All the King's Horses...

Disclaimer – I don't own the characters within this story. No infringement is intended so please do not sue unless you really covet a laptop and an insane dog.

Rating – T

Summary – She was merely correcting an error – a glitch in the plan. Fairytales are supposed to end with a 'Happily Ever After', after all.

Author's Notes - okay, this is my first HSM fic that I've uploaded. To be honest, I have so many half finished on my computer and I have no idea why I've rolled with this one as my first, but it was an idea that kinda stuck with me and I don't seem to be able to get rid of it. It's a bit different from any fic I have written for any other fandom - I have done stories in a similar style but not quite so...unstructured and free flowing. Anyone who has ever been in an overly emotional state, or venting via writing will be aware of sometimes you go off on tangents and that was what I was trying to portray. This is pretty heavy going but it is rated a little higher because of it so I hope that you enjoy it and let me know what you think.

And one more warning - this fic deals with darker themes including character death so, if it's not your thing then you have been warned. It's a tragedy/romance fic - you kinda get the idea that something bad has gone on. I hope it doesn't put you off too much.

Hey, Wildcat.

Actually, maybe 'hello stranger' would be a more appropriate greeting – it has been a while after all.

You know, I had this all planned in my head but now that I have started I really have no idea what I'm doing. You would think a letter would be easy but I have no idea what to do now that I've started. I mean, do I just come out and say what I have to say, or do I dance around a little without saying anything? You know how I usually start with the conclusion and build my assignments backwards? I keep thinking I should do that, but that...that sorta defeats the purpose of this whole exercise I guess. See, if I were smart I would start with some weak greeting and then fill you in on the mundane things that have happened since we last spoke, and then I'd move onto some nonsense about how good things are, and how the sun is shining and the birds are singing, and then I'd dance around and pretend that I wasn't writing this for the reason that I'm writing it, and then that would be it – over.

It actually sounds so easy when I plan it like that – maybe I should do that? 'Hi Troy, how are you? I'm good, thanks for asking – can't complain. It's hot, the sun is always shining, the weather is always dry, and the damn birds are always singing. Haven't spoken to anyone regularly apart from Taylor and Kelsi, the guys still hate me although they are trying not to show it, um...I still can't look at my mom, I still hate it here...other than that, life is...life is...great. Just...just great.'

No...that doesn't sound right to me either, so...so I guess I'll just...I'll just write and if it makes sense, then great – and if not then...then, I don't know. I guess it won't matter anyway.

So, how to start? What about a story? I think you'll like this one – you may even recognise it.

Once upon a time there was this girl who was stuck reading her book before she was forced to go to a party on New Year's Eve. She walked into the crowded ballroom before this powerful being cast a light on her and pulled her into the centre of the room where she froze like a statue until she heard a voice from beside her telling her she didn't have to be afraid. She turned and saw the boy and as she stared into his magical blue eyes she knew that he would look after her and when he reached for her hand, tingles shot up her arm to her heart and in that second she felt complete for the first time in her life and when the boy smiled at her she was sure that all the good fairies and fairy godmother's (or Mountain-side karaoke hosts) in all the land knew that this boy was the boy she had been waiting on.

You know what, maybe starting at the beginning isn't the best idea – you know the beginning after all, so it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to tell you things you already know so...where to begin, huh?

How about a random thought to break the ice? I loved your truck. It was a hunk of junk that couldn't run for more than thirty minutes without breaking down or spouting off steam but by some miracle that rusty, worn out pile of crap drove over a thousand miles overnight and took you from Albuquerque to Stanford and got you there in one piece. After we arrived in California to stay I learned to drive to save you driving the heap of crap too often because it always terrified me when you drove it, yet I always had a soft spot for it because it had brought you to me when I was too scared to go to you. I don't know how it made that journey – but I guess it was destined to happen. I guess fate is a strange thing – it can affect the most simple and everyday facets of our lives. From making sure a car works properly for once in its existence, to making sure two very different people end up in the same place at the same time for the same purpose.

