Maybe

Sung by: Kelly Clarkson

She opened her eyes, not remembering where she was or why she was there for a few terrifying moments. Soon, however, it all came back to her in a numbing rush. The paperwork, the parking, the separation, the leaving. He was gone; her dad, her family, off to pursue the wild rock-star dreams she'd made impossible.

I'm strong, but I break.

Shelley Marsh all but crawled out of bed, looking at the boxes still needing to be unpacked. Her eyes fell on one with tear-stained, splotchy black marker which read: FRAGILE. Suddenly, it was in her shaking hands, though she had no recollection of crossing the room. Slowly opening the cardboard, she caught sight of a picture at the very top.

I'm stubborn, and I make plenty of mistakes.

There they were. All of them looking like the family they once were; what they were still supposed to be. Mom and Dad of course were smiling, Stan looking at the camera with anxiety because of his sister's expression. Shelley seemed pissed as usual because she'd hated taking family pictures; really, she'd hated her family in general. That's why she'd dated guys that had been too old for her and had once met her Internet boyfriend in California. She'd thought if she acted out and dated those guys and abused her brother, then her parents would care about something other than their own petty arguments.

Yeah, I'm hard and life with me is never easy

To figure out, to love; I'm jaded but oh-so lovely.

Now though, she thought as her vision blurred and hot salt-water dripped onto the photo, she wanted thongs to go back to the way they were. When her dad would go off into these bouts of eccentrics and her mom would be there to help him back into their family structure. When Stan was carefree and brought his friends over to make fun of her braces-induced lisp, even though they knew she'd kill them for it. When Dad and Stan would get pissed off about Mom and her jokes about queefing and leave the dinner table.

Back to when they were the Marsh family of South Park, Colorado.

All you have to do is hold me it can be

And you'll know and you'll see

Just how sweet it can be

If you'll trust me, love me, let me, maybe, maybe.

But as the pictures seemed to fly from her too-tight grasp and shatter on the floor, she knew that though her parents had split up once before, they wouldn't be reconciling their differences this times=. There be no packing up and moving back to South Park.

There was no more Marsh family. And Shelley Kimble crawled back into bed.

Goddammit. She knew she still loved him. Knew she would always keep the last name Marsh because it was just as much a part of her now as it had been doodling the name on her high school notebook. But she couldn't keep lying to herself- they had different interests. That was only set more in concrete when he left without either one of the kids. He wanted to be a rock-star; she knew she had responsibilities to her kids as their mother. They'd grown too far apart.

Someday; when we're at the same place,

When we're on the same road-

There wasn't anything the lonely mother wanted more than to be held on the arms of her ex-husband and kiss and touch him. And she would readily run back to him if it weren't for his immaturity and irresponsibility he had for his actions.

They had been together it seemed for their entire lives; how could they be split apart for the second time in their marriage with no hope of being together ever again? How could he have left to pursue a music career that may not work out? How could he abandon them in their worst time of need…?

When it's okay to hold my hand,

Without feeling lost, without all the excuses.

Perhaps it was for the best; Shelley and Stan needed a father not a haphazardly thrown together bundle of inebriation and discontentment.

When it's just because you love me, you'll let me,

You need me, then maybe, maybe.

And she needed a husband not a rocker or a five-star chef.

All you have to do is hold me

And you'll know, and you'll see

Just how sweet it can be

If you'll trust me, love me, let me maybe, maybe….

But she wanted Randy Marsh, and she couldn't kid herself anymore; it was over and they both knew it. So she continued packing and ignored the teardrops staining the cardboard.

His heart wasn't in it tonight and it showed in the amount of tips they received from the audience. Even as his current band mates berating him and asking what was wrong, he found his thoughts to be elsewhere.

Sharon.

She'd been his first and only true flame; he'd known he would marry her since he had been nine or ten years old. Even if he hadn't shown her these past few turbulent years, even his music was less important to him than she was. It was why he'd given it up for her fourteen years ago.

I'm confusing as hell, I'm north and south

And I'll probably never have it all figured out.

