Hey guys, I'm not sure if this is any good or not. I wrote most of it at one in the morning. I swear I was planning to get to bed by midnight last night, but this idea wouldn't get out of my head. So I had to write it, just so I could get to sleep. It reflects a lot of my personality, a lot of my feelings, a lot of my passion. Chloe is just like me, I love my best friend, and unfortunately, he is going out with my best girl friend. So I'm hopeless, but that's good for you because it gives me inspiration. So enjoy the story.
I Still Needed Him
It was almost three AM and I hadn't even thought about sleep yet. Okay that was a lie, I'd thought about it, it just hadn't thought about me. I was feeling very neglected due to the fact that sleep hadn't visited me very much this past month.
So what had I done?
I'd grabbed the tub of Cookies 'n Cream and a spoon and settled into my sofa. Coffee was good for motivation, not self pity. So ice cream, well, any kind of chocolate really, had been what kept me company on these late nights, or early mornings, whichever you prefer. Chocolate and my journal.
My journal. That was such an inadequate description of the leather bound book I'd bought for myself many years ago. It was very plain looking, well not plain, luxurious actually, but still, not fancy.
And yet, it meant the world to me.
Why? This 'journal,' for lack of a better word, holds my soul. All of my thoughts, my hopes, my dreams, my heartbreak. A lot of the latter actually, not so much of the former.
When no one was there to listen, which was always, I could just write in my journal. I've always been able to express my feelings so exquisitely with words, and this journal was no exception. On occasion, I had considered publishing it, anonymously of course, it wouldn't do the world any good to find out what had gone on in the mind of Chloe Sullivan back in high school.
But I never threw it out. Because it helped remind me of what I had come from, the ashes I had risen out of, the hell I had overcome. Well, partially that anyway. Mostly, it reminded me of why my life had been hell, and why I'd decided to never let it be that way again.
It reminded me of Clark Kent.
Not that I needed any help remembering him. His face was plastered all over every newspaper, shown on every news station on the damn television, hell even I had written about Clark. Well, not Clark. Superman. But they were one in the same, even if only I knew it.
Yes I knew. I'd known since high school, but I'd chosen to keep his secret.
Damn me if I knew why I'd chosen to keep his secret. I was, after all, the best reporter in the state, perhaps the country, and everyone knew it. That included Clark. So why, when I had the biggest story of the century, did I finally let my reporter's instincts go? Why did I give up my endless pursuit of the truth in favor of more secrecy and lies?
I don't know.
Maybe because I'd decided that me knowing the truth was enough, not everyone needed to know. If Clark chose to carry around that burden, that was his choice.
I had enough to carry myself.
I shook my head, trying to rid my mind of those darker thoughts. Instead, I went back to my journal. I heaped one huge helping of ice cream into my mouth and cracked open the book to a well worn page.
I don't know why it was so well worn. I never actually searched for a specific event in my life to read about, I just always picked one at random. Somehow, however, I managed to land on this particular event at least once a week.
It was after Clark had rescued me from Justin. I'd come home and just curled up on my bed, this particular piece of my heart had taken me until five in the morning to finish.
Later down the road, I'd wondered if Lana had read it. Because I'd found out she'd said almost the exact same thing to Clark that I'd written. She'd almost voiced the part of my soul I'd uncovered and used as the first sentence in this section of my life.
Clark Kent, he's not always there when you want him, but he's always there when you need him.
Yup, I needed rescuing once again. This time from someone I thought I'd started to actually love, someone I actually trusted. Clark and I had fought over him. Boy does that sound weird. Me and Clark fighting, not that part, but the part about over a guy? Yeah that sounded weird.
Anyways.
How can something so odd become so familiar to me? The words 'Clark saved me' are now familiar as verbal words, or written words, or even typed words. It just doesn't sit right with me. And yet, there is nothing else I'd rather be familiar with saying, or writing, or typing.
Save, perhaps, the words 'Clark loves me.' And seeing as how that will never happen, I'll have to be content with Clark saving me.
He's just always there when I need him. But never when I want him.
Who am I kidding? I need him all the time, and I want him all the time. But that just isn't feasible, so I will settle for needing him when I actually need rescuing of some sort. This rescuing can only be physical and not emotional, seeing as how he has yet to save me from all this heartbreak.
The wanting though…the wanting will have to stay as it is.
So what do I do? What do I do now? So what if I'm saved, I'm alive, and I'm healthy. Well somewhat healthy, seeing as how I live on junkfood and coffee.
And with that humorous contradiction I will tell you, that my questions still remain. So Clark saved me? So what? Would it have been so bad if he hadn't? At least I wouldn't have to worry about everything anymore.
