I know, I should rather update "The End Of An Affair" than starting a new story. But unfortunately I don't really know right now where to go with that story and that got me a writers block. I do, however, have an idea for a new story in my head for some time now and I just decided today to post the prologue here. I don't know if you like it, just tell me the truth. Should I go on with it or not? Please tell me your honest opinion. For now, I don't think you need any further explanation to the story, it kind of explains itself and telling you to much would give away the plot. So just read and review, please.
Prologue
Rory Gilmore sat in a simply decorated living room and stared out of the window into the rainy night. The lights of Manhattan seemed to be far away and the sound of the cars driving along Fifth Avenue was something Rory didn't even notice. All she realized was the darkness of the night, all she heard was the sound of the rain against her window.
And each raindrop seemed like a tear to her. A tear she wasn't able to cry, even though all she could think of was crying like a rainstorm. But Rory didn't allow herself to shed even one single tear. It just didn't seem right to her. It had been her choice, she had made the decision for the life she had now. Allowing herself to cry would mean to admit that her choice had been wrong. And even though deep down in her heart Rory had known since the very first moment that she had made the wrong decision she wasn't ready to admit that to herself yet.
She had rejected him to have a life full of open doors. She had hurt the love of her life to keep her own opportunities. All the options had seemed so important to her, more important than being with the man she loved. After all she had been so young, only twenty-two. She had realized too late that rejecting him meant to close all the doors that offered happiness and a life that was worth living.
She had decided for her career and against love, a decision she should have known wasn't one a woman had to take, not anymore. And now here she was, a twenty-eight year old journalist at New York Times able to write about whatever she wanted. She had achieved what had always been her dream. And still, it meant absolutely nothing. It just didn't matter as long as she had to come home into an empty apartment, Without having someone to share her experiences of the day. With no one there who would hold her in lonely nights. Her success didn't mean anything without him.
The rain got even heavier, like a thousand tears falling down on the streets as Rory thought back to what had happened earlier that evening. She closed her eyes and saw his smirk as clear as if he stood right in front of her. She could still taste his lips on hers, feel the softness of his hands caressing her cheeks, and hear his sad voice mumbling a goodbye.
Part of her would always stand on this street in the rain, watching him go back inside. To the new life he had because she had rejected the life he had offered her. Part of her would always stand there, hoping for him to come back. But she knew he would never come back. That hope had died long ago and with it the part of Rory Gilmore that had been able to smile and truly, deeply mean it.