Whew…it's been so long since I wrote a fanfic!! But actually this one was lying in my drawer so I just typed it up & submitted it…can't be writing fanfics anymore!! School's super-hectic!! So sad I've not even been able to THINK of updating Ghosts Equal to BF-Stealers!!
Anyway…reviews mucho appreciated, like always
:)
xoxox
N
I wonder what my existence would be like if Susannah had not moved from Brooklyn to Carmel at all.
Perhaps I would have forever been stuck in my afterlife, my voice unused like it was before Susannah, only for an eternity.
Perhaps I would never have laughed ever again, or sung – of all songs – "Susannah, don't you cry for me…" or developed a (slight) taste for the 'punk rock' Susannah listens to. Although I still think the name 'My Chemical Romance' makes no sense for a band.
And of course, I wouldn't ever have learned the terms 'bit the dust' or 'hooked up'…haha.
Susannah. She is my second chance to life – literally. I owe her more than I could repay, ever. But she does not expect a thing in return, which is one of the myriad of things that makes my querida so special. Well, all right – maybe she does expect something in return. Me. But that serves only to make her even more special.
I will admit, I did not think highly of her when we first met. She was wearing – I vividly remember – a considerably formidable leather jacket. She had made me very angry when she had called me a cowboy. Then she tried to get rid of me, telling me she was in no mood to put up with a 'dead dude' living in her room.
But thank God I didn't obey her. Although my conscience hounded me at first for disrespecting a woman, and a supremely beautiful one, at that.
Months passed. We became good friends. I earned her favor by rescuing her from countless life-threatening situations, she earned mine by rescuing me from my long loneliness. We fell in love. We become each others' everything.
At first, my raging love for her enveloped me in a blanket of misery, reminding me time and again that I could never have a live human like her – especially a beautiful,
increíble one like Susannah. Surely, she could have whoever she wanted. What could she possibly see in me? I didn't even have a heartbeat! I was a dead spirit. A soul with no presence, save for a handful of people.
But when she told me that she did, in fact, want me, happiness hit me like an ocean wave. Jolting, pleasantly cool…unbelievable. But the misery of the fact that if we came together, I would be holding her back, making a negative effect on her life…that hit me like a tsunami. And the fact that Paul Slater, of all people, had rubbed this in my face, just made it even harder to digest.
But Susannah convinced me that being together was not wrong. I was hesitant. But over time, the guilt gradually dissolved into a feeling of pure joy and contentment. After a century and a half, I had finally been given a chance to true happiness.
Susannah and I passed the tests of love together, breezing through with flying colors, emerging stronger than ever with each conundrum. Uninvited efforts of seduction, seething ex-fiancées, serial killers, just plain angry ghosts, implications of the law of the cosmos…we survived it all.
Our relationship, though, was no petty bed of roses, even though the problems we faced were never phenomenally large. For instance, she insisted that there was nothing wrong with getting intimate before marriage. I disagreed, insisting that everything under the neck was absolutely off-limits between an unwedded couple. But at the same time, I made compromises for her too. After all, love is all about two partners molding themselves to live in harmony.
Susannah is my destiny. And for that, I thank God.