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xp_logsSaturday afternoon, Alex is watching tv when Lorna tracks him down. She talks. A lot. He listens and in the end, they decide to continue in their separate ways. Sometimes you can't fix what's broken.
Lorna checked her watch then hurried quickly downstairs to the TV room where, if she knew Alex at all, he would be watching whatever game was on. She reminded herself to breathe and tried to ignore the swarm of rabid ferrets—butterflies were vastly gentler—that had taken up residence in her stomach. The sound of college football confirmed her suspicions. She hurried in before she could chicken out. “Alex?”
Alex had spent the entire day camped out in front of the TV watching all the various college games on plus skipping back and forth between ESPN to check on games that weren't televised. Right now, his attention was captured by the UVA va Miami game, until someone called his name. It took his brain a few moments to register that the voice belonged to Lorna, then a couple more to decide if he wanted to respond. After closing his eyes a moment to get up his courage, he turned in his seat to look at her. "Hey..."
She was wearing a navy blue blazer and matching pleated knee length skirt. A thin gold chain glinted at her neck, the pendant hidden inside the collar of her dove grey silk blouse. Her hair had been swept up and pinned into a neat twist. She moved like she was unsure of her balance in her thin-heeled sling-backs, telegraphing her nervousness with every motion. Her purse was hanging from her shoulder. She was abruptly aware that she was staring at him and shook herself into voice, “Hi. So, um, Scott told me that I could, um... He said you were willing to listen?”
Alex didn't even notice what she was wearing, he was more concentrated on her face, a face he still thought was the most beautiful he'd ever seen. But he looked back at the TV a moment when she said what she came here for. His heart skipped a beat, he'd been both hoping and dreading for this moment for a few days and now that she was here...he was scared stiff which led Alex to only be able to nod slowly.
She took a deep breath and perched on the edge of a chair, “So, yeah, you don’t actually have to do anything more than listen. I brought,” she fumbled at her purse and tugged out a piece of paper. “I brought this…I didn’t want to mess this up so I wrote it out before. So just…just let me read this.” It took her several tries to unfold the paper, her hands were shaking so much. The letter was handwritten, covered in inkblots and cross-outs and scribbling in the margins. It was crinkled like it had been wadded up and smoothed back out at least once, probably several times though it had been neatly folded when she’d taken it out.
Alex couldn't help but wince at the thought of a letter, for very good reason, but he looked away to hide it. He didn't see her unfolding it as he was looking for the remote to pause the TV. Taking another deep breath to prepare himself for what she was going to say. It couldn't be any worse then what she'd said before right? Finally, Alex turned and leaning into the cushions, he looked up at her ready to listen.
Lorna met his eyes briefly then licking her lips, bent her head to read. “I love you. That’s the most important thing I can ever say, so I’m starting with it.” She focused on the words, painfully aware of his proximity but afraid to look up once she’d begun. Her voice was by turns shaky, resolute, fervent and pleading. She had to pause several times, fighting to keep it together.
“Once again I’m writing letters to you because you’re out of my reach. Last time I did this, I didn’t know where you were, how you were or what had happened. Now the opposite is true. I know you’re here, safe, at least, and cared for (thank god for Scott and Shiro and Paul and anyone else there with you.) I know you’re hurting but that you will be getting stronger because you have people taking care of you. I know what happened now too. And I know that I’ve hurt you. That this is my fault and that I was wrong. That I’ve said and done something so dreadful it’s unforgivable.
“There is one similarity, one thing that I didn’t know then and don’t know now: if I’ll ever get you back. Get another (I’ve had so many already) chance to be for you what you are to me: love, joy and home.
“I love you. Is there any way for me to say it often enough or sincerely enough or cleverly or simply or at all enough? There is nothing, absolutely nothing that can ever make me love you less. I screwed up. I’m sorry. So very sorry. This is me grovelling. I don’t do it nearly well enough considering how badly I messed up. I have to ask you for mercy because justice would be for you to reject me out of hand.