Fate is a funny thing. Ridiculous even when you really think about it.

I met you when I was sixteen and you were seventeen – we were pulled onto stage at a New Year's party and we sang together. You kept me from passing out which right away should have been a sign that there was something special about you, and we grabbed a hot chocolate and headed to the balcony and swapped numbers before I disappeared and you left the resort. I showed up at your school, in your class and thus began something...ridiculous. I know most people don't believe in fate and destiny, but we knew that's what it was and over the course of a year and a half, I think we convinced everyone else that it was that as well. We survived scheming best friends, scheming Sharpay, your ambition, my cowardice at refusing to stay in Albuquerque and we were stronger after every obstacle. It was fate.

It is fate.

Fate...fate is a weird word – it means the pre-determination of events, destiny, foreshadowed. Fate means that really we had no say in our own lives – that we were mere characters in someone else's script. It means that in that November that you were born in Albuquerque New Mexico your story was already written, and then one day, three months later when I was born in Michigan, it was already decided how this was going to go.

It meant that we started on this road that was destined to end here regardless of the decisions and choices we made. There could be no deviation, no detours, and no blips. Everything was decided.

Fate sucks sometimes.

See, you think that you are in control – that you have things in hand and then it's all changed and what are you left with? What do you do when fate, destiny lets you down? Maybe it is some cosmic joke – to torture you, by taunting you with what you could have before it goes to hell so the cosmic being that was controlling you could see how much pain a person could feel whilst still breathing. Maybe in order to be happy you have to trade in something – maybe longevity? Maybe happiness has an expiry date – maybe if you are too happy for too long the cosmos need to balance it out somehow. Maybe a person is only allowed to be happy for a certain amount of time in their life before a spanner is thrown in the works.

Maybe happily ever after doesn't really exist.

Maybe none of this makes sense anymore.

Random thought number two – did you know that I fell in love with you when you climbed my balcony and sang to me to apologise? It had broken my heart when I heard you say I meant nothing to you and I didn't understand why because we had only really known each other for a few days, but that night when you came and put me back together again, I realised why it had hurt so bad and suddenly, with you beside me I felt like I could do anything. I knew in that second that I was in love with you. It's ridiculous, I know but there you go. I guess our story is a little ridiculous if you weren't part of it. To the pair of us, everything made sense but I think to other people it just seemed so...unlikely.

I think that's why it was such a shock to everyone that brief two day break in the summer aside; we went into senior year insanely happy together. So much went right that year – I mean it was really amazing for the most part – you were outstanding on the court, you were perfect off it and I had never been happier. You...you were everything to me and I knew how hard it was for you to deal with the pressure, but you always tried to stay positive which is more than I did. I buried my head in the sand and pretended that it wasn't happening. I know I told you this before but I was going to stay for you. It seems important for me to say this again after what happened, but I swear I was going to stay for you.

That's why I didn't tell me mom about the early acceptance and I only told Taylor because I thought she would understand. It was an honour to be accepted on it, but...I didn't want it. Then my mom heard Taylor and I argue about it and she found out, and then Sharpay found out and told everyone and everyone told me to go. You told me to go.

That killed me. I never told you that when you left that night that I nearly called you up to plead for you to come back to hold me. I never told you that the night before we left, I snuck out the house and hid in your tree house and wished for you to wake up and ask me to stay. I never mentioned how I went to Ms Darbus, Kelsi, Ryan, Chad, Zeke and Jason and begged them to give me a reason to stay – whether it was for the musical, or to help keep Jason's grades up. I wanted to stay for you so badly but you didn't want me to.

Those ten days at Stanford were unbearable. I hated it and even though we talked every night, I knew you hated it as much as I did even though we both tried to hide it. I knew that things were getting on top of you, and you knew that I hated being there away from the first friends I had ever had. We were useless but we were useless together because nothing worked for either of us without the other. My decision not to come back had been for selfish reasons, but you didn't give up on me. You knew I loved you and even though I didn't let you say it back, I knew you loved me. And somehow, magically your truck lasted a thousand miles to show up because every fairytale prince needs a trusty steed to get him to his girl, right?

