Where Have You Been? [Destiel]

Epilogue

I sat on my bed. Nothing happened.

I ate some food. Nothing happened.

They tried to talk to me.

Nothing happened.

He never came back. He never knocked on my dorm room door to take me bowling or to the diner down the street. Nothing ever happened.

Weeks had passed and I still hadn't gotten over him. It was pathetic, really. I never stopped loving him. I couldn't; he wouldn't let me.

Why, you might ask, hadn't I gotten over him? I only dated him for, what, 3 months? And yet, I still loved him.

I was numb. I couldn't feel pain, I couldn't feel sadness, I couldn't feel joy. Nothing ever happened.

Until one day, I was back at home for Christmas break. I stood in the shower, letting the water burn against my face, not caring that I was wasting all the hot water. I stayed in there for maybe an hour before Anna told me that I should probably get out and sleep for a while. So I climbed out of the shower and got dressed.

I looked at the note Dean left me. I thought of the only class I enjoyed this year. English.

Maybe that's how I would get through this. Maybe I could finally feel again after I did what I was meant to do. I glanced at my desk while Portugal. The Man played in the background.

At my desk, there was a pen and an old notebook that my mom gave me before she died. I had never written in it, let alone opened it.

And that day, that one cold, snowy Saturday, I decided to open it.

The pages were lined and there were little designs in the corners of each page. It looked and smelled new although it was many years old. It smelled like books.

I carefully picked up a cheap pen and took the cap off before dragging my pen across the page, making circular motions for each letter as I wrote.

I didn't stop writing. Until today.

That Saturday, December 19, I relived our story. I wrote and wrote and wrote, reliving it just as Dean would have wanted me to.

I always thought that meeting my soul mate would be significant; that there would be fireworks or a beautiful sunset or something to let me know that it was happening. Sparks flying, electricity, something to give me a hint. I thought that I would meet them at a 4th of July party or a wedding or some other get together. Or that I would meet them in my favorite record store or in the heart of my favorite city, something romantic like that. But no, the way I met my soul mate was utterly unexpected and to be honest, the whole meeting was just rude. Not my type. Not at first, at least.