“I wish I had a touch of telepathy right now. Just enough to give you an idea of what I was thinking during our fight. Words seem so inadequate—so plain against the page, I don’t know if they’ll serve as proper messengers.
“I can’t imagine what you think of me right now.—or if you do at all. Perhaps you’re relieved to be rid of me. You’re free to find someone worthy of you. Someone who isn’t so wrapped up in her own issues that she can’t even see past them to the person she loves most. If I were a more noble-minded person, I’d want that. I’d accept that it’s better for us to stay apart and wish you happiness with a new love.
“But I’m not. I want you for myself. I’ll be damned if I let you go—even though I’m fighting the results of my own selfishness for you now.
“I’m a selfish person, which is something I knew even before Paul spelled it out for me. I made your pain into something that wronged me. As though I had some right to know everything about you simply because I’m in love. I ignored your very real problem for my imagined slight. And irony of ironies, I did what I accused you of doing: made no attempt at communication.
“Were I less consumed by self, I would have be able to do what should have been done; shut the hell up about you talking to me and just fucking listened. I complain that you won’t talk to me then slap you with what you say when you do. No wonder we ended up screaming.
“Please, please, please, though, please notice what I didn’t think--what I would never think--that somehow there was anyway that I thought less of you or wanted you any less. In some sick way, I’m glad to know, actually. I couldn’t do anything before, didn’t even know that I should. Now that I do, I can. I’ll be whatever you need from me if you’ll just let me.
“I love you. I respect you. I want you. Nothing she did to you has the power to change that. No one has that kind of power.
“You need to know that it wasn’t about you, which seems weird considering you’re the one who got hurt. I was scared and god, so guilty. I hurt you knowingly because you’d hurt me unknowingly. I’m not trying to excuse it because nothing can, just trying to explain.
“I love you and that’s scary sometimes. I’ve dated before you and have a slew of exes, both good that utterly dreadful but none of them—not even the worst of them—had the power to hurt me like you can.
“I talked to Samson for a long time the other night and I’m going to continue to see him. There’s too much you in me right now. You’re my foundation and lifeline and that’s not healthy for either of us. So while I’m begging you for forgiveness, I’m also asking for time. Give me a chance to remember how to stand on my own. I was able to do it before you. I need to learn it again. That way I’m not just a burden, not something you have to coddle and worry about breaking.
“Here’s the truth, damning as it is. I failed you. I failed us. I was hurt; I was scared and I wanted you to tell me it would all be okay. It was an incredibly stupid thing to expect, just as it’s crazy for me to ask you to forgive me. But we’ve already determined that I’m incredibly stupid sometimes.
“I love you, Alex. That won’t change no matter what you decide.” She folded the letter precisely, keeping all her attention on the task. “That’s…that’s it.”
Alex just blinked at everything that had just been said to him. Halfway through, he had tried to melt into the cushions but he realized that wasn't going to happen. So he listened and listened hard. And now...now he didn't know what to do. “Lorna I..." He looked down at his hands in his lap. "I don't know what to say...but I agree we need time...we both need time to heal and mend before we can even think of trying again..." He licked his lips and looked up, sincerely as he could. "But I do still love you...if that means anything..." Alex knew that sounded so pathetic after she had just poured out her heart to him but he really couldn't think of anything else. He looked down at his hands again, fidgeting in the awkward silence.
Lorna nodded mutely. She stood, holding the letter, hesitating. Finally she set it down on the table. “I have to go. I’m meeting with the caterers.” But she hesitated still, wanting to say more though she had nothing left to say.
Alex bit his lip as he looked at the letter in front of him but looked up at her when she said she had to go. "If it means anything...I hope everything works out for you. You deserve better as well..." Not really wanting, or more afraid, to hear what she had to say to that, he turned back to the TV and un-muted the game.
Just as well, because she didn’t know what to say to that and incredulous laughter seemed inappropriate. Instead she turn and walked out in a brisk stride that was just short of fleeing. She didn’t slow until she’d reached the garage and fumbled her way into the car. She was a bit late to her meeting but they were too polite to mention it or her red-rimmed eyes.
