August 30, 2004
A/N: ok, my first Gilmore Girls fic, and I haven't seen an episode in a while, so forgive me if my facts are wrong.
And I know that a writer is not supposed to cure blockage in one story by writing another, but this just kind of beat me over the head, and my muses took control of my body and wrote it, and now here it is. (so if its better than the crap I usually write, don't tell my muses, they are bigheaded enough as it is) runs away from insulted muses carrying crowbars
Perfect
I have always been seen as the good girl, and everyone who knows me will tell you that I love it; I relished the proud way my grandmother would show me off to her friends. I adored the way my mom was always telling me I would never have any problems getting into collage, that I'd be able to go anywhere in life. I loved studying into the wee hours of the morning and going to Chilton and getting praise from my teachers for all of the hard work I was doing. Most of all, I loved the feelings of control that I got, walking in a straight line from one end of my life to another, never looking around and getting distracted from my goals.
But they don't know how hard it is to be perfect. I am constantly rushing around and trying to do as much as possible, so I'm too distracted to feel. When I don't have something to do, I think about the drunk drivers on the news, and the young hoodlums raping poor innocent girls. I worry about the inn my mom's trying to establish and my dad and Sherry, and everyone I care about. Sometimes I have dreams about seeing them on the news, and I always have to call my mom after I wake up, to make sure that everything's ok. I lie awake and wonder why I feel like such a failure, why I cant live up to the Gilmore expectations, and why everything seems to go so wrong. Sometimes I wonder where these thoughts come from, but mostly I just sit and try to figure out how I got to this point in my life; from Chilton schoolgirl, highest in the class, to stupid collage freshmen, unable to cope with anything going on in my life. Some days I feel like I cant get out of bed, but I know I have to. If I don't do the work and put in the hours and keep busy and make sure I am perfect, everything will just fall apart.
When Dean and I started talking, he was like an anchor, keeping me here, and suddenly things didn't seem so bad. I could just talk to him, about all the scary stuff that goes on, and having to drop a class and the other stuff that worries me. He just sits there and lets me talk, offers comfort when I need it.
I know Dean is married. I know that I gave him up, but when we made love, I felt something click and it wasn't just my cherry popping. I felt like I had finally found something I had been missing for a long time, and things seemed alright; for the first time in years, I didn't wake up worrying about zillions of things all over the place, instead I was only worried about a few million things. I sound ridiculous, but he really helps soothe me, and gives me fuzzy feelings and everything. I am not about to let that go.
I may be the 'other woman' as my mom coins it, but when I am in his arms, I don't have to strive to be perfect. To him, I already am.
A/N: Reviewing will give you long life and eternal youth...er...unless of course you don't want those things, than it gives you whatever it is you do want. (valid only if I get more than 10 reviews)