You dropped out a tree and that was that, our lives were then permanently entwined. You wouldn't let me go, and I would never be able to leave you again no matter what. A thousand miles became 32.7 and we were together the way we were supposed to be. It was written.

It was pre-determined.

It was supposed to be forever.

Three years in California suited us – we found an apartment together after our first year and you gave me a promise ring for Christmas in our second and then you changed that for an engagement ring for Valentine's Day on our third. We were happy, and in love and everything was going the way it was supposed to. We made changes to our coursework – you dropped theatre for physiology since high maintenance drama students were no fun when you didn't have your friends there, and I switched from pre-law to move into education so I could put my freaky math and science skills to use. We were grownups, making our own decisions, our own mistakes, taking risks with no one but the other for support and reassurance and it wasn't always easy. Different pressures, different timetables, different demands on our time took a while to adjust to, but somehow it made us stronger because we knew every second we had together was important, every free moment we could spend just laughing and joking without worrying about basketball practice or impending deadlines was precious and sacred. That's why we decided to move in together so early – it just made sense.

Everyone expected us to break up within six months of moving out here, did you know that? I heard them talk about it. Some people even had money on it, but I don't think they really understood to be honest. Puppy love, infatuation, lust, stupidity...no one ever quite got us.

There wasn't a day during our time in California that I wasn't happy. From the second you dropped out that tree, it had been perfect and it continued being our own style of perfect every day until...

Okay, enough of that just now. Random thought number three - did you know that the first time we slept together I didn't actually sleep afterwards? I was beyond exhausted, but I couldn't stop watching you. I was scared that I would fall asleep and it would all be a dream. We were eighteen and were in California on Prom night and we took part in the biggest cliché in the book and I couldn't take my eyes off you the whole time. When you started to stir I pretended to sleep, because I didn't want you to know, but...that's what I did. That night was one of the best of my life – you told me you loved me, you came to get me, you danced with me, and you made love to me and everything was...it was like a dream. Every kiss, every touch, every caress, every whisper...everything was perfect. You were perfect for me in every way and I didn't want to miss any of it. I did that a lot – when we were in bed I would often just watch you while you slept, tracing your features, watching your eyelashes flutter, the way you would breathe, the occasional murmur of my name...it was fascinating for me. You caught me at it more than once, and loved to tease me, but I know you did it too. I don't know how many mornings I woke up to find a strand of my hair wound round your finger, or saw your blue eyes looking down at me. Some nights I'm amazed we fell asleep at all as we lay there, just gazing at each other, holding each other, knowing that no matter what else happened, that nothing could touch us.

We were really one of those sickening couples now that I think about it, weren't we?

You know, in a lot of ways I never really understood why you stayed with me. I knew you loved me, but I didn't really get how I could hold your attention when there were so many beautiful women out there but I don't think we had a choice in the matter. I know from my perspective that you are the only man I could ever see myself with and I think that it might have been the same for you.

You told me one night after a bad away trip that coming home to me was all you could think about because I made things better for you. That just holding me made you forget everything and you knew that it was the same for me. We could laugh, and talk, and make fun of each other and just goof around and that was all we needed after a bad day. When we were apart we were incomplete, it was only when we were together that everything worked. Dependency is considered a dirty word with some people, addiction, infatuation, need – all of them are considered a weakness but we never felt that. Being together made us strong, made us invincible, and made us whole. It's not weakness to be happy. It's strength to recognise that being isolated, being on your own isn't worth anything. People spend their lives looking for that fulfilment, so why should we have to apologise because we found it earlier, and easier than other people?

That's why fate put us together – we were made for each other. We were meant to find each other and stay together forever. That didn't scare me, and it didn't scare you – it was just the way it was meant to be.

