She sat on the doorstep of the house, staring out into the busy street. To anyone that walked past, she either looked like someone who had forgotten their key or a homeless person who was seeking shelter from the rain. The droplets poured from the sky endlessly, as if their sole purpose in life was to flood the world and cleanse it of the filth that humanity had brought. She had forgotten her umbrella, leaving it by the backdoor in her rush to get here on time but the busy city had worked against her. Traffic, construction and the slow walking tourists had all combined to make her late. Her window of opportunity was like an hourglass filled with sand, slowly filtering down until there was nothing left.

The young woman sat there, shifting from side to side every so often in nervousness as she waited for him to return. Her hair was normally long and straight; shining brown locks that were the envy of her friends but now it was bedraggled and frizzy – a bit like she had just rolled out of bed. Her eyes were a murky brown, the shade that you would see on a tree on the edges of forests. They were normally bright and full of excitement, shining with that mischievous glint that her friends loved so much. Today, those eyes were filled with sadness and regret. They screamed an untold story of pain and bad decisions, all of which culminated in this moment. She wore a simple pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, with a navy coat tightly wrapped around her shivering form. It lacked a hood so the rain simply ran down her face, shining in the dim light of the street.

A taxi pulled up in front of the building and the woman lifted her head to see who it was that was getting out. Two men got out of the car, one of them in his thirties, the other in his early forties. They paid the taxi driver and jogged quickly towards the door, trying to get out of the rain but stopping in place when they saw her sitting there. One of them looked at his friend in confusion but the younger one stared at the woman with fear and hope warring in his eyes. He stepped forward, ignoring the rain that was drenching his clothes. He stared her up and down as if trying to compare her to a memory that he had clung to. His mouth narrowed into a straight line and his fists clenched, clearly, someone was angering him. Yet, his eyes practically glowed with hope and a tiny bit of joy as they looked at one another.

"Stephanie?"

The younger man spoke, timid and quiet. His voice was deeper than she had remembered. She nodded shyly, standing up from the step so that he could see her properly. They stood in stunned silence for a few minutes, the man's friend looking between the pair of them, completely confused. Eventually, she decided to break the silence:

"Hello, Matthew."

Matthew or MatPat as he was most commonly known stood completely stunned. Right here, in front of him was his wife. He hadn't seen her in over a year. The last time he had seen her face, she was kissing him on the forehead and whispering that she would come back for him. He had been sleeping at the time and had thought it was all a dream. However, when he woke up and she was gone, he knew it had been real. Years had gone by, her meaning became painfully clear. They use to call each other nicknames, shortening one another's name and making puns from them. Mat and Steph, the ultimate couple. Inseparable till the end.

"I-I...haven't seen you in a long time. Where the fuck have you been?"

Stephanie shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot, clear shame encompassing her entire being as the simple question pierced her very core. It had been such a long time and that was entirely her fault. She had left him behind despite what she knew about where she had left him. Running her fingers through her hair, Stephanie tried to figure out what she could say, what she could tell him. How do you make up for something when you can barely forgive yourself for it? Sighing, she looked up Matthew – her eyes drinking in what he had become. Matthew's friend patted him on the shoulder as if to provide some form of comfort and then walked off, vanishing into another house further down the street.

"Tell me, Stephanie. What was so important? You left me alone for an entire year! You didn't tell me where you went, I thought you had been kidnapped or died! What the fuck was so important that you decided to just up and leave! We're married, we're meant to communicate yet you just left!"

He looked almost identical to the last time she had seen him but older, more mature. The childish joy and mischievous that she had loved so much wasn't there anymore. Both of their sparkles had dimmed and faded over time. Bristles were evident on his chin and it was clear that he hadn't washed his hair in a while – she always used to have to remind him because he'd get so caught up in his theories and forget about it. She loved his dedication to his work and the community they had built but everything had gotten too much.

Yet now his fists were clenched, the skin on his knuckles tight and white as he fought back the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He had pushed this back into a tiny box in his brain and chained it up. Now as she stood in front of him, still beautiful despite being drenched by the rain, the chains on his box were straining and thoughts began to leak out. How could she leave him like that? Alone in a big empty house with Skip and forced to pretend that he was ok whenever friends came around. Jason and Chris were on constant eggshells around him, terrified that one wrong word would set him off into a rage or a mental breakdown. He had ended up sleeping on the sofa downstairs, unable to sleep in the bed where she had.

"I sent you a letter every week. Jason told me that you guys knew... That you were doing okay and that you'd come see me."

Matthew paused, his rage shrinking as he processed her words. What letters? Why would he need to come see her? Why hadn't she come home sooner? He shook his head violently as if rejecting the notion that he could potentially be in the wrong here. She'd always said he was stubborn and here he was proving that exact point. Running his hands through hair, he looked at her – his eyes catching on her wedding ring which still sat on her finger. It was well cared for and clean, she clearly polished it frequently to keep it in such a state. The idea of her sitting in a hotel room in the middle of nowhere, legs hanging over the edge of the bed and a small bottle of polish clutched in her hand. In reality, Stephanie had sat on the edge of her bed and held her wedding ring with tears dripping down her face, quiet sobs escaping her chest.

