and eat fried foods and I'll listen to her complain about her cute pudge belly. We'll go to a 3D movie theater, and I'll secretly watch her as she watches the movie with an open mouth the whole time. I'll tug at the end of her ponytail as we're out walking at night, and when she turns around I'll rush to the other side so she doesn't see me right away, making her laugh. She'll know it's me, because I always do that. I'll watch her tug at her ponytail herself, her nervous gesture for when I know she really likes me.

I'll look at Polaris, and miss her.