You will love this but I was watching a documentary the other night about Kurt Cobain – yes, I know I hate Nirvana but it was on E! and you know I'm a sucker for stuff like that (hey, at least my secret vice isn't cheesy day time talk shows where the mother is really the sister of the guys aunt who is having an affair with her boyfriend's sister's girlfriend. Sound familiar, Mr Bolton?) Anyway, I digress but I was watching this show and on it they had a guy on it who said that Kurt Cobain had said he would rather burn out than fade away and being the nerd that I am I googled the song the line was from. It came from a Neil Young song and to be honest, lyrically it was kind of weak but the concept of it being better to go out in a blaze of glory than to just...end is interesting in general, but especially if you start to look at it in regards to us.

Maybe that's what happened to us. Maybe we were meant to end strong – blaze out like an inferno because it wouldn't be tenable for two people to stay as happy and in love and blissful as we were for much longer. Maybe it would make the universe all whack for that to happen.

You see, I've been trying to think that if I could somehow magically apply that theory to us, then it would make a bit more sense. If I could justify what happened to us, it would make it easier but I'm finding it hard because we weren't a slow burner yet I don't feel like we even got close to being as bright as we were supposed to be. We were passionate, and in love, and we were strong – I just didn't see any signs that it was supposed to just...stop. Burn out. Flame out.

It wasn't supposed to end like that.

Fate...fate put us on this earth to find each other, to complete each other so none of this makes sense to me because I can't accept that this is how it's supposed to be. I can't accept that just over four years was our allotted time. No fate can be so cruel, so how does any of this fit into the plan anymore? How can our story be fated if this is our sick ending?

You want another confession?

Part of me wants to hate you. Part of me wants to fall to the earth and scream and punch until my throat hurts and my hands are broken.

Part of me wishes I had never met you because then this would have never happened to us. To you.

Mostly though – mostly I wish you had never followed me to fucking California. I wish I had stayed in Albuquerque. I wish we had jumped on a plane and went snorkelling in Hawaii or backpacking in Australia or jumped in your truck and broke down in every town as we travelled across America.

I wish more than anything I have ever wished for in the world, that you hadn't loved me enough to follow me. I wish you had been selfish and not cared about me. I wish everyday...I wish every day that it had been me. I wish that more than anything, Troy because you were going to be so...so great...

But it was fate. It was predetermined. We had no control.

I hate fate. I hate California. I hate myself. I hate that fucking asshole who fell asleep at the wheel of his jeep because he had enough alcohol in his system to cause paralysis and who crashed into us. I hate cars, and barriers, and hospitals and blood...and I hate that I convinced you to let me drive in my stupid little car instead of you driving in your truck that would have survived the impact.

I hate you for leaving me here alone and incomplete and I hate that I'm so weak that I'm still crying about it.

I hate...I hate that I can hate now.

The guys...they don't say it, but they know it's my fault. They know it and Chad can barely look at me. I don't blame him, I can barely look at myself but I have tried, Troy. I tried to make it up to them, to apologise for letting you come here. For doing something wrong that night. For not reacting quickly enough.

I've tried so hard to move on and to make things better. I've worked so hard to deal with it. I go to counselling to please my mom and your parents, and I go to school every day, and I go out at the weekend sometimes, and I talk to Taylor and Kelsi and I laugh, and I smile and the sun keeps shining and the damn birds keep singing and every night I go to bed and I realise again that you're not there and it kills me a little more inside.

I tried to put your photos away, I don't wear my necklace even though I need to, I have what's left of my engagement ring in my wallet instead of on my finger where it should be, I hid your T-shirts in a drawer and I have tried to do it for you because I know you would be disappointed in me but...I...I need you so much. You have no idea how badly I need to be complete just now, Wildcat...please understand. Please.

God, I'm such a mess. You won't even be able to read this with all the smudges but...I need...I need to get it down, somewhere because I can't say this out loud because no one understands. No one wants to understand.

