Warning: Death
So I read something like this somewhere else, and something in my head kind of twisted it into this. Sorry if it's bad.

---------------------------------------------------------

"I love you," a phrase typically said to one another during a relationship.

For most people, this is a meaningful thing to say, something that can fill your body to the rim with warm emotions. But not for me.

For me, these three worlds bring heartbreak. Not just any heartbreak, but the type that occurs when someone very close to you leaves. And by leaves, I mean dies.

Cause that's exactly what happened to me. And his parting words was that simple saying, "I love you."

Such a beautiful thing to say, and such a dreadful way to end it with.

At the time, I didn't know how to respond. He was nothing more than a close friend of mine. A close friend that happened to be a world famous guitarist with a collection of toy trains and a deathly fear of flying.

My gaze flickered to the nightstand next to me. A picture laid on the ebony furniture. 

Reaching out, I picked the frame up. It was a photograph of us together, the last one that we'd ever take together. The final time us two would be with one another.

I remember my last meeting with him perfectly. But how couldn't I? The memory played through my head almost every minute, like a broken record. One that'd never be fixed.

It seems like yesterday that I'd sit down with him, watching his fingers gracefully gliding over the strings on his guitar. Or how whenever something had me down, he'd attempt to cheer me. It never took much, his smile was enough to make the sun peak through the clouds on my darkest of days.

But he's not here now, nothing could stop the storm of sorrow that raged in my head. Or stop the crushing pain in my chest. The only person who would know how to help, can't. Not anymore, never again.

"I love you too," I whispered, tracing my thumb over his smiling face in the photograph.

Oh, what I'd do, what I'd do for this to be him and not a picture.

With tears freely flowing from my dull eyes, I gently placed the photo back on the nightstand. 

Chocking in a sob, I leaned back on my bed. Staring blankly out the bedroom window. Another day gone, wasting away in the depression that surrounded me.

If only he was here.

-----------------------------------------------------

A/n 

Like I said above, I read some Randy Rhoads one-shot awhile back that kind of was like this, so it gave me the idea. I didn't proof read it or anything, so sorry if it doesn't make much sense.