Lips Of An Angel - Hinder watch?v=QEYbn9m74OA
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Lips Of An Angel
11:24pm
Your phone rings. It's that ringtone that you set years ago.
It hasn't rung that tune in a while and you don't know why it would be now.
You've done so well to get over that part of your life, to move on from it. It's been a work in progress… for the last 2 years. And for it to be ringing now baffles you.
You second guess it. You just stare at the screen. It's probably just a pocket dial.
You answer anyway.
You don't say anything, you just listen.
"…Hello? San, are you there?"
You hold your silence.
It's the first time you've heard her voice since Mr Schue's wedding 2 years ago.
"Brittany," You sigh, "It's late."
It's quiet for a long time and your brow creases when a shaky sigh permeates through the ear piece.
"I know, San. I just…" It's quiet, but you hear it. You hear her sniff and it stings you right in the heart. "I just wanted to talk to you."
You don't know what to say. It's been 2 long years since she told you to move on and now that you have, suddenly she calls you out of the blue. Your eyes squeeze shut tightly as you try to shake the confused emotions swimming inside.
And you hear it. She snivels once more, twice again, a third time. The sound of her poorly muffled whimpers make your own eyes prickle and you just can't…
You don't want to be feeling that sting in your heart anymore. You don't want to be tearing up at the sound of her crying. You don't want to be worrying about her happiness and what you can do to make her feel better.
It all hurts too much. Because you think you still might….
You whisper softly, "Brittany, hey, what's wrong?" Silence. "Look, I can't really talk, my… My girlfrie-."
Her sobs come out choked and unrestrained then and you feel your heart clench painfully. You sit in silence, just listening to her cry and you fight hard to hold in your own tears. You sit and you patiently wait until finally she calms.
You decide to humour her, if only for a while.
"H-how are you, Brittany?"
You ask her about college and about dance. You ask about her parents and her sister. You ask about Sugar and you ask about Marley and you hope that she's kept in touch with them because you didn't and while you don't regret it, you do miss them a lot. You miss her family too.
She tells you she got into college. She says that she really loves it. She's majoring in photography and your heart soars. You always knew she could do it. It almost killed you, come graduation time in senior year, when she told you she wouldn't be walking across that stage with you.
And you blamed yourself for that.
What with all of your 'coming out' dramas and your hunger for the spotlight that you so desperately desired and never got when you were in New Directions, thus creating your own glee club all together. Your want for fame… All of this was for you and she was always right there behind you. The focus was on you. All of her attention was on you. So much of her was put into making sure you got what you wanted, that along the way you both had forgotten about her.
So yeah, you blame yourself for her not graduating.
You're surprised though when she says she's here, in New York.
"New York School of Visual Arts, San." She tells you. You choke on the air in your lungs.
Because she's here. In New York.
"I also got accepted into NYU and Julliard for dance. And the same place as Mike too. And UCLA, like Mercedes," You feel your whole body simmer with pride with each college she lists, "But you know…" She trails off slightly. Your brow furrows. You don't know. You say as much.
"You know, San." She starts. "Dancing is fun, and I love it. But that's not what I who I want to be. Like, dancing… yeah you're doing the moves and it's inspiring and it's beautiful and you look beautiful doing it. But…"
"But, what?"
"But they're someone else's beautiful moves. Do you know how hard it is to get a job as a choreographer? It takes years to get to show your perception of grace or anger or, or… love."
You cringe. She doesn't give you time to say anything.
"You're showing people someone else's idea of beauty. I want to show the world what I think on my own terms. I want to show everyone what I think grace and anger and especially what love is to me. I want to show the world my beauty." She finishes. And to say you're proud of her at this point is an understatement. There are no appropriate words you can string together to say how you feel.
"You do already." You whisper.
"Not like that." She echoes back just as softly.
You sit in silence for a while, content just to hear each other's light breathing over the phone line. It's familiar and it's beautiful. And it hurts painfully so. You hear shuffling in the room next door and you know your girlfriend is moving around in her office, the tell-tale sound of a cabinet door sliding shut tells you just that and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand.
Guilt. Like you're cheating.
Funny thing is you don't know exactly who you feel like you're cheating on here.
You squeeze your eyes shut once more and clear your throat. You tell her how happy you are for her. You tell her how you always dreamed she'd make it. Not just out of Lima, but out here, in the real world. You knew she would be successful.