Taylor set me on a blind-date this week and wouldn't let me say no. The guy seemed nice, a little dull but I think you would have liked him, he reminded me of a less flamboyant Ryan. I left after the first drink and came home and I wanted to throw something at someone. Why isn't it okay to not be ready? Why isn't it okay to never be ready? Why don't they understand?

I need to hear your voice so much. I need you to wrap your arms around me and tell me that it'll be okay. I need you to tell me that you love me. That you forgive me.

I need you so badly, Troy.

I feel like I should be wrapping this up so here's a summary. Once upon a time on the 21st November 1989 Troy Bolton was born in New Mexico then, on the 7th February 1990 Gabriella Montez was born in Michigan – from that moment their futures were entwined and linked. On December 31st 2006 Troy and Gabriella met in Colorado and sang together before being separated only for Gabriella to show up in Troy's home room class on the 9th January 2007 and the two began a romance that would span the remainder of High school and college. The two would move in together in August 2009 and Troy would propose to Gabriella on Valentine's Day 2011 which she would accept thinking of nothing but their happily ever after.

Their ridiculous and fated relationship would last from birth until 17th May 2011 when a drunk driver ploughed into their car killing Troy Bolton instantly and landing Gabriella Montez in intensive care for three weeks, leaving her alone in California having been brought back to life on three separate occasions because she believed that Troy was alive and waiting for her in the next room because her mom lied and said her soul mate, her fiancé, the only reason she was holding on was okay and...and waiting on her. In the next room. You were supposed to be in there waiting on me. She promised me you were there...

I wish...I wish she hadn't lied to me, Troy. I fought so hard to stay alive for you and...and I have wished, and prayed that I had died every second since I found out.

I wasn't supposed to live through the crash – that's not how it was supposed to go. They weren't supposed to bring me back three times if I wasn't coming back to you and no one understands!

I don't know why I'm writing this to you – maybe because you're the only one who could understand. No one has ever got us – but I know if the situation was reversed you would be doing this as well.

I love my friends – they have tried so hard and I know it hasn't been easy, but they don't get it. Taylor still thinks that it's something I will just get over because no one marries their first love anyway. You weren't my first love Troy – you are my only love.

I love my mom, even if I have barely spoken to her in a year. I called her though and I think she understands that I never ever stopped loving her and I understand why she did what she did, even if I can't forgive it, I do understand because I would have done the same.

I know that you will be angry with me but I've tried so hard, Troy. I swear I have tried – every day I've tried to live my life. Every day I've ignored the pain and tried to be happy. Everyday I've tried to forget you.

You are unforgettable though, Wildcat. Everything reminds me of you, of us. Of what should have been.

I don't really know what to write anymore...I feel like this hasn't said enough.

Final random thought - when we were nineteen we went and saw the Lakers play and there was this famous couple in the floor seats who couldn't stop touching and laughing and giggling with each other and this old guy behind us spent the whole game bitching and moaning about them and you looked at me and rolled your eyes 'cause we had been doing the same thing as the hot-shots on the floor seats, only with less attention on us and the old guy caught it and pulled you up for it, saying that basketball was a serious game and not a place for horny kids to flirt the night away. I was mortified but you just grinned at him and told him that basketball was a game, and that as far as he was concerned the pair of us, and the couple on the floor would have far better memories of the night than any bitter cynic who spent more time frowning disapprovingly and complaining than watching and enjoying the game. When you turned to me straight after you kissed my hair and then my hand before leaning close to me and whispering about someone needing a hug before you turned back to the game, cheering as a basket went in and winking at me as the old guy kept huffing disapprovingly every time you touched me, which you must admit, you seemed to do more often when you knew that he was annoyed with us.

I never told you that the reason I always wanted to go to basketball games with you after that was because I loved the way we watched the game together. Taylor had told me I was an idiot for getting the first tickets because you would just ignore me the whole game, but I didn't care at the time because I knew they would make you happy. But when we got there, it was like a date. I loved that we could cheer, and shout, and scream and everything yet we could still laugh, and hug, and kiss and joke. Plus it amused me that you seemed determined to outdo the hot shot actor who was feeling up his starlet girlfriend on the floor by trying to get away with as much PDA as possible within a PG13 rating so as not to give the guy behind us an aneurism.

