Here is the story I want to tell:

The story of how my best friend confessed that he was in love with me, after realizing it all on his own. And I accept him, tell him it's okay. And maybe I love him too, or maybe I don't, but I take the chance to figure that out. My wife is understanding, and maybe we split up or maybe we don't, but we stay close regardless because we don't want to lose each other.

The story of how the two most important people in my life are still around, and I love them both, and we all worked all this out together. I want to tell the story about how this all ends happily, and I never have to live without them. The story of how we all meant well, and we are all good, kind, unselfish people.

Here is the story I am telling:

The story of how my wife got jealous, manipulated my best friend to confess something to me that he wasn't ready to admit to himself. The story of how I did nothing but drink and hurt people. The story of how I was cruel, and heartless, and I pushed my best friend into a dark place and he didn't deserve that.

The story of how I blamed the world, blamed my wife, blamed my remaining friends. The story of how I lost two people I loved, and the story of how the biggest regrets of my life came to pass.

Here is the truth: Wendy made mistakes. So did Kyle. And so did I. God knows so did I. And we all suffered, and we all hurt each other. Kyle is dead, and Wendy is hurting, and I am broken. We were not the people we could have been, or the people we should have been.

Here is where I am now: I am in coffee shop. I am with Kenny.

As he sips his black coffee, he looks out the window, staring at the fog and the grey skies.

"It's been a while," he says, turning back to me and smiling warmly. "How have you been, man?"

I shrug. That's a big question. "I could be better. It's been a weird couple of months."

He laughs. "Yeah, no kidding. How's Cartman?"

I laugh, too. I've been living at Cartman's place since I left Wendy. It's certainly been interesting. I keep intending to move out and find my own place, but it's just so easy to get sucked in to Cartman's lazy, luxurious life.

"I'll move out next week," I say, grinning.

"Sure you will. You've been saying that since you moved in." Kenny raises an eyebrow at me.

"What can I say? Cartman makes great waffles." I take a sip of my latte, and look around the place. Tweek's coffee hasn't changed much since we were kids. They repainted it a decade ago, but it's looking like they should do it again.

"Maybe you shouldn't leave. I think you guys would make a great couple. He could make you breakfast in bed on your birthday," Kenny grins and looks at me with mischief in his eyes. "It would be so adorable."

"Hey, careful what you say, I'll do it," I reply, laughing. "I'm not above marrying Cartman for his money."

"No, you wouldn't be, would you?" Kenny says, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm gonna just go ahead and ignore that," I say. I shoot him a good-humored glare.

"I think you'd be sweet together," he replies thoughtfully. "Just imagine making love to him."

"Sick, dude," I say with a groan. "I'm never gonna get that image out of my mind."

There's a pause, and it's a little awkward. Maybe it's been too long since I've seen Kenny. The silences that occur in conversations never used to feel weird with him. I was always comfortable with Kenny. I should really keep in touch better. I don't want to be put in the position Cartman used to be in. Then I notice the expression on Kenny's face, like he's gathering the courage to say something.

"I went to Kyle's grave the other day," he says quietly, not really looking at me.

I start to chew on the inside of my lip. I'm not sure I'll ever be okay with talking about Kyle. It still hurts. It always hurts. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he sighs a little, and I think I see his eyes get shinier. I can't be sure. "It's weird, you know. I'm still never completely sure that the gravestone is real."

I let out a small chuckle. "I know what you mean."

"It's fucked up, Stan," he says softly. "It'll never be the same without him, you know. Every day just feels off. Like something's missing."

I look out the window at the gray skies again. Maybe if I look up enough, I'll start to feel like he's there. I don't know if I ever believed in a heaven, but at times like this, I just wish someone had instilled that belief in me. I don't want to hope he's up there. I was to feel sure; I want to feel like I know he's there. I wish he knew how sorry I am. "It'll never get better," I say. "He'll always be gone."

"Yeah," Kenny replies, looking at his hands. "I know."

He smiles at me, though it doesn't quite look real, and I try to smile back. I wonder how forced it looks right now.

"On an unrelated note," he says, his voice and face getting serious again. "How have your AA meetings been going?"

I sigh, staring at my latte instead of him. "They're going okay. I still hate them," I look back up at him and smile. "Hey, two months sober though."

He smiles wide, all his teeth showing and his eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks so genuinely happy and proud that I can feel myself blush a little. "Hey, that's great!"

I shrug, getting a little uncomfortable with the praise. It doesn't feel like an accomplishment. It feels like the fact that I even have to stay sober is pathetic. I've always thought that just being an alcoholic in the first place is shameful enough that no matter how long you resist drinking, it'll never be something to be proud of. "It's really not that big a deal."

"No, it's a huge deal. I'm so proud of you." He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it gently. I can feel my face getting hotter. But it's nice that he's so supportive.

"Thanks," I say with an awkward chuckle.

He pulls his hand away and straightens up a little. I guess this is the serious part of our talk. "Have you seen or talked to Wendy recently?"

I wince a little at her name. It hurts to think of her sometimes. "No, not since I got all my stuff out of that house," I reply. I hate how I treated her. I keep intending to call her and meet for coffee to apologize.

"Bebe says she's been doing better," Kenny says. "I think enough time has passed, you know."

I shrug. "I'm just not sure I'm ready to face her."

Kenny laughs. "If you wait until you're ready, will you ever call her?"

I smile sadly and pick at my fingernails. "You've got a point."

He looks at me with too much sympathy in his eyes. "If you don't want to yet, then that's your choice. Hey, maybe she'll get in touch with you first."

"After the things I said to her?" I shake my head. Kenny is too optimistic. "I seriously doubt it."

He shrugs. "There's always the chance."

I shake my head again, more serious than before. "Not in this situation."

"What do you want to happen? When you do call her, I mean," he asks, furrowing his brow.

I laugh, running my fingers through my hair. "You know, I don't really know. I've forgiven her. I just hope she forgives me."

Kenny smiles at me, eyes warm. "Well, like I said, enough time has passed. Who knows what could happen? The world is full of second chances."

I smile back. "I guess anything is possible."

A/N- Thank you all so, so much for reading and for reviewing. I really loved writing this story and hearing what you thought about it along the way. I'm sorry it took so long to write- especially that on huge four year gap between chapters. I've gone back through the earlier chapters and edited a few mistakes and whatnot that I found, so I am completely done with his story. I'm kind of sad that it's over now, because I've enjoyed it so much. I hope you guys liked it, let me know what you think of the ending or anything else. I'm looking for ideas of other stories to write, so if you want me to write about a particular character or pairing, you can go ahead and ask. Also, if you want to talk about this story, or any story I wrote or am writing, or if you want to talk about anything at all, feel free to send me a message anytime. Thanks again, I hope you enjoyed it.