I didn't have time to really edit this, so it sucks... but I was in a good mood from the killer three hour shopping spree this afternoon and dug this out from the bottom of my rejected one-shots... Beware: Angst ahead! Enjoy! ;)

When I was just entering elementary school and Seth was still a toddler, I remember my most prized possession was an antique carved wood doll my grandma gave me for my first birthday before she passed away. Of course, the first time I let Seth touch it, he broke it. I swore never to talk to him again, but only three hours later, I was letting him play with the doll our uncle gave me.

When I was halfway through middle school, I was the clear forerunner for the role of Juliet in our school play. But when Mary Hampton got the role, I swore I was to loath her for the rest of my life. We were best friends by the end of seventh grade. We exchanged flowers on opening night.

At the end of high school, I had fallen long and hard for a perfect guy I thought I was going to be with for the rest of time. Always and forever. My future husband. When he broke my heart in a single night to leave me for my cousin, I cried myself to sleep for weeks and vowed never to let him or any other man in ever again. Yet, I know that if anything happened, I'd be crawling back to him in a heartbeat.

I'm weak. I can't help it. My inability to hold grudges has always been a good thing, for my brother's sake, but for the first time, it's not. It makes me weak. I hate being weak. I want to hurt Sam to make him feel the pain he inflicted on me. But I can't. I'm too weak.

"She was a good, kind person. She was caring and everyone loved her."

I bowed my head as I listened to my mother talk. I was wearing the new black dress I bought for this special occasion. I knew I should sad, or even force some tears out because Emily was my cousin and I was supposed to have loved her deeply, but instead, I kept glancing at Sam, wondering if he'd notice how nice my legs look in this dress. I knew how wrong this was; trying to net in a widow when his spouse wasn't even cold in her grave, but I couldn't help it.

Sam shook so hard with the intensity of his grief, I was surprised he hadn't phased yet. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks. I could feel my stomach sink. I wondered if this was my funeral, if he would be equally as sad? Of course not. The truth is, he could never love me as much as he loved Emily. I couldn't even compare; I'd be like a shadow in where Emily once stood in his heart. It wouldn't be fair to either of us if we got together. I should forget about him and try to find someone who can actually make me happy. But I'm still here because the truth remains; I'm weak. If Sam was to spare me a second glance, I'd come running back to him, my tail between my legs.

And I'd hate myself for it.

Reviews= love and more one-shots dug out (I got a whole file of them)!!!