You made the most ridiculous things romantic, and memorable.

We were coming back from a basketball game that day in May – I had surprised you with playoff tickets when you guys got to the last eight and although I had to beg, borrow and beg some more to get them upgraded to later tickets, I managed to do it and that's where we had been. We had an amazing night and we had somehow ended up in front of the same guy who continued to heckle the same young celebrity couple who were sat on the same floor seats – the only difference is that this time, I couldn't tell you what was happening on the floor. This time I was utterly locked on you and although I cheered, and clapped, and smiled when everyone else did – I don't think I saw more than one basket going in. It was like that night we first slept together – I couldn't take my eyes off you and although I should have been watching the game, I just couldn't stop watching you.

I don't know how everything flipped 180 that night, but it did and somehow, three hours later it was all over. I drove so you could have a beer with your dinner after we had danced, and kissed and you grinned when we ended up on kiss cam and joked that we were hotter than any celebrity in the crowd. I still don't understand what happened, Troy. I wish...I wish I could understand what happened.

Twenty minutes into our journey home we travelled through a set of traffic lights when they were green, unaware that at the same time some stupid, selfish asshole was hurtling towards us at 30mph over the speed limit through the red light at his end of the street. I heard the car coming and tried to swerve to avoid him but he flipped us and the front of the car crashed into the barrier and the back was smashed by him.

Which brings us back to the fairytale. Gabriella Montez was resuscitated on the operating table on 17th May 2011 after her heart had stopped for six minutes due to the severe chest injuries she had received when the glass of the windscreen and the metal on the console stabbed through her, pinning her to the car seat where she nearly bled to death waiting for help to come. She regained consciousness for the first time on 19th May 2011 and was informed by her mother and best friend that her fiancé Troy Bolton was alive and recuperating in another intensive care unit and that he would only be allowed to visit her once they were sure that she was strong enough. The knowledge that he was alive was enough for her and she was determined to fight on even though she was in agony and wanted nothing more to let go like every instinct was telling her to. Despite her desire to recover, on the 20th May 2011 her heart stopped again after a blood clot formed from the sutures on her chest and lodged in her lungs and she was resuscitated after being dead for five minutes. On the 21st May 2011, a complication with medication caused complications and she was taken back into surgery where her heart stopped again and had to be restarted after being down for three minutes. On June 5th she was informed that her fiancé had broken his neck on impact and had already been buried back home in Albuquerque and that it was a beautiful funeral, and everyone was thinking of her, and he would want her to recover and live a long, happy and fruitful life so let's not dwell on any unpleasantness for too long.

Even when I say it like that, almost detached, it still doesn't make any sense to me. Why did I fight so hard when this is what was left for me? Why didn't I listen to every instinct that told me to let go instead of fight?

I didn't though and I made that choice to survive, to live so how can I blame anyone?

I don't want anyone to think that I believe I am doing this for noble reasons, because I know I'm not. I know I'm being selfish. I know I'm being a coward. I know that I'm weak.

I don't do this lightly. I haven't been planning this for a serious amount of time, but it isn't a spur of the moment decision either. I have sincerely tried to get on with my life. I have tried everything but...I just can't do it anymore.

I was supposed to die in that car but the story was rewritten, so I'm correcting an error.

We were never meant to be apart Troy – if you imagine how hard those ten days were when we were separated in senior year, and times it by a million you would still not understand how hard it has been to spend a year without you.

Fate put us together and I don't believe that whoever predestined us to be together could be so cruel as to separate us like that. This is hell and I can't stay here without you. I'm sorry that I'm weak. I'm sorry that I'm hurting people but...I promise you that I tried so hard.

