The last door to the right; the room holds both the pain and the joy. I slowly make my way towards the big brown door. The handle is cold as my hand begins to turn it. The hinges creak and the door swings open. I stand in the doorway taking in the old office. Everything is exactly as he left it, the whole house is. The desk is covered in papers, the curtains half drawn. I make my way to the window and pull away the drapes. Sunlight fills the room that hasn’t been opened in almost five years. A beam of light hits the desk, highlighting a pile a papers. Slowly, I circle the room, memories flooding back, both good and bad. When I reach the desk I see half of an envelope under a pile of papers and freeze. Like a sinkhole, a giant fissure has re-opened in my heart. My trembling hands pull the card from under the pile, the rest of the room forgotten. On the front is my name scrawled in the handwriting that could only be his. Tears fill my eyes and start to roll down my cheeks as the memories of him replay through my mind.  Pulling the card from its jacket, I slowly open it and begin to read the messy script.
Dear Sam,
Happy Valentine’s Day! I know that I usually don’t do things this, but I overheard you talking to Rachel about how you didn’t expect to get any Valentines this year, since you broke up with Jake. I wanted to prove you wrong. You have people who love you right here and you don’t have to go searching for it. You’ll find your prince charming someday soon. I love you so much, you little poo.
Your big bro
Feb 14, 2005