Staring into Matthew's eyes, Stephanie was terrified by what she saw. He was completely oblivious to what she was talking about. He genuinely had no idea what she meant. Had he ignored her letters? Did he forget about her? Did he move on? The thought of Matthew with other women filled her veins with grief as her mind concocted vicious images of him holding hands, kissing and joking around with other women. Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought of him loving another. She knew that a whole year without her must have shattered something in Matthew and nobody knew whether it was going to ever be fixed.

"Matthew... I-I. I was in a psychiatric ward."

The anger and confusion morphed into clarity. The truth slammed into Matthew like a truck, knocking the air out of him and causing him to stagger slightly. All those letters, the ones that sat unopened in a pile on the kitchen table. 51 letters. Her sloped handwriting on the front, always carefully writing his name as if even the words were precious to her. Her writing had been slightly shaky yet it was clear she had put so much time into perfecting it. That moment, when he had read that first letter was as clear as day to him now and the shame he felt for forgetting it burned to his very core. Why had he suppressed it? Why had he pushed those letters, his wife's wellbeing to the back just because his anger had clouded his judgement?

"You were... in a hospital?"

Stephanie stared at her husband, every word he was saying cutting into her heart like tiny knives. The tears she had been holding back spilt over, running down her face. They were lost amongst the raindrops that still fell upon the pair of them but they were not lost on Matthew. Seeing his wife crying seemed to knock some sense into him and he staggered forward, pulling Stephanie to his chest and stroking her hair, trying to sooth her. Stephanie gripped his shirt with her fists, burying her head into his chest as if she could escape the world through it. She knew they had to talk but she didn't want to, she wanted to stay like this forever. The longer she stayed in Matthew's hold, the more emotional she became. Soon her tears turned into outright sobs until her chest was heaving and her breath was coming in short, distressed pants.

"Shhh. Shhh. You're home now. I'm here. We won't be lost again. I will always find you."

Moving softly, Matthew carefully swept Stephanie up and carried her into the house – bridal style. It was very reminiscent of when they got married, except now they would try to rebuild their lives rather than begin building it. He laid her on the couch, grabbing various towels and spare clothes that he had kept around as he couldn't bear to throw her stuff out. Excusing himself to the kitchen, he left her to get changed. She always liked her privacy. Opening the fridge, he grabbed a Diet Coke and drank it, knowing that he was going to need the caffeine boost to get through the rest of the day. A flash of curiosity hit Matthew at that moment and he turned towards the table, the pile of letters beckoning to him. They were stacked in twelve piles, each pile with four letters excluding the one closest to him. One letter for every week she had been gone. He grabbed the first one and reopened it, pushing past the simple tape keeping it shut.

"My Dearest Matthew;

I know you must be furious, confused and distraught at this moment. I bet you are stalking around the living room at this moment, running your hands through your hair as you read this until you end up with the infamous Rage Hair style. However, I do have good reason to do what I did. I left you, not forever. I'm merely going away for a while until I get better.

I know what you are thinking now; you're wondering what could possibly be that bad that I have to leave you? You're running through the list of options in your mind, skipping through addictions and types of cancer, blood problems and mental illnesses. You're blaming yourself for noticing the signs of it earlier, for not being a good enough husband to support me through it. That's where you are wrong Matthew. You've been nothing but supportive since the day we met and I couldn't be more proud to call you my best friend, husband and lover. I wouldn't be alive without you.

Where am I? I've put myself into a psychiatric ward. It's that little one we drive past whenever we go to PAX. It specialises in psychosis treatment and management. Why? Matthew, I love you with all my heart but I've always been ashamed of this. I've never wanted you to think less of me for suffering from this. I hear voices. I hear cruel, cruel voices telling me that if I don't do something then you'll be murdered. They tell me constantly how worthless, ugly and useless I am. They criticise everything that I do and I can't make them stop. I thought they would go away once I started believing in myself more but even now, with all the live streams and business meetings where we come away happy – I still hate myself and the voices still linger.

So, after talking to my parents and to Jason – I've decided to admit myself. I'm not coming out until I have coping mechanisms in place and the appropriate medication to help me survive daily life. You deal every day with hate online and you constantly doubt yourself despite all of us and the GTLive community reminding you of how awesome you are. I knew that if I told you about my condition, it would break you. I was always going to tell you but our states of mind never matched up. You weren't ready and neither was I. That's why I'm writing you this letter. So then you can know the truth and I can ensure that our marriage will be as strong as it deserves to be. You can visit me if you want. Visiting time is from 6-8 during the week.

Eternally Yours,

Stephanie."

The world stopped around him as the words processed in his mind. His mouth dried up and tears pricked at the edge of his eyes. She had psychosis? She'd had it all the time they were together and he never noticed? How could he not have noticed? He'd seen her cry and smile, scream and laugh, sleep and suffer yet he missed all the warnings signs. Frantically, Matthew grabbed the next letter and skimmed through it, continuing with this until he had read every single letter that she had sent him. Most of them were updates on how her week was going, what medication they were giving her etc but as the weeks went on, the tone of them changed. They went from hopeful to depressed. The same sentence started to pop up again and again:

"You must hate me."