On January 8th 2012 one Robert O'Hannahan was sentenced to eight years in jail for the accidental death of Troy Bolton and the injury of Gabriella Montez. His sentence was reduced due to diminished responsibility and the understanding that he undertook a rehab program in prison. He will be a free man before he's 35.

Sometimes things aren't fair and bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people. Sometimes things don't make sense.

Like a 21 year old man getting his neck broken on the way home from a basketball game, or a 21 year old girl being pinned to the car seat, almost bleeding to death while begging for her fiancé to talk to her because it was okay, help would be there soon.

Like two people being born to meet and love each other and meeting by chance one night.

Like me sitting here, sending a letter to a man who has been dead for a year.

Once upon a time a girl and a boy met on a dark, cold night as the snow fell and the music played whilst the stars twinkled in the dark sky. They were from lands far, far away from each other but by magic the girl ended up walking into the boy's Kingdom, and they were reunited. From the very second she met him, the girl knew that the boy was special and that he was the one and the boy felt the same, and one night the boy climbed her balcony, sung to her and the world stopped spinning and everything in the universe changed. They survived evil drama queens, interfering friends, orchestrating parents, personal fears and the rapidly approaching future to build a life together. Every day the girl and the boy fell deeper in love with each other and every day just didn't seem long enough for them so one day the boy fell to his knee, pulled out the most beautiful ring in the entire world and asked the girl to be his forever and she said yes. 12 weeks later, an evil man rode up on his battering ram and pounded the girl and boy's chariot. The boy died and the girl broke and all the King's horses and all the King's men couldn't put Gabi together again.

You see in fairytales, happy endings are easy. In stories, good always vanquishes evil.

In reality – the evil man walks away from the crash with a hangover, twelve stitches to a head wound and a broken arm while the boy lies rotting in the ground a thousand miles away from the girl who lies unconscious in a hospital room.

In reality I'm sitting here writing this because I have already called my mom to tell her I love her, and I called Taylor to tell her thanks for her help, and I've told Chad that I was sorry I couldn't make his game and that I'm pleased that he and Sharpay have grown so close. I've called your parents to wish them a happy anniversary and I called Kelsi and Ryan to congratulate them on them moving in together. I've paid my bills, I've packed my bags, I've boxed my photos and written letters to everyone individually to try and give them the closure they need and I've tried to make sure that I've tied up every loose end I can think of to make this easier on everyone so...

I believe in fate.

I believe in destiny.

I believe that we were born to find each other and to be together forever. I know I was supposed to die that day but I didn't. I have to believe that whatever is controlling us will understand that I can't live without you – I can survive without you, but I can't live without you. I have to believe that the people who love me will understand that this is the only thing I can do.

I have to believe that nothing is cruel enough to keep me away from you any longer. I know I'm committing a sin, but I pray that God or whoever is up there recognises that I am doing it for the right reasons. I am correcting an error – a glitch in the plan. I'm finishing our story the way it's supposed to end. With you and me. Forever.

To anyone else who ends up reading this, please don't be angry with me, or sad. This is for the best – I love you all, I'll miss you all and I don't blame any of you but I need to do this. Please, please don't be sad – please be happy for me. This is the only way.

Once upon a time, the girl looks in the mirror and sees the boy looking back at her and knows that she's making the right decision so she puts her mangled engagement ring that had to be cut off her because it had been crushed into her skin by the force of the crash back on, along with the damaged necklace that she never wanted to take off and downs a bottle of sleeping pills before she writes a letter and for the first time in a year, she feels whole again. When the girl closes her eyes she knows she'll be in a better place and by magic she will awaken to the boy kissing her lips happy in the knowledge that finally they can both live happily ever after, where forever means forever. The end.

The end was really a year ago though – this is really the beginning. The beginning of forever.

How can that not be something to celebrate?

I'll be watching you guys, so you better be happy. I love you all and nothing changes that. I just...I just need this. I need him. More than anything, I need him.

I know you'll understand.

Love you all,

Gabriella.

xoxo