I never thought my life would end up like this.

We had known each other since we were so young. Time stretched around us and we grew together, changed. Life had been good for awhile, when we breathed the same air, the same moments - I thought that'd never end. That was it for me. She was it for me. Our happily ever after. And then, when I wouldn't take my pills anymore - couldn't take my pills anymore, I ruined everything, and we shattered apart. I thought then that I had lost her for good. It wasn't soon after that I realized it was something I had to do, for her.

I kept her in my heart, of course. Even though she did not know, I went to her concerts and listened and saw, tried to hold back the bittersweet tears, the conflicting emotions. Everyone stared in awe over her and her voice. She stood up there like a star, the light shining on her like a sun illuminating a gentle flower, her hair lit up like fire. She looked so far away. So untouchable. I couldn't believe she had once been mine, that little tomboy who slouched on the couch with me and ate my sad attempts at dinner. Her and her sweet voice of an angel.

I remembered before everything between us turned bad, when we were sitting together one day, singing that strange harmony. I watched her delicate face as she closed her eyes in perfect peace, giving in to the music we made together. Maybe we didn't hit the notes perfectly that time, but they intertwined beautifully like magic, blossoming together as one, the comforting familiarity of the piano at my fingertips, the world completely right.

And what had happened? It was just bad luck, she had said to me, the words ringing clearly in my ears. No matter how many years had passed, I still heard her saying it. It could have happened to anyone. It could have happened to any of us, but it happened to you.

It happened to me.

I wanted to be normal like everyone else. I didn't want to have manic depressive disorder. I wanted to live my life that I had imagined, that I had worked so hard for. Why did Rami get to live his perfect life? Why did Andre? But I supposed it was never meant to be. When the mania hit, I'd make people mad, hurt people, and I wouldn't even notice, wouldn't even care, until it was too late. But the crashing was even worse. The depression took me over, smothering the life out of me, taking away my hope, my very being. I lost myself. There wasn't a warning, there wasn't any compromise. It did what it wanted. I didn't even know who myself was. I had come to terms with the thought that I had probably lost my music, my bright promising career, but I never considered I'd lose her, too.

And suddenly, she was leaving. I had made so many mistakes and broken promises. She wanted to know me - all of me. But it was hard to share with her a part of me that I didn't even understand myself. She had stuck with me through so much bullshit. How could I ask her to stay when she had already sacrificed so much for me and it seemed all I did was throw her into despair? It was a crime to ask her toward me. She could be happy. She could be brilliant. But only without me.

And she was. She had flourished so much she almost didn't look like the same Jennah I had known since we were kids. If she sat with me again, would we be able to sing together, play together, laugh together?

I had to watch her from a distance, always from that wide open distance, wishing I was normal. Wishing I could be more like Rami, like Harry, like Andre, like anyone else but me. Wishing, as she gracefully walked across the stage and out of sight, hidden from my sight by thick red curtains, that I could be someone worthy of her, someone without this cursed mental illness that kept us apart. I could swoop behind the curtains and surprise her, take her into my arms and hold her close, whisper words of promise into her ear that I could actually keep. Tell her I'd be alright from then on, that we'd be alright. But the curtains drew to a close. The lights dimmed. I knew I could never do that. No matter how much I meant it, my mind always had a plan of its own and it would ruin everything.

I had no intention of speaking to her, but she was the one who spoke to me.

I was sitting outside of a coffee shop, enjoying the evening air brush through my hair on a pleasant wind and tuning out the city around me. I had a ticket to go back home in the morning so I could practice for my own concert. Practice couldn't come soon enough and I found myself tapping my fingers on the table, practicing with or without the actual instrument, when I heard it - her voice. The voice I dreamt about, the voice I woke up to in the morning to open my eyes and find out it was just a trick. Just a faded memory. Like the warmth of her next to me in our bed. The way she slept like an innocent child. The way she was so bossy, so cute as she ordered me around, a smile not too far from her lips.

It had been a trick of my mind, surely. A cruel heart-wrenching trick. With a shaky sigh, I hunched over my cup of coffee, staring down into the flat color of it, hating every bit of my rotten mind.

