Author's Note: So I've been in a kinda depressed mood lately-but I've been in a writing mood as well. So, I guess this came because of it. It's not really meant to be depressing, or sad for that matter. Anyway, it's from Lorelai's POV, set sometime after season six. Therefore, the marriage, paris and him (I don't hate him, but really, I can't bare to say his name right now) didn't reallt happen-anything after the season finale, anyway.

ay, it is post-finale and everything...hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything. Unfortunately.

I never was one for organgizing, really. If anything, I liked clutter better. But, sitting alone at home, I had to do something. Stars Hollow had grown quiet within the past few days, and I hadn't gone out much. I'd gone to the Inn, even to Doose's once. Other than that, I spent my time at home. It was all I could do. Rory came for the weekend, but left saying that there was some big seminar at Yale she had to go to.

I'm sitting on the couch, watching reruns of a show i'm not even that interested in when it hits me-I should clean. Looking over at Paul Anka, who is sleeping soundly in his chair, I make my way upstairs. The closet-yeah, I'm not gonna brave that one yet. Instead, I find my way to the bedroom. I can't help but be distracted, thinking of what happened. I stare down at my ringless finger, feeling a pang of guilt for what happened just two weeks before.

Kneeling down before the bed, I find the stumbled mess of shoes, dog toys and socks. I never thought about it-Paul Anka being able to fit under the bed, but apparently that tennis ball that he loved was. When that was done, I stared at the bedroom closet defiantly-I wasn't sure what I would find. My 'cleaning spree' was interrupted by the phone ringing. "Hello?"

"Hi Mom."

"Rory, Hi...what are you doing?"I asked, happy for the distraction.

"Right now I'm studying. There's a test tomorrow, but I'm coming back next weekend. If that's okay."

"Oh, of course, sweets. I'm cleaning. Apparently-you remember how I told you Paul Anka lost his tennis ball. Well, I found it-"

"You found it. Where?"Rory asked, clearly paticipating for my benefit.

"Under the bed. It's a wonder the things you can find under there. Anyway, I'm going on a cleaning spree apparently, because there's nothing to do. But never fear. I know, your room is off limits. I haven't braved the closet yet, though. Do you think I shoud?"I ask, knowing she probably doesn't care either way.

"I don't know, mom. It depends. What makes you want to clean, anyway?"She asked.

"Mmm, good question. I'll let you know if I find the answer."

"Okay. Well, Mom...Ooh, hey I have to go. Logan's calling. I love you, mom."

"Love you, too."I say. "Bye."

I hang up the phone, sitting at the foot of the bed. What was I thinking? It's like-nine thirty at night, I can't sleep, there's nothing good on TV, so I clean. A few months ago, I wouldn't be doing this. Of course, a few months ago things were different. I was engaged to Luke, I was actually happy and -more importantly...well, I can't think about it. Don't ask me why, because I've cried too much about it. Knowing that what I did quite possibly killed the only real relationship I had and ever will is just a little too much to take.

Opening the door to the closet, I take a deep breath. Truth time. There's still a few things in here I haven't worn in a while, right? I might as well pick them out. Not that I'll ever have a garage sale or anything, because God knows my mother would frown on that. It's too...small town. I pull out a pair of jeans and, taking them off the hanger, I wonder when the last time I wore them was. It's not that they're the wrong size but they have a hole in the knee. It's not big, in fact it's quite the opposite, but still-it's there. It's noticeable. I find a shirt that I love that I swear I have been looking for for ages and until now, I haven't been able to find.

If I had a chance of having a date anytime soon, I'd leave it out. I'd probably wash and dry it in hope of it looking normal again. Instead, I put it back on its hanger to sit back in the closet. I'm not stupid-there's no chance I'd have a date anytime soon.

There's so much stuff in this closet that I haven't seen in a while-a pair of boots, a tennis racket (you know, not that I play tennis or anything), and-I feel something. It's at the end of the closet, pushed back towards the wall but-pulling it out into the light, I recognize it as a sweater I had worn. Luke had said he liked it-Christopher said he hated it. One if the big differences between the two, I guess.

Sookie says I should stop worrying, that someone will come along eventually. But see, I don't want to wait until eventually, and I don't want "someone". I want the one, and for the longest time I thought that Luke was the one. Of course, he hid his daughter from me, jumped at the chance to say no, and then slept with a man he hated. In some ways, I feel like I barely know myself anymore. When did it become so complicated-when did the lines become so blurred?

Taking a step back, I realize that maybe cleaning isn't such a good idea. For a minute, I think that taking a shower and putting on some pajamas to pop some pocorn would be a good idea. But then, I see it. A box, nothing special. Strangely, though, I can't recall seeing it before. So I take it off of the shelf, paying close attention to the box sitting next to it. Setting it on my bed, I sit down, feeling my curiousity grow.

That is, until I open it. With a shaky hand, I pull the object out, holding it close to me. I can't believe I still have it, that I actually thought to keep it. It's a flannel I had for Luke-I bought it on a trip I was on, thinking I'd give it to him for his birthday, or as a part of his wedding present-not that he needed another one, of course. But this one was different. It's-I don't know. It's a mix of red and blue, but on one of the pockets, it has an 'L'-it struck me so off guard, I wasn't expecting it, and apparently it was because of the brand. But it made sense.

