The End (12)

                                    

                                          
Of course it rained. Has it even stopped raining in the past year? Has it ever been sunny in my nearly 30 years of life at all? 

                          
The cemetery sat indignantly in the rain,  everything from the fake flowers to the grave stones to our unnecessarily fancy shoes getting muddy and faded and wet. There weren't any people there, so Dan's parents and I were alone. Dan's grave, fresher than all the other ones, was exactly where I remember it being, even though his actual funeral was a blur. I stepped lightly and quickly and tried to avoid mud puddles, with Dan's parents at my heels. They shared an umbrella and didn't insult me by asking if I wanted to share it with them. 

                          
I let the water drip down my face as we finally approached his gravestone. 

                          
Daniel Howell. Son, Friend,  Brother, Hero. 1991-2016.
                          
I sighed and set down the flowers I had bought on the way here. Zwartkops. The blackest flowers I could find, though they were mostly just a deep purple. I figured they were really pretty, something Dan would like. Something aesthetic. I felt myself begin to smile, a genuine, heart-broken smile. I set down the blanket on the ground and sat, bringing my satchel to my lap. I pulled out my note cards, and Dan's parents nodding encouragingly at me as I looked up at them. Raindrops fell onto the paper like tears as I sighed, and began.
                          
"Dan. I've waited a very long time to say this. Too long. There aren't words for the pain I feel right now. I constantly feel like crying, though for some reason the tears just haven't been coming. I told your parents. It took a while, but I did it. 

                          
"You're gone, but I know that no one will ever forget you. You've touched so many hearts, saved so many lives, that you will be remembered forever. And that was something you were always afraid of. Leaving behind a bad legacy, or none at all. People were worried about us, Dan. People cared about us.
                          
"I saw your video. I don't know what to say. I'm glad you made it. So people could see it. So people could know. You explained it well. I can't say I completely understand, and I don't think I ever will. But I sort of do. I'm not mad at you, Dan. I feel bad. I know you don't want anyone to think it's my fault, including me, but I can't help it if I do. I should have been there for you." I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up to find Mr. and Mrs. Howell turning on their heels and exiting the graveyard. I smiled again, and turned back to Dan's gravestone.
                          
I knew they would come back, eventually. We all would. But they could definitely sense I needed to be alone, and I was grateful for that. I did need to be alone, just myself, in the graveyard, with Dan, in the rain. 

                          
"I should have been there for you. But like you said, you were broken. I've... I've never been very good at fixing things, Dan. I'm only good at breaking things. And I think I just broke you farther and farther every time I tried to help. And I'm sorry.
                          
"But the thing is, this didn't end the pain, Dan. It just transferred it to me, and your parents, and to Louise and Chris and Peej and Cat and all our other friends and subscribers. It didn't make it better for anyone except yourself." I didn't even look down at the cards anymore; I was speaking from my heart. Now that his parents weren't here anymore- I heard the car doors shut and the taxi zoom away- I could say anything to him. I was just spewing things I didn't know how to say until just then.
                          
"I'm sorry. That was rude. But... I miss you so much. I can't stand going to sleep alone anymore. I can't stand waking up and knowing you're not going to be there. I hate setting up the camera and lights and microphone and then taking it all down again because I'm not ready to film.
                          
"And I don't think I ever will be. I don't think I'll ever make videos again. But you know what, I think that's okay. I was growing out of it. I was losing subscribers. But I'll miss it. It might be the last thing I have to hold onto that I had with you.
                          
"God, none of this makes any sense."
                          
I sighed, all of my words gone. I took deep breaths as tears threatened to spill from my eyes. Now to say what I've been meaning to say.

                          
"I think I loved you, Dan. I don't know when that happened. Maybe it was our first PINOF. Maybe it was when you moved in. All I know is that I found myself wanting to be closer and closer to you as you drifted farther and farther away from me. It doesn't matter now. But I just want you to know that you were loved. By so many. By your parents and your brother and me. I love you."
                          
And, with nothing else to say, I stood, taking one last thing out of my satchel. A sticky note with a single word written on it.
                          
I folded up my blanket and bent my head as I look at his gravestone for what felt like years. I smiled, and felt my tears mingle with the rain. It's okay to cry. It means you can feel.
                          
And I left. I left, promising myself I'd come back again and again, maybe every day, maybe twice. I left, promising myself that I would deal with everything I'd been putting off like canceling our flight that we were supposed to take tomorrow, and the tour. Finally upload the video. Finally put his pictures back up. Donate his clothes. Make one last video. A goodbye, but not a sad one.
                          
And, as I left behind his gravestone, now adorned with a sticky note that simply said "Ugh", my whisper was almost inaudible, even to me.
                          
"This was the most fun I've ever had."
                          
And the rain slowed to a stop.