How did we get here?

Through everything I've forgotten over the years, I can still remember the day I met you. We started preschool together. Two children, still untouched by the realities of an adult world. Back when crayons were the best things in the world, and dragons existed. When we'd argue about whether or not Superman could beat Batman in a fight. When the biggest challenge we faced was choosing which juice tasted better. I would give everything to be able to go back to those days. I would give anything just to be anywhere but here. Why is the world so cruel?

At first, we were just two little rivals, enemies in a friendly way. We were always trying to outdo each other: get the better grades, be better at whatever sport we liked, be better at everything else. We went together like a yin and yang. I was the only one who could intercept your football pass, and you were the only one who could hit my curve ball. But at that young age we didn't know we could be anything more than friends. Back then, I was red and you were blue; purple was unheard of. That's the way it stayed all through elementary school.

Middle school was when the colors first started running together. I watched greens and yellows and oranges intermingle, forming all colors of the rainbow as they came together and separated. The one color I never saw was purple. I was red, and you were blue. That's just the way it was.

But colors can appear in the same picture and still be separate. Homework was never able to withstand our teamwork. Together, we tamed the forces of math and science, English and history. Our synergy was powerful to overcome almost anything.

Sometimes, though, even the most obvious paths become twisted with curves and blocked by obstacles. When high school started, it was a new beginning. And it was the first time our colors started to run together into a wonderful violet.

I remember freshmen year. The ups and downs. The times when I hit rock bottom, and thought I would never be able to pull myself up. You'd reach out, always in the nick of time, that same old look of just knowing. When I talked to you, I never had to explain myself; you just knew. When I came to you after my boyfriend dumped me the day of the Homecoming dance, you let me cry. You held me until the tears were gone. And then you asked me if I'd ever been to a skating rink before. I said no, and you pestered me for a half hour until I agreed to go. And you know what? It was the best Homecoming I ever had. That's when I realized that we weren't just a good team; we were meant to be a couple.

Last year, sophomore year, we proved to everybody that sometimes high school love isn't always just a passing phase. People talked about us. Well, about you, anyways. You were one of those people who everyone saw but didn't know. You sat in the background, even though you're rightful place was by me. People thought it was weird that I would be with someone like you. Some of the guys went out of their way to tell me how good-looking I was. But as you know, it wasn't ever that polite. If I even dressed in a slightly pretty way, they wouldn't leave me alone.

Especially the football players. God, how I hated them. I could always hear them snickering behind my back, and as soon as I would turn around, they'd start yelling sexist comments. They did this to every girl. Then they made the mistake of harassing your girl.

You have no idea how much I appreciated what you did. Those stupid jocks, to this day, will still run away from you.

The football captain had a reputation for being a player in more ways than one. One day, he came up to me. He started talking to me in that demeaning way players do, and the whole time he stood too close. He only touched me once, when he grabbed my wrist. But that was enough.

Suddenly, someone pulled the oaf out of my space. I wish I could've seen the look on his face when he saw it wasn't some other big oaf challenging him to a fight; it was you. You, the kid from the Computer Club. Then he made the mistake of accepting the challenge. Five minutes later, you were walking away without anything more than a black eye. He, however, went to the hospital for a broken nose and arm. None of the guys ever bothered me again.

You're more than a boyfriend. You're my best friend, my soul mate, and all those other corny terms people use to describe an angel in human form. So how am I sitting here, watching as the life drains out of your eyes?

I know you were proud of your license. And I know you cared about me too much to pull stupid stunts like the guy in the other car was doing. I mean, we didn't even see him driving down the road, his dark car with the lights off blending in perfectly with the night, swerving as the alcohol in his system took over his coordination.

And yet you still found a way to save me. By the time you saw him, heading for us head on, you knew we were going to get hit. So you turned the car to the right, putting yourself between me and the oncoming car.

Don't worry about me. I'm fine, you see? Just a scratch and a few bruises. And you, you're going to be fine too. The ambulance is on the way. I bet if you listen hard, you'll even hear the sirens.

No, no, please don't go to sleep...