These are the thoughts I've been having lately. Despite the fact that Clark saved me, and held my hand, and the fact that I smiled back at him.
I tell myself that these thoughts are not mine. They belong to another, some other, weaker girl, who can't handle what life chose to dish out.
And yet, they are mine.
Something is wrong with me. Something is seriously wrong with me. I'm here, thinking like this, and the love of my life just held my hand today. What the hell is wrong with me damn it?
God, everything is just so unfair.
I can't even tell Clark how I feel. One, because I might ruin our friendship, the only thing I do share with Clark. Two, because he's in love with Lana. And three, because Lana is in love with him.
That last one is something most people don't know. Lana loves Whitney right? Wrong. She's with Whitney, but not because she loves him. She's with him because he's reliable, because she knows what to expect from him, because he's safe. But I see the longing looks she gives Clark when she thinks no one is watching.
So if I try to give myself some peace, I wreck my friendship with Clark, Clark's love, and Lana's love. They will both hate me and I will become even more of an outcast.
So, I am left without hope for change. I have no plan of action. Trying to stop loving Clark is out of the question.
I tried that.
It didn't work.
So I will have to deal. Like always. This is me, Chloe Sullivan, the concrete girl who has unimaginable strength. The girl who has coped without a mother because her mother didn't love her. The girl who has taken care of her father for so long. The girl who doesn't know if she's put her heart back together yet. The girl who is constantly on the verge of a breakdown, but just doesn't have the time or the energy to go through with one.
Clark has let me cry on his shoulder so many times. Not when he was the cause of the tears, but the few times that he wasn't. He's saved my life numerous times, and I'm sure he will many more times in the future.
He's always there when I need him.
Then there are the rest of the times. When I'm lonely, or sad, or stressed, or heartbroken. The times when I feel as if I can't get up to live another day. The nights when I seriously think everyone would be better off without me. The days that I have to pick up the shattered pieces of myself, and tell myself that I'm Chloe Sullivan, and I'm stronger than that.
He's not always there when I want him.
Is wanting the same as needing? I've been wondering that for awhile now.
Because when I want him…it feels like I need him. But it can't be the same, because I said I would only need him when I needed to be rescued.
So, what do I do? The same question that I've been asking myself all night, and I still don't know the damn answer.
I can't make up my mind. I could just leave things the way they are, and just suffer through the rest of high school until I can get away from him. But that could be a problem. I'm not sure what would happen to me if I did that. God knows I've already cried enough damn tears for Clark, and I'm sure I'll shed many more in the coming years.
But I can't keep going on like this, hopeless and distraught. I need purpose, I need direction. And wallowing in self pity won't help me accomplish anything. I have to do something about my situation.
So tonight, I decided to make a vow to myself. And you will be my one and only witness. You might think that this vow would consist of something like 'I vow to stop loving Clark Kent.' But I don't think that is possible. So instead my vow will be better, and I swear to myself, God, and you, that I will do this.
I will fulfill this vow or I will die trying.
I, Chloe Sullivan, vow to become strong enough so that I never need another person as long as I shall live.
I, Lois Lane, looked down at my handwriting, in my journal. I should have smiled, but somehow I just couldn't. So I shut the book, and got up to throw away the empty carton of ice cream.
When I got to the trash can, I hesitated. I stood there, staring at my journal. Could I throw it away? Could I just throw it away and be done with it for once? Could I give up what had driven me this far? What had given me the strength to keep going?
It was my past, it didn't mean anything. Right?
Wrong.
My past meant everything to me. My past was what had made me into what I was today. My past would forever mold me, change me, shape me. My past was all that I had. Without my past, I couldn't be sure I still had a future.
So I closed the trash can, without letting my journal fall into it. I went to my bed and curled up under the covers, placing my journal in its place underneath my pillow. I reached over to my lamp and turned off my light.
As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but want to cry. I felt the hot tears working their way to the surface. The lump in my throat was making its presence known, and my breathing became ragged.
God, my life still wasn't fair.
Here I was, the top reporter in the country, living my dream. But I lived in this apartment, all alone, and I still had no one to talk to. I was lonely, to the point of complete despair…
…and I had no one to blame but myself.
Here I was, ten years after writing those words, and they still haunted me. I was all alone, unhappy, and I still hadn't fulfilled my vow to myself.
Because I still needed someone.
I rolled over and looked at the picture on my nightstand. It was of Clark, all those years ago. When I'd first come to Smallville…before everything became so damn complicated…before my world went to hell. A single, hot tear made its way down my cheek.
I still needed him.
Reviews are much appreciated, I do live on them after all! Let me know if you want the sequel that I'm planning to do. There will probably even be a sequel to that, maybe this will be called the Need trilogy…hmm, gotta think!
What are you waiting for? Go review!