Just so you know, I don't own this.

Awakenings.

I remember the cold day in February that my life came to a dead halt. It wasn't as serene as that day in April when I tried to die. For that, I was calm as I wanted to wait for death to find me, but somewhere, out there somewhere was someone with different plans for me. I can't understand why I wasn't permitted to die gracefully that day by my own hand, why as it were, I had to come back from that quiet, comforting place. Why did I have to live, to be given a second chance to witness this?

I didn't feel the chill as I walked away into the dead of night, I could have flew, but I knew the walk would be cathartic. I was mad, mad, mad, mad; mad as I walked along that long highway looking for a place I could have a cup of coffee. I survived losing my children once, twice, more. Does it even matter? From somewhere, they always come back and I don't even get to see them as much as a mother's heart hopes.

I have no idea how far I walked, my own sweat starting to soak my sweater, but I never felt it. The flames engulfing my soul kept me warm that night and I can only imagine what I must have looked like. If any of the others knew about that night in February, they'd have thought we had both lost our minds. He, I'm sure would have lied his way out of any perceived wrongdoing, and I surely would have been committed, but you see, That was the night Scott chose her over me.

Sure, we played nice for appearances, just to keep harmony; but that night was the night I confronted him, questioned him and pulled it out of him. He loved her, not me. He said he wasn't ever sure he loved me. He had just been playing along just so he wouldn't hurt me.

That was the day that the air held no breath for me. That was the day that food held no taste for me. Worse, that was the day my husband held no love for me; I was a stranger in the house I tried desperately to make our home. I was thrown away, nothing but garbage to him. That was the day that not even the frozen ground beneath my feet gained my notice as it withheld it's stability from me and I had to find where in this world I had been flung.

My heart pounded painfully in my chest as I tried to breathe the breath that wouldn't come as I slunk to my knees questioning why, crying and in prayer. Finally, I stood up, weary and unwilling to beg Scott, Logan or anyone else to come and find where I had planned upon taking my frustrations out on the next pathetic soul to pass me by, I gathered the strength to telekinetically fly home and put my things in the guest room. I didn't beg and plead with him, that's beneath me.

I considered taking a lover myself, just to get back at him and even spent the rest of the night creating a dating profile, but I couldn't bring myself to his level, so I just waited. I waited for this fascination with her to pass, which it didn't. I found myself so full of raw emotion that I broke several of his things and put a hairline crack in his glasses so that when he goes to sleep with her, when he opens his eyes a few times, everyone will see. I'd expose his shame and make him pay. I'd humiliate him to the point he can't show his pretty face in public. I'd rip our wedding photos into confetti. I just wanted him to pay for everything he'd ever done to me.

I just wanted him to feel the way I did, but I gave him a second chance, a choice and his space. He'd claimed he changed after that. That he worried for me while I was gone. That moment led him to think.

I remember the hopeless weight placed on me that February night as I walked away. He was with her when I lay dying. He lied to me so much and I loved him so much, I just wanted to believe him. Of course, I never did believe him, I was much too intelligent for that, but I just didn't want my second chance to be a failure. A joke. Even a telepath can't truly make someone love them. As I knit myself together, I have to think, "Do I really want to be back?"