I heard it again, though, soft and confident this time, surprise still tinging the edges. "Flynn, it is you." Relief seemed to flood her voice, though I do not know why.

I looked up in shock, my mouth probably hanging open like an idiot. I wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come.

She was more beautiful than I even remembered. Her auburn hair longer then when we had lived together, curly. Her eyes bright with happiness. She looked so different from before, but when she smiled widely, with as much innocence and naivete as she had when she was just a child, she looked exactly the same.

Suddenly, shyness overcame her and she lowered her eyes to the cup in my hand and then down to the program that came from her show. I hastily bumped it out of the way with my elbow, trying to be casual about it, knocking it out of sight. Oh, God, she'd know I've been following her, coming to each of her concerts like some psychotic nutter, unable to let her go.

She'd be right, of course, but I didn't want her know... She was so strong, so happy without me, and I wanted to show her that I could be too. She didn't have to hold me up anymore. She didn't have to worry about me.

Uncertainty shot across her face as I stared like a deer caught in the headlights, the seconds ticking by faster than usual, climbing into minutes. Her smile faltered.

Like fog had suddenly lifted, the hustle and bustle of the world around us suddenly came back into focus. I could hear again. Breathe again. I managed a hesitant smile. Don't go, don't go.

"Jennah," I said softly, managing to meet her gaze. Her name on my lips was like a prayer, a blessing. I hoped it didn't show.

Her smile brightened. "What are you doing here?" She laughed, the sound of it like heaven to my ears. "You're in Paris! I thought you'd still be home."

I stumbled on my words, tried to get rid of the silly tremor in my hands. I couldn't believe she was standing right there, inches from me. It had been so long... "Y-yeah," I remembered to speak just in time to make it not too awkward. "Yeah, I had time and I thought I'd come to your concert..."

Fuck. I hadn't meant to say that. Hadn't meant to say that at all.

Her eyes widened in pleasant surprise, her mouth forming a perfect little "o". "You did?" She breathed.

"Uh...yeah. I mean, I wasn't busy. I had nothing else to do. I just...yeah." I was an idiot. Nothing else to do? Who would say that? She wouldn't have ever said that about one of my concerts.

But she smiled sweetly, looking down at the chair opposite of me. "Is anyone sitting here?"

"Mm, um, no, let me -" I moved to get up to pull it out for her, but I hit the table with an awkward clang and my coffee sloshed over my hand.

She laughed as my face burned in shame, pulling the seat out herself and grabbing a napkin from the table, holding it out to me. There she was. Sitting across from me. I didn't know what to do. "Relax, Flynnie. It's only me. I'm happy you came."

I sat back in my seat, trying to loosen up, trying to tell myself that she was just a friend, just a friend, only a friend. She had been a friend for how many years of my life? I could do it again. I let out a shaky breath and busied myself with trying to clean up the mess, ignoring the prickling sensation climbing my neck and burning my ears. I knew she was watching me, waiting for me to say something. What were her expectations? What did she even think about me anymore?

"You sounded great..." I said softly, still unable to meet her eyes. "I'm really happy for you."

Some of the warmth in the atmosphere seemed to fade away, and I looked up, trying to figure out why.

Her smile had faded. "Thank you," she said, picking at the hem of her shirt. "How have you been doing?" Then she sped up like she was trying to cover up a mistake, blinking fast. I shifted uncomfortably. "I-I mean...with your tour and everything. I heard about you on the news. I couldn't believe it. Sold out in a matter of minutes. The world's favorite musical genius. Harry always used to say that, remember? I always thought it, too."

I bit my lip, feeling uncomfortable with the attention, even if it was from her. "It's...unbelievable."

I never thought my life would end up like this. I didn't have to sacrifice my career in the long run, but I would've, if it meant I could've kept her. But it didn't matter. Music couldn't get hurt when I tossed a phone at it, or painted the whole damn room black, or insulted our friends, or blabbed about our sex life to Harry's parents, or tried to jump out the window, or take forty pills with every intent on killing myself with her sleeping right next to me unaware... What she must've felt when she found me like that... Sometimes I still wish those forty pills had been enough.

