Summer In the City-Songfic/Oneshot

Simply because Regina Spektor is love.

Song can be found here.
NOTE: The song was more of an inspiration and outline for the story, so I won't be strictly following the lyrics. I'll tweak a thing or two...or 6:P

Enjoy.
______________________________________________________________________
Summer always means ones thing here: Tits. Everywhere.

Maybe that was one of the reasons why you wanted to move here for those last few months, so I wouldn't be so lonely...after. You were always like that, wanting what was best for everyone else. To the very end you were the most selfless person I had ever known. You still are.

As much as you would hate it, I know you would, I'm still lonely.

But I also know you'd understand. You were everything to me, anyone with eyes knew that. From that first night, years ago...Everything, that tough exterior I had built up, crumbled. You were the best thing I could have ever wished for.

That's why it's so hard to move on. So hard to even think about finding someone else.

That's what makes me so confused...Dammit, I know you had more fight in you. Were you eager to leave me? Or was it you selflessness again, thinking I deserved someone who wasn't sick? Maybe it's better I don't know the answer, but there are still so many things I wish I got to ask you...

I would've asked you, too. It wasn't that I was afraid. I just thought we had so much more time. Even the doctors were surprised that you passed that night. They were sure that they had gotten most of the cancer, and that the rest would be simple to remove. But, or course, it wasn't the first time doctors had been wrong.

But over the past year without you here, nothing's change. I still love you.

But, I have to admit, sometimes the loneliness got to me. Not so much mentally, the memories of your smile, the way you laughed, kept me company, but physically. I miss the shape of a human body, your body, next to mine. Sometimes, even though I hated doing it, I would go out to different protests, anything that would give me that human contact I needed. I never knew the purpose of the protests, never saw the people there.

I just closed my eyes and imagined you, felt you all around me. It never really did help much.

The way you felt, the way you touched me, it was different. The way your thin fingers traced my lips, my eyes. The way your lips felt against my skin...The moment they touched my body they sent flames everywhere, from the tips of my toes to the broken ends of my hair. It was a one of a kind feeling that nothing, no one could replace.

So why try?

But I did find one thing that somehow made me kind of happy: People watching.

It's interesting, espessicaly here, the variety of people you see. Short people, tall people, happy people and sad people. I could relate with those the most.

But, like I said before, there are girls everywhere. And during the summer now, most have minimal clothing on. And it makes me mad, even furious at times.


Why do these women get to live? Why do they get to live their lives, their beauty the envy of their friends? If anyone in this city, hell, anyone in this world deserved to live, to be that woman on the street, it should be you. You don't know how sick it makes me.

But sometimes, just sometimes, I'm sure I see you. As I stand on a street corner I'll see a girl a jacket you owned, or that one-of-a-kind red hair out of the corner of my eye. I'll dart into the crowd, not minding the angry grunts or curses of other passerby. I'll search and search until I can find that familiar shirt or pair of shoes and tap the owner on the shoulder.

I always hold my breath as they turn around, wishing and hoping that maybe, just maybe, you never left this planet at all. Just snuck away through the window, went away for awhile. I admit, I'm still like a child in that sense, except your passing is the only one I can't grasp. Even now it doesn't seem real.

But when they finally do turn around, I can already tell without seeing anymore than their smile that they aren't you. Your smile was like nothing else, it was enough to light up a whole sky. All of their smiles are dim in comparison.

As soon as I see this, I usually just murmur an apology and slither my way through the crowd. Those were the points when I usually called it a day.

When I get home, I usually just lay in bed, stare through the sky light that you and I would watch the clouds through when you were too tired to go out, and think. I, obviously, think about you mostly. Sometimes about what I'll do tomorrow or the day after that, but right now, as I look up at the black sky, I'm thinking about you. Only you, Alison.

It was a year ago today that you died, and I hope you did knowing how much you meant to me.

I love you, Al, and you better never forget, wherever you are.

That's what happens when you leave a laptop alone with someone who is dealing with major sleep deprivation:P She'll start to make up words...