You tell her how you dreamed of a smaller version of her, just the other day, and how this pint sized Brittany looked exactly like her with her long blonde hair, lithe frame, perfect smile, smooth creamy skin with a healthy dose of freckles. She was also leaping and bounding and twirling like I imagine Brittany used to when she first learned ballet.
She lets out a quite giggle and tells you you're describing a 6 year old her. Your laugh matches hers, almost.
You finish retelling your dream though. You tell her how, yes, pint size Brittany was indeed the exact same as her 6 year old former self. That is except for the deep brown eyes. The thick curls. The long dark lashes. And the nasty habit of spitting out furious Spanish curses and sentences at anything and everything.
You smile so large when you hear her full laughter floating into your ear. Your dimples make an appearance for the first time in a long time. You can't help but giggle at her silliness.
You ask her, "What's so funny?"
This brings on a whole new wave of giggles and you can't help but whine at her. Eventually she calms down enough.
"San, you just described our child." A few leftover giggles escape.
I feel my whole body freeze over. Because…
Our child.
Our child.
Ours.
She seems to notice her slip up too and suddenly the tension returns. You sigh. She sighs. Silence follows.
x
You don't want to know if she's still with him. You've been putting off this thought throughout the phone call, and if you're being honest with yourself, you've been putting it off for the past 2 years.
And over that time, you've done all you can to avoid any type of interaction with the couple. No Facebook, no emails or texts, you only went back to Lima for family things and you refused to talk to anyone other than Rachel and Kurt until finally you felt like you had moved on.
You've been ignoring that thought, and you really don't want to ask but you know you have to.
"Does… Does Sam know you're talking to me?" You ask and it's so awkward that you stumble through the words. She knows what you're really asking though.
You hear her sharp intake of breath and you don't know what it means.
"I-… He-… No."
"Oh. Uhm, well I… I don't want you to get in trouble so you better go-."
"I broke up with him." She interrupts.
You heart leaps out of your chest at the same time it sinks low into your stomach. "W-what?"
She sighs. "I broke up with him."
You ask her when.
"Before graduation. A little before all of my acceptance letters came." She whispers.
You don't realise you're crying until your sniffling into your clenched fist.
"Oh." You reply with fragmented breath.
This is the moment you've been wishing for, praying for, for over 2 years. And finally it's there. And this is the moment you should be celebrating, and rejoicing and asking to meet her asap because she's here in New York and this has been your home for the last 2 years now but…
But...
"Does your gir-… Does she know you're talking to me?" Her voice squeaks in that way that I know she's holding in tears.
It makes mine flow faster.
"She doesn't have a clue." You whisper.
For 2 years you'd been wishing she'd say those words to you. 2 years you'd waited for her to ring you, turn up on your doorstep and say…
'I'm here. I'm yours. You're mine. I love you.'
2 years.
And now here, she tells you that she left him over 18 months ago and you know that you're happy about it. You're actually fucking ecstatic. But you also know that you're so broken inside, so afraid of being rejected again. And because of this a loud sob spills past your lips, followed by a chain of whimpers.
"Britt…" you cry.
"I know, San."
The sound of her sadness breaks your heart again and again and you feel your face raw with the amount of tears that you're crying.
"So many times I wish she was you, Britt…"
"I'm so sorry, Santana, "She cries, "I'm so, so sorry." She repeats over and over like a mantra. It's evident to you now, that she yearns for you in the same way you do her.
"Santana…."
You sniff, "You don't know how good it is to hear you say my name again, Brittany." You admit through your tears.
She tells you that she does, that she knows exactly how good it is.
"Is this goodbye?"
You cover the mouth piece with your hand as a particularly violent sob wracks your body entirely. Is this goodbye? Do you want this to be goodbye? Are you ever going to say goodbye?
Did you ever really move on?
No.
Never.
You tell her so.
"I never want to say goodbye, Britt. But…"
"I know, baby."
Your breath hitches at the term. It sounds so sweet. And you know you're never going to say goodbye to her. And you know you want to hear her call you that again.
And again.
"You make it hard to be faithful, B."
"The feeling has always been mutual, San."
You smile ever so slightly, so weakly.
You both come down from your emotional highs and bask in the content silence. You don't know what will come of this, or what you want to come of this.
You just….
12:16am
"Britt… Honey, why're you calling me so late?"
She chuckles, more to herself you think.
"Because, I'm still in love with you, San." She whispers.
Hate it or love it.
Cheers, big ears!