I never thought my life would end up like this.

I didn't want to be depressed or manic or any of it. I just wanted to be me. Sometimes I felt I didn't know me, and without Jennah around, sometimes I felt like it didn't matter.

I stared hollowly down at my hands, swallowing hard, remembering every shitty thing I ever did to her. How did I think this was right? We were only sitting and talking, if you could even say that, but I might as well be strangling her slowly to death. I almost left, right then and there, afraid of what my presence might do to her when she was so bright and vibrant again, but she spoke up, and I was powerless against her sweet voice.

"How long are you staying? If you have time, you should come with me to one of my rehearsals and meet Françoise. She's really sweet. I've told her so much about you and I-I think she'd like to meet you. I mean...if you wanted."

"Yes!" I said automatically, like an overeager idiot, but then my mind caught up with me and I shriveled away. "I mean...no. I'd like to, I really would, I'm sure she's great. It's just...I've got to practice." Genius was a lie. Practice was all I had.

I thought her face would fall in disappointment, she'd turn her face and hate me. Part of me wanted that. Please, for your own good, stay away from me. But she laughed instead, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, her cheeks pink against her pale skin and her eyes crinkling in joy. "Oh, Flynn, you never change." She breathed out in earnest. "I've missed you."

My pulse sped up. I wanted to shy away from what she said. I wanted to tell her that no, that's wrong. You can't miss me, I'll just make up miserable, but I heard myself saying, a touch of desperation in my voice that horrified me, "I've missed you, too."

"You left after the concert," she said, and I knew which one she was talking about- the moment I realized how wrong I was for her. The moment I managed to let her go. I had cried all night, barely consolable, knowing it was the end. Rami had spent a good portion of the night staying up with me even though he had work the next morning, trying his best to make me feel better. It had felt like the end for me, the real one, and I had felt that abyss open up beneath my feet so many times before.

I smiled dimly, remembering as she sang my song that day. "You were beautiful," I said without meaning to. The air hung between us like static. My eyes flew wide when I realized what I had said.

She blinked. "Flynn..." she said suddenly, her hand going out to mine. I jerked back. She bit her lip, but kept her hand out, closing it into an uncertain fist. "I had wanted to talk to you then, but I wasn't sure... I tried calling you after that, several times, but you never answered...and then the number stopped working..."

I had changed my number, afraid I'd slip up if she called. I wanted her life to be right. I wanted it so badly.

"It's been strange without you. I mean, these concerts, they're brilliant. I feel so blessed for all these opportunities, but...but it's not right. My life...it's missing you," she murmured softly.

"Jennah-" I started to say, but she cut me off, holding her hand up.

"N-no, let me finish. I've thought...I've thought about it a lot and I always come back to the same answer. I'd trade it, Flynnie. I'd trade all of it in a second if I could go back to living with you. Remember what we used to say?" She smiled through budding tears, her laughter sad. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I could just travel around with you. I'd be your groupie." She chuckled again and sniffed, wiping a fingers across her face. My thoughts were stuck. I couldn't find any words, and Jennah, assuming I was trying to spare her feelings, took it the wrong way. "Sorry... I'm just being silly. You probably have another girlfriend already."

"No," I said. "No, Jennah. ...No." How could I tell her that it's only been her? Always. There was no one else. I was going to live alone my whole life until I died, and that, I was certain of.

But suddenly, my hand was reaching forward, and I grabbed hers in my own. I stared at it, almost stunned. But it felt so right, like I was whole again after so long.

"I've been going to every one of your concerts," I heard myself saying, my voice breathy and clumsy. "I've skipped one of my own, actually," I laughed, feeling faint. What was I doing? I didn't care anymore. She needed to know. Her eyes had me transfixed; I was telling her everything. "Just because...just because I needed to see yours... I wanted to see you every time, so badly, but I couldn't. I thought you'd be happier without me. ...But I've missed you so much."

"Come with me," she said again, excited. "To meet Françoise, I mean. It doesn't have to be a date. I just want to be with you."