She thought he hated her? Of course, she did! She had been in a hospital, battling her inner demons, having to be brave every single day and he hadn't visited her once! He hadn't even read her fucking letters. Jason, Chris, her parents and even his parents had gone out to visit her but he had sat on his ass at home and continued writing shitty theories. He still hosted the live streams but the constant question was about where Stephanie was. He didn't read chat or twitter anymore. No more bad puns. Just video games and whatever witty commentary his exhausted body could come up with. Tears rolled down his face like the raindrops outside and he sat on the kitchen tiles, wondering what the hell was wrong with him in order for him to treat his beloved wife this way. His whole body shook in self-loathing and grief, his mind imagining the hell she went through without him.

Stephanie stood in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. The warm shower and clean clothes had refreshed her slightly but all she could see in the reflection were her eyes. They were slightly sunken and empty of all happiness. Sure, the voices were muffled by her medication but that wasn't enough to stop her own self-loathing as she thought about Matthew. He had left to the kitchen and never came back, probably leaving out the back door so he wouldn't have to deal with her anymore. Maybe he was off getting divorce papers so she would be out of his life for good.

Opening the bathroom door cautiously, Stephanie pulled her shirt down and walked out into the hallway. She padded quietly towards the living room, incredibly familiar with the house but also feeling like a stranger in her own home. Nothing had really changed since she was last there; even her laptop was still in its usual place next to the whiteboard. Theories were written on the whiteboard, various business meetings were scheduled for the near future. It was as if time hadn't passed in this place. It had remained entirely untouched by the outside forces that they had no control over. Stephanie sat cautiously on the sofa, unsure of how she should behave.

Meow.

Skip came barrelling down the stairs, his sleek white body moving so fast it was almost a blur. He launched himself onto the couch and landed on Stephanie's lap, instantly rubbing himself against her and licking her hands in a desperate attempt for attention. A smile crossed Stephanie's face and she gently rubbed his head, enjoying the purring sounds that he produced in his contentment. She hadn't seen Skip in nearly as long as Matthew, although Jason did attempt to FaceTime with him before – Skip ended up charging into the laptop at the sight of Stephanie and knocking it off the table. Moving carefully, Stephanie grabbed Skip and cuddled him into her chest. For once, he didn't squirm or try to get out of it; he merely kept licking her and let himself be hugged. He could probably sense her distress. Eventually, he did get annoyed and merely sat on her lap, meowing pitifully whenever she stopped petting him.

"Steph."

Matthew moved across the room and sat next to her on the couch, giving Skip a quick pat before turning to face her. He had been crying. She could see it, clear as day on his no matter how hard he had tried to hide it from her. She knew. She always knew. He looked at her like he had seen the world burn and he had barely survived. He looked at her as if she was the sun that lit up his entire existence. She never thought she would see that look again. She looked at him as if he was the only thing keeping her on this planet and in a way that was true. It was the thought of him that kept her going through the treatment. It was the thought of his smile and his kindness that made her get up the morning. Even if it would never be towards her anymore.

"I-I thought you hated me, Matthew. You never responded to any of my letters, never came to visit. I was entirely alone in that place. Others came to see me but they could never bring the same comfort that your face and your smile could bring. I dreamt of you every night, dreaming that you'd come and rescue me from my own mind. That you'd kiss me and we'd dance in the rain and the world would fix itself. Those dreams morphed into nightmares that you had died, that you hated me, that you never wanted to see me again and that you-you'd moved onto another woman.

I tormented myself every night with the images of you kissing her, holding her hand and booping her nose. All those things we did together being given to someone else. I thought you wanted me gone, that you wanted me dead so that you didn't have to deal with me anymore. I came close to the edge so many times but hauled myself back. Where were you, Matthew? You left me alone in that abyss of darkness, that inescapable pit that I had pulled you out of so many times. I needed you!"

The tears fell openly and Matthew's heart was breaking with every accusation. He had no excuse. It was entirely his fault. He had almost killed the woman he loved with his stubbornness and anger. He grabbed her hands and intertwined them with his, holding them together as they'd done so many times in the past. Placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles, he looked into her eyes – hoping that his eyes spoke the words that he could not say. They shone with fierce adoration and love for her that caused Stephanie to stop breathing for a moment. That loving fire, that determination and mischief that she adored so much was back. He loved her. He still loved her. He didn't hate her. He loved her.

He loved her. She loved him. That was all they needed to rebuild their life.

Meow.

Oh and Skip.

A/N

Sorry to give you guys two feelsy ones back to back, there's a happy one next week thanks to one of you guys's requests ;)

Big thanks to Sammi for helping me out with this one, she's an awesome person and writer so you guys should check her out she's sammisue_ on here :D

Much love guys,

Caitlin (