Lorna checked her watch then hurried quickly downstairs to the TV room where, if she knew Alex at all, he would be watching whatever game was on. She reminded herself to breathe and tried to ignore the swarm of rabid ferrets—butterflies were vastly gentler—that had taken up residence in her stomach. The sound of college football confirmed her suspicions. She hurried in before she could chicken out. “Alex?”
Alex had spent the entire day camped out in front of the TV watching all the various college games on plus skipping back and forth between ESPN to check on games that weren't televised. Right now, his attention was captured by the UVA va Miami game, until someone called his name. It took his brain a few moments to register that the voice belonged to Lorna, then a couple more to decide if he wanted to respond. After closing his eyes a moment to get up his courage, he turned in his seat to look at her. "Hey..."
She was wearing a navy blue blazer and matching pleated knee length skirt. A thin gold chain glinted at her neck, the pendant hidden inside the collar of her dove grey silk blouse. Her hair had been swept up and pinned into a neat twist. She moved like she was unsure of her balance in her thin-heeled sling-backs, telegraphing her nervousness with every motion. Her purse was hanging from her shoulder. She was abruptly aware that she was staring at him and shook herself into voice, “Hi. So, um, Scott told me that I could, um... He said you were willing to listen?”
Alex didn't even notice what she was wearing, he was more concentrated on her face, a face he still thought was the most beautiful he'd ever seen. But he looked back at the TV a moment when she said what she came here for. His heart skipped a beat, he'd been both hoping and dreading for this moment for a few days and now that she was here...he was scared stiff which led Alex to only be able to nod slowly.
She took a deep breath and perched on the edge of a chair, “So, yeah, you don’t actually have to do anything more than listen. I brought,” she fumbled at her purse and tugged out a piece of paper. “I brought this…I didn’t want to mess this up so I wrote it out before. So just…just let me read this.” It took her several tries to unfold the paper, her hands were shaking so much. The letter was handwritten, covered in inkblots and cross-outs and scribbling in the margins. It was crinkled like it had been wadded up and smoothed back out at least once, probably several times though it had been neatly folded when she’d taken it out.
Alex couldn't help but wince at the thought of a letter, for very good reason, but he looked away to hide it. He didn't see her unfolding it as he was looking for the remote to pause the TV. Taking another deep breath to prepare himself for what she was going to say. It couldn't be any worse then what she'd said before right? Finally, Alex turned and leaning into the cushions, he looked up at her ready to listen.
Lorna met his eyes briefly then licking her lips, bent her head to read. “I love you. That’s the most important thing I can ever say, so I’m starting with it.” She focused on the words, painfully aware of his proximity but afraid to look up once she’d begun. Her voice was by turns shaky, resolute, fervent and pleading. She had to pause several times, fighting to keep it together.
“Once again I’m writing letters to you because you’re out of my reach. Last time I did this, I didn’t know where you were, how you were or what had happened. Now the opposite is true. I know you’re here, safe, at least, and cared for (thank god for Scott and Shiro and Paul and anyone else there with you.) I know you’re hurting but that you will be getting stronger because you have people taking care of you. I know what happened now too. And I know that I’ve hurt you. That this is my fault and that I was wrong. That I’ve said and done something so dreadful it’s unforgivable.
“There is one similarity, one thing that I didn’t know then and don’t know now: if I’ll ever get you back. Get another (I’ve had so many already) chance to be for you what you are to me: love, joy and home.
“I love you. Is there any way for me to say it often enough or sincerely enough or cleverly or simply or at all enough? There is nothing, absolutely nothing that can ever make me love you less. I screwed up. I’m sorry. So very sorry. This is me grovelling. I don’t do it nearly well enough considering how badly I messed up. I have to ask you for mercy because justice would be for you to reject me out of hand.
“I wish I had a touch of telepathy right now. Just enough to give you an idea of what I was thinking during our fight. Words seem so inadequate—so plain against the page, I don’t know if they’ll serve as proper messengers.