But what I know is I wasn't meant to walk this road

Without you, and I promise I'll try.

He wasn't sure, though, why he was so unhappy with his average, mediocre life with his average, mediocre family; he loved them. He wanted to be with them now, but who was to say that Sharon and him would start another stupid fight about something that didn't matter.

Yeah, I'm gonna try to give you every little part of me;

Every single detail you missed with your eyes.

Then maybe, maybe, yeah maybe….

Maybe he should apologize to Sharon? Maybe he should tell her how much he missed and loved her and the kids? Maybe he should give up his ridiculous notions of fame even he knew he couldn't achieve- not at his age? Maybe he should confess to her how the dreams that haunted him at night were the ones in which she, and Shelley, and Stan grew old without him there and moved on with their own lives while he was stuck? Maybe he should say how often she filled his thoughts and disrupted his practices and performances?

Yeah, maybe, maybe, yeah, maybe, maybe….

Elated for the first time I weeks, Randy hurriedly dug out his cell phone and began to dial Sharon's number.

Everything would be fine. Everything would go back to normal; to the way it used to be.

One day we'll meet again and you'll need me;

You'll see me completely; every little bit.

"Hello?"

He heard his beloved's voice on the other end and suddenly froze. This would never work, what reason did she possibly have to believe him? To believe that everything would, or could be, different?

Oh yeah, maybe you'll love me, you'll love me then.

Randy hung up the phone.

I don't want to be tough

And I don't want to be proud.

He was lying down on the familiar bed in the unfamiliar room when he'd decided to amuse himself by memorizing tiny cracks in the ceiling- there wasn't anything more entertaining to do anyway. It amazed him that there were so many and yet the white plaster above him did not collapse, nor did it show any intention to. It was strange the cracks only seemed enormous after he'd noticed them- they'd almost invisible in the vast expanse of horizontal plane.

Thinking about it, however, made his head ache, so he settled onto his side and faced a window next to the bed. Hearing a few loud shouts of laughter, he found himself standing and looking out over the streets below with only the transparent sheet of glass between him and girls on the other side. There four, he noticed in bittersweet irony, and two in pink and one in green were locked in a playful battle in which the forever had stolen the other's hat, the latter trying desperately it back.

I don't need to be fixed

And I certainly don't need to be found- I'm not lost.

A smile tugged at his lips childishly to be exhibited on his hardened expression. He noticed one of the other two, dressed in yellow, was the one laughing the loudest and cheering the argument on. The last, dressed in shades of blue and purple, was attempting to verbally sedate the chaotic situation- it was enough to choke back the virtually silent chuckle that has just begun. It brought back to many heart-wrenching memories, but in a frustrating cliché, he found he couldn't turn from the scene playing out. So he watched as Green Girl 1 snatched her hat and berated a giggling Pink Girl 2. He watched as Green Girl marched in victory to Bluish-Purplish Girl, punching Girl 3, and proceeded to move the group onward. And he watched as they skipped out of his view down the street, mercilessly releasing his trance.

Returning to his bed, he slithered into the sheets and blankets and forced his eyes to shut. He ignored the previous scene mingling with not-far-enough flashbacks.

I need to be loved, I just need to be loved;

I just want to be loved by you.

And I won't stop 'cause I believe….

And Stan Marsh ignored the quickened pace in his chest and the all-too familiar wet feeling on his cheeks at the thought of his friends.

That maybe, yeah maybe, maybe, yeah maybe;

Maybe, maybe….

But then he remembered it was in the past, that they did not need, never mind want, to be around him. And he forced himself to forget.

Unknown from one to the other, both Randy and Sharon Marsh's thoughts were filled the other. Where were they now? What were they doing? Were they seeing someone? Perhaps it was better that they didn't know…?

I should know better than to touch the fire twice

But I'm thinking maybe, yeah, maybe you might-

As they simultaneous shut off their respective lights and questions, they each knew one thing for certain: they were much happier being unhappy together than they ever were apart.

Maybe, love, maybe…?