L-for Luke. For Lorelai. For-why am I doing this? Why can't I just let it go? I need air. I need-something. Anything than just sitting there in a room full of memories.

Somewhere along the way I decided to take a walk. A walk-at almost ten o'clock at night. Yeah, it's crazy, but I can't bring myself to sleep, and there's nothing else to do in the house but sit. I hate sitting. I look up to find the gazebo. I guess somewhere along the way, my distracted feet led me to the town square. Walking up the stairs, I freeze. I can't be here. I just-I can't. Tired, I sit down on the steps, burying my head in my hands.

When did my life become so complicated? I'm not a depressd person. I'm known for being the exact opposite, in fact. According to what Sook told me, anyway. I find the good, the happy in everything. But I can't find anything happy in this. In feeling miserable, I don't know if I should feel bad for myself, or try and find a way out.

Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've had coffee? Seriously, I made some the other day, and I don't know what it was. It didn't taste right. It just-it burned my tongue. It tasted burnt.

Lost in my thoughts, I know I should go home. I should take a shower, go to sleep and forget that anything happened. Forget-that's the hard part. I can't forget. Christopher literally won't stop calling asking me if I'm alright, and Luke-I haven't talked to him. I can't. Going into the diner would mean seeing Luke, and I can't. I can't see Luke, I can't see that look in his eyes. You know that look people get-one mixed with longing, sadness and disappointment all at the same time? Yeah, that one.

Instead, I sit on the steps on the gazebo, praying for peace. Praying for some sort of end, some sort of relief. Feeling a hand on my shoulder, I jump and look up, startled. Expecting a sleepwalking Kirk, or a nosy Babbette, I instead find Luke. It takes a minute to register. Luke. Staring at me. I'm...crying?

"Lorelai?"

I close my eyes upon hearing my name, all of the times he's said it before flashing in my mind.

"Are you..okay?"He asks as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I force myself to look back up at him, my head feeling heavier than usual. "I don't know. I can't sleep."

"Oh. Well, I was about to go to bed...but I realized I didn't lock the door. So then I...I came down and I saw someone sitting..."He stops, for the first time truly staring at my face. "Are you okay? Really?"

Shaking my head, I let out a laugh. "Why?"

Luke shrugs, acting for once like he truly cares. "Because you...you're Lorelai. You don't-"

"Cry in public? Believe me, I know."I said, laughing nervousily. Standing, I walk into the gazebo and sit down. I wince when I do, realizing that it's considered an invitation to talk. My breath hitches when I see him sit down next to me.

"You're not okay."He says, staring into my eyes. He's trying to read me, I can tell.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I shake my head. "No. But I'll deal. Really, it's okay..Luke."I say, finding his name hard to mutter.

Luke sighs, struggling harder than normal to find the right words. "I should have told you."He said, startling me for the second time in five minutes.

"What?"I say, my voice scratchy.

Looking away from me, I can tell Luke is nervous, but that he seems different. Almost like he's rehearsed this whole thing before. "I just...I should have said something. I should have told you...about April. About everything. You're a great mother, you know and you coulda...you coulda...helped me, I guess?"He says flatly, knowing that I'm listening.

A silence settles between us, me not knowing how to reply, and Luke not knowing what else to say. Finally finding my voice, I clear my throat. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"He manages to ask.

"Everything. For not asking...for pushing you for...sleep-"

"Lorelai...don't-"

"How do you ever expect us to get past it if we don't talk about it?"I spit out, surprising even myself.

He looks stunned almost, clearly not expecting it. "You mean you...actually wanna get past it?"

I nod, smiling sadly. "I miss the coffee."I say, knowing it'll get to him.

"Oh. Of course."He says, his eyes darting away.

"What?...Luke...You're not-"

"No, I get it."

"No, you don't. I don't...I don't see you as the guy who pours my coffee. Well, who used to pour my coffee. I see you as..."I stop, not knowing what to say.

Luke is silent, waiting for me to finish. "What's that?"He says, pointing to the thing in my hand.

Laughing, I lift it up. I didn't realize until then, but there, clutched in my hand, was the flannel I found. "Oh...Um...it was for you. You know, before-"

"What if...what if we try again?"He asks, staring at me.

I can't find words. He's there-I'm there. But I can't find the right words. It's like I'm frozen though, thankfully, I'm not cold. Because that would only make things harder. Apparently my eyes say something, because slowly, he leans into me, and it's not long before he's kissing me.

My heart jumps, a breath caught somewhere in my chest. Luke. Me. Kissing. It's so...sudden. So...unexpected.

When he pulls back, he has a look in his eyes, one I haven't seen before.

"Luke..."

He closes his eyes, sighing. I know he's in pain, too. I can sense it.

Coughing, Luke looks over at the diner. "So uh...you're down here. We got a new shipment this morning. Want some coffee?"

I smile, shrugging. It's not much. an invitation for coffee. But it feels right-something I haven't felt lately. I pull up the flannel for him to see. "Okay. But really...take it. Please?"

He smiles. Luke smiles. It's enough to make my heart stop. "Come on-"He says. "Let's go."