“I can’t imagine what you think of me right now.—or if you do at all. Perhaps you’re relieved to be rid of me. You’re free to find someone worthy of you. Someone who isn’t so wrapped up in her own issues that she can’t even see past them to the person she loves most. If I were a more noble-minded person, I’d want that. I’d accept that it’s better for us to stay apart and wish you happiness with a new love.
“But I’m not. I want you for myself. I’ll be damned if I let you go—even though I’m fighting the results of my own selfishness for you now.
“I’m a selfish person, which is something I knew even before Paul spelled it out for me. I made your pain into something that wronged me. As though I had some right to know everything about you simply because I’m in love. I ignored your very real problem for my imagined slight. And irony of ironies, I did what I accused you of doing: made no attempt at communication.
“Were I less consumed by self, I would have be able to do what should have been done; shut the hell up about you talking to me and just fucking listened. I complain that you won’t talk to me then slap you with what you say when you do. No wonder we ended up screaming.
“Please, please, please, though, please notice what I didn’t think--what I would never think--that somehow there was anyway that I thought less of you or wanted you any less. In some sick way, I’m glad to know, actually. I couldn’t do anything before, didn’t even know that I should. Now that I do, I can. I’ll be whatever you need from me if you’ll just let me.
“I love you. I respect you. I want you. Nothing she did to you has the power to change that. No one has that kind of power.
“You need to know that it wasn’t about you, which seems weird considering you’re the one who got hurt. I was scared and god, so guilty. I hurt you knowingly because you’d hurt me unknowingly. I’m not trying to excuse it because nothing can, just trying to explain.
“I love you and that’s scary sometimes. I’ve dated before you and have a slew of exes, both good that utterly dreadful but none of them—not even the worst of them—had the power to hurt me like you can.
“I talked to Samson for a long time the other night and I’m going to continue to see him. There’s too much you in me right now. You’re my foundation and lifeline and that’s not healthy for either of us. So while I’m begging you for forgiveness, I’m also asking for time. Give me a chance to remember how to stand on my own. I was able to do it before you. I need to learn it again. That way I’m not just a burden, not something you have to coddle and worry about breaking.
“Here’s the truth, damning as it is. I failed you. I failed us. I was hurt; I was scared and I wanted you to tell me it would all be okay. It was an incredibly stupid thing to expect, just as it’s crazy for me to ask you to forgive me. But we’ve already determined that I’m incredibly stupid sometimes.
“I love you, Alex. That won’t change no matter what you decide.” She folded the letter precisely, keeping all her attention on the task. “That’s…that’s it.”
Alex just blinked at everything that had just been said to him. Halfway through, he had tried to melt into the cushions but he realized that wasn't going to happen. So he listened and listened hard. And now...now he didn't know what to do. “Lorna I..." He looked down at his hands in his lap. "I don't know what to say...but I agree we need time...we both need time to heal and mend before we can even think of trying again..." He licked his lips and looked up, sincerely as he could. "But I do still love you...if that means anything..." Alex knew that sounded so pathetic after she had just poured out her heart to him but he really couldn't think of anything else. He looked down at his hands again, fidgeting in the awkward silence.
Lorna nodded mutely. She stood, holding the letter, hesitating. Finally she set it down on the table. “I have to go. I’m meeting with the caterers.” But she hesitated still, wanting to say more though she had nothing left to say.
Alex bit his lip as he looked at the letter in front of him but looked up at her when she said she had to go. "If it means anything...I hope everything works out for you. You deserve better as well..." Not really wanting, or more afraid, to hear what she had to say to that, he turned back to the TV and un-muted the game.
Just as well, because she didn’t know what to say to that and incredulous laughter seemed inappropriate. Instead she turn and walked out in a brisk stride that was just short of fleeing. She didn’t slow until she’d reached the garage and fumbled her way into the car. She was a bit late to her meeting but they were too polite to mention it or her red-rimmed eyes.
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Date: 2004-09-11 09:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-11 09:03 pm (UTC)