"Yes, of course." Was it bad that I felt disappointed it wasn't a date?

I had been taking lithium like my brother had prescribed, and though things were far from perfect, it seemed to be helping as well as I could hope, all things considered. My fingers still trembled from time to time which affected my playing, and my moods were not like they used to be, but I was better, as much as that could count for. I hadn't gone manic in a long time, and when I had, no one suffered from ruined houses, or beer curry, or having to punch your best friend in the face. I made people angry, but what was new? I was still working on it.

I was better, and I loved her still. It had been years, and I loved her more than ever. I didn't want to ruin her life, I wanted her to be as happy as she could be. And if she really did miss me...well...wasn't it up to her to decide?

I stared at her, wondering at the possibilities. I wondered if I should bite the thoughts back, but they came anyway. "Tomorrow night, after your concert, are you busy?"

She shook her head, watching me with wide eyes, hope flitting through them.

"Well, there's - I actually...I actually don't know that many places around here, but um...there's a pub down the way, I mean...if you want to go - on a date -" I pressed my lips tightly together, registering how that sounded. A pub! "Oh, fuck," I tossed my head into my hands. Shit! I said that out loud, didn't I? Oh, God. I had messed it all up.

She laughed, tossing her head back, her eyes crinkling again. "How romantic!" She rocked back, leaning forward, her eyes twinkling happily. "I'd love to."

I grinned back, relief stabbing me through almost painfully. I took my fingers away from my face.

Practice could wait. Jennah was there, right in my grasp. Hesitantly, I reached for her outstretched hand, and, with a nervous laugh, I held onto her.

Life after that changed. This time, it was for the better.

A month later, we moved back in together. Our schedules conflicted at times, but it didn't matter. We were so blissfully happy to see each other when we did that we knew there was no other way. When I was gone, my heart was full with the thought that I had somewhere to return to, someone that was waiting for me with as much love in their hearts as I had in mine.

Jennah was happy and I was happy.

A year later, I proposed to her, like we had both always envisioned. She was crying as she said yes. I didn't want to admit it, but I was crying, too. I had composed a song for her, and this time the title wasn't Letting Go, but instead, Returning Home. We stayed up all night as she sang with that beautiful voice of hers and I played the piano. I sang with her, my voice awful in comparison, but I was so damn happy I belted it out as loud as I could.

We got married. Harry was my best man. He and Rami couldn't stop smiling like idiots the whole time, clapping me roughly on the back, crowing in joy. I joined them. Sophie and Mum cried and laughed in happiness, which got Jennah crying too. I told myself I wouldn't because, God, it'd be so embarrassing in front of all our friends, but when I saw her, I couldn't help it. I had never thought I'd get to see her like that, dressed in white, the most beautiful girl - no, woman - in the whole world, with a smile just for me. Jennah looked stunned when she realized I was crying, but then she tossed her arms over my shoulder and laughed, murmuring softly in my ear, "Flynnie, my Flynnie..." I held her back as tightly as I could.

When the attention became too much for me, we ran out like that time during my surprise party so long ago. Some things never change. I pulled her behind the church and I kissed her hard on the mouth. This time, I didn't get my watch stuck in her hair or press her into a rock. The sun was shining down on us through the cracks of the shaded cool trees and we were both blissfully happy. She was beautiful.

I never thought my life would end up like this. I thought I'd always be watching from the outside in, too afraid to reach out to her lest I break her. There are times when things get bad for me, but she's always there, waiting. Even if it takes weeks, or months, or whatever, she's there.

Of course, our life isn't perfect, but that's not what it's about. Like that harmony we sung together back at university - that wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but our lives intertwine like we were always meant to be together. Our harmony is beautiful.

I had always wanted a life like Rami had, with his perfect career, perfect wife, perfect house, perfect children. I never thought I could reach something like that or be happy. It had always seemed like a distant star in that night sky that swallowed everything whole. But I did. And for once since being diagnosed as a manic depressive, I was happy to be Flynn Laukonen.

No, things aren't perfect and neither am I. But I love her, and she loves me, and we stand side by side, living our dreams together.

Life could not be better.