A/N: This was a really random little drabble, and I have no idea where it came from. This is one of my first, and I'd love some feedback :)! Thank you for reading it!
Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls is not mine.
They lived on memories. Once upon a time, they were meant to be together, when they were impulsive, excited. But the world changed, and they were no longer destiny. Their perfect had been lost and could not be found again, but they'd read too many books to let another opportunity evade them. They learned their lesson, only a couple of years too late.
Their second time around wasn't better, at least not at the beginning. They had all the scars of an old couple, yet none of the benefits. Neither knew the other anymore. She was still in love with a rebel, and he only really saw a sixteen year old saint. Adapting was never something they did quickly, but changing went even more slowly. And she wasn't perfect anymore, and he wasn't James Dean. They grew up, lost some of what they used to be. They could never love again like they had for those few months when all was a blur and fueled by fate, but they came close, damn close.
There were no bag boys or Porsches this time, only their own self destructive tendencies. They fought. A lot. But there was no one to blame now but themselves, and when they ran screaming in the rain the only thing that brought them back to one another was the memory of broken sprinklers. And it helped to blind them: ignorance had always been their bliss.
She never outgrew Stars Hollow, not really, and they'd almost gotten a divorce when she wanted to raise the baby there. He was always afraid of constraints, afraid of how he'd react to the claustrophobia. But she'd always had faith in him to be more, and old habits die hard, like nagging regrets. When he conceded to himself that raising them near family had been the right choice, he kept it too himself, but she knew. Old age had made her perceptive.
It was not a lie. No, it never a lie. But it wasn't really the truth, either. They were recreating something gone, like the lingering taste of dinner at night before bed. And at its best, they were basking in the glory of a memory, and proving everyone wrong.