They say that all good things must come to an end. For the first twenty-two years of Brandon's life, he had no idea what that meant. There was the occasional vacation that he wished could last longer than they did, and visits with his friends as a child. Still, it wasn't until Christy broke off their engagement that he truly understood the phrase.

That was the day he died.

Not literally, of course -- he still breathed to this day, and his pulse never dropped much below eighty beats per minute. Brain activity, if that ever had existed for him, was completely normal... but when Christy said good-bye, nothing was ever the same again.

You have to understand that Christy wasn't just a "girlfriend" -- she was his soulmate. She was the one person in the universe that, when everything was said and all the rest of it was done, he could go to, hold her in his arms, and know that no matter what, everything would be okay.

On that horrible day, he decided nothing would ever be okay again.

It had started out like any normal day. Brandon got out of bed, took a shower, and ate Captain Crunch. He was a little early and so he read some, which made him late. His boss had forgiven him, like she always did, and Brandon set about organizing and pricing books -- once loved, as Marsha said, not used.

After work, he had gone to see Christy. They met at her house and walked to the movie theatre. The movie they went to see was some tear jerker that both of them had wanted to see. Afterwards, the two of them had gone for a walk...and that's where things went wrong.

Brandon walked beside Christy, their hands entwined. Her hand felt very small and warm in his, almost insubstantial but reassuring. Christy's hands were one of Brandon's favorite things about her. They were delicate and tiny but they were also strong and a little worn from waiting tables at her father's restaurant. They smelled like flowers and home cooked meals and they knew just when to be either gentle or harsh. The first moment Brandon knew he was hers forever was the first time he touched her hand.

He noticed that Christy was a little quiet that evening. She didn't have much to say as they walked along. She was usually full of comments about the movie and funny anecdotes of things that happened at the restaurant. Knowing that everyone needed quiet companionship once in awhile, Brandon didn't try to break the mood. He just walked and continued to hold her hand.

After nearly a half hour, during which they had made their way to the park near her house, she pulled on his arm and led him to a bench. During the day, being summer, it would have been full of laughing and playing children and their parents, but nearing nine o'clock, there wasn't another soul in sight. As they sat, Brandon looked at Christy, intent to tell her he loved her, but was stopped short by the sight that greeted him.

There was a tear slinking its way down her cheek, and her eyes bristled with more yet to be shed. He could see clearly that she was struggling to maintain composure. He saw, too, that it was a losing battle.

"What's wrong, honey?" he asked, full of sudden concern. He thought that perhaps the movie had gotten to her more than she'd let on. Later, as the scene replayed itself in his memory, he would fervently wish that were the case.

At first she didn't answer. Instead, she pulled her hand out of his and played absently with the diamond ring on her finger, the one he'd given her just two months prior. When she spoke, her voice was soft but controlled, without a trace of the warbly quality that comes with crying.

"I've just been thinking about things," she said, not looking at anything in particular.

"Like what?"

"Us."

Tears combined with "us" was not a good sign, he realized, and something began to gnaw at the pit of his stomach.

"I don't know when it started," she continued, "but lately I've been feeling trapped." She slipped the ring off her finger, the only time he ever remembered her doing so since he put it there. "And I think it's this."

Brandon suddenly couldn't breathe. He knew what was coming next, and that it would kill him. He was terrified of her next words, and when she spoke them, it was as if she'd sprayed him with liquid nitrogen and hit him with a hammer.

"I can't marry you. I'm sorry." Christy placed the ring gently into his hand and closed his fingers around it, then stood up and walked away.

That was it. No reason, no explanation. Just a devastating good-bye.

He didn't turn to watch her walk home. He didn't open his hand to stare at the ring. He simply lay down on the bench, too stunned to do anything. From blissful love to complete loss in less than five seconds.

It was impossible to tell how long he lay there. Time had just lost all meaning. It could have been twenty seconds, or twenty years -- he didn't know or care. During that time, though, it began to sink in that she had broken off their engagement. Numbness melted away to reveal an ache so deep, no amount of Tylenol in the world could ease it. He clenched the ring in his fist, his last remaining piece of his relationship, until it began to tear into the palm of his hand. Its pain, combined with the pain in his chest, finally caused the dam to burst. He cried, his body racked with deep, painful sobs that never seemed to end. Just when he thought he was done, a fresh bout of weeping overtook him and it started again.

He spent the night in the park, and didn't get a wink of sleep. Why bother? His entire world had just come to an end.

Despite what Brandon thought that night, life did continue, in a sense. The sun kept rising and setting, and the world seemed to continue on as usual.

Brandon somehow managed to appear unchanged to the world. His family and friends often commented on the fact that "Brandon seemed to be taking it well." They didn't realize that on the inside, Brandon was far from well.

Inside, Brandon just stopped. He couldn't keep himself from running that last conversation with Christy over and over in his mind. He became obsessed. Christy had been his whole life since the day he met her. He could not - would not - give her up. He soon decided that Christy would not be rid of him as easy as she thought. A plan began to form in Brandon's distressed mind. He would hire a private detective so he could know about her daily life - where she would be going, what she would be doing. He would stage accidental-on-purpose meetings. He would haunt all her usual hang-outs. Everywhere Christy went, she would find Brandon there.

Brandon was convinced that she would relent when she saw his devotion, and that they would pick up where they left off. No, better than where they left off. Things would be perfect. Now it was time to get started.

It was several weeks later when Brandon got a package in the mail. It was a large yellow envelope, overstuffed almost to bursting. There was no return address, but he knew who it was from. In excitement, he grabbed it out of the box, leaving the bills behind, and hurried to the house.

As he reached the table, he was already pulling at the flaps, trying to get them open. He was careful because he didn't want to harm any of the things inside. He was sitting before the glue finally gave way and the envelope opened with a slight ripping noise. A grin spread over Brandon's face as he caught glimpses of what was inside. Gently, he tipped over the envelope and shook it. Pictures and notes fell out onto the table. Christy's smiling face looked up at him, and it hurt to remember how long it had been since he'd seen that smile in person. His spirits lifted slightly, though, as he thought, Soon....soon....

When at last he came face to face with her again, both of their lives would irrevocably change -- even though neither one of them would realize it until it was too late.

Christy Neil stepped into the dusk-induced gloom, careful to lock the door behind her. After a gruelling work shift in the bookstore, the last thing she needed was to have the boss on her case for having forgotten to lock up. Foot traffic in the shopping center was still moderate, as most of the shops were still open. She took the opportunity to do a little window shopping before heading to her car. In the nearby boutique she saw a pretty floral dress that she thought she might want to pick up for her cousin's wedding in a few weeks. She waved at the shop's owner, a tiny woman with an infectious smile.

As she passed the music shop, she bumped into someone, causing him to drop the bags he carried.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed and bent down to help him retrieve some of the discs that had slipped out of the bag.

It was when her eyes met his that she stopped short, arm stretched out in a frozen attempt to return his merchandise. It was him. She had thought she would never see him again.

"Hi," Brandon said to her with a shy smile. "Fancy meeting you here."

The moment stretched for an eternity, and then for infinity afterwards. It really was Brandon.

Some of the old feelings welled up in her chest and tried to crush her heart, but she quelled them. This was not a time to get bubbly and mushy. She just wanted to go home and take a relaxing bath. And yet... here he was.

"It's been a long time," she said. Lame, Christy. She would have to work on her post-relationship small-talk later, she decided.

"Ages," he agreed. He never took her eyes from hers. In a way it was romantic. In a more important way, it just seemed creepy.

"Well, here you go," she said, trying to give him his compact disc. She noted it was a country release. He had always listened to country music when he was sad. He couldn't still be upset about the break-up, could he? It had been almost six months!

With eyes that bored into her, he took his purchase and placed it in his bag, smiling the whole time. "You look really good," he said.

Here we go, she realized, and braced herself for the barrage of guilt and sadness that he was bound to throw her way. He surprised her, though.

"You take care of yourself." And just like that, he walked away. She watched him go to his car, reach into his pocket for his keys, and drive off without even looking back. She had thought that would relieve her, but instead she found herself sort of upset by the fact that seeing her again didn't even seem to affect him.

Except for the creepy way he had kept staring at her.