Something I wrote a while back and never posted 'cos it's kind of crap and short, but it's not like I've got anything else to post at the moment so I though...why the hell not, let's post this. It's not so much a story as it is a scene that could play out in any of our lives if you really think about it. At least the sentiment behind it (regret) is universal I think. Uhm...I'm actually making it sound a lot more deep and meaningful than it really is, sorry:)
I don't own SON, that would be Tom Lynch and The-N (who sucks by the way). Also I borrowed the lyrics from 'Death Cab For Cutie' and the song is 'I will follow you into the dark'.
Regret.
You get the news on a Tuesday morning while you're drinking coffee and chewing a piece of slightly burnt toast, Kyla's voice not even really registering in your ear as she babbles on. You're used to her babbling when she phones and you always block most of it out, but it's the name you haven't heard in years that catch your attention.
Spencer.
A small piece of toast goes down the wrong way and you choke slightly, hacking the offensive obstruction back up quickly and taking another sip of coffee.
"What about Spencer?"
The name tastes strange on your tongue, strange but familiar, like a treat you last had years ago as a child, flooding your chest with a curious warmth that you didn't expect after all these years. And it has been years, roughly twelve you decide, as you wait for Kyla to repeat the news about a girl you loved so very long ago. A girl you lost, because you were both young and ambitious and life just sometimes made it impossible to be together.
"I just asked if you heard the news?"
Kyla's voice is strangely strained, like she's trying to be cautious and careful, like she's bringing it up very much against her will and you frown, because you're over Spencer Carlin and she knows that, has known it for a good few years now.
Still, your chest tightens and there's nothing pleasant about the feeling as you sit there and let images of your first love wash over you. Fuzzy images of a blue eyed girl smiling shyly at you, her head tilted just so in the manner that always made you want to pull her close and hug her. You were never the hugging type until you met and subsequently fell in love with Spencer.
It finally brings a soft, reminiscent smile to your mouth.
"What news Kyla? You know I haven't seen or really spoken to Spencer in like...twelve years. Last time was probably when she left for college just before I started touring."
There's an awkward quiet on the line for a few seconds and you get a little lost in old memories again, remembering the day you said goodbye to her before she left for school. She had kissed you at the airport, long and hard and right in front of her mother, and you had laughed through the tears telling her you'd see each other again. Said it was fate, because you loved each other and you'd gone through so much and of course you'd get together during holidays and stuff.
You never did though. Life got in the way.
Now you're sitting in your kitchen, your coffee getting colder and your toast forgotten, as a more than faint feeling of regret builds inside of you. You're regretting forgetting the smell of her hair when you woke up and buried your face in it, regretting not making it home that first Christmas when she came home from school and you decided to rather play at a festival in Oregon of all places. Regretting forgetting the way she was the only person that ever cut through your bullshit, that understood you and loved you as much for your faults as anything else. You really regret just never picking up a phone and calling her when you realized you hadn't spoken to her in months, but then deciding it was probably for the best.
In that moment you realize just how much you missed Spencer Carlin, in not just her capacity as a lover, but as the best friend you ever had.
You wonder for a second if it's too late to casually run into her, or maybe give her a call and ask how she's doing, anything really to hear her voice again. You don't even care if she's gone and had one of those commitment ceremonies with some nice girl and had 2.3 well adjusted kids thanks to an anonymous sperm donor, you just want to see if it's possible to know Spencer again. To just have her in your life and call her your friend, because you're at that age where you finally know the value of things like that. The value of lovers and friends that really care about you and not just the things you offer.
So you find yourself really curious to hear the news about Spencer, really excited even at the prospect of being drawn back into her life even if it is just by a bit of gossip heard second hand from your sister. It's a start at least you think to yourself and you listen intently as Kyla's voice comes over the line.
"I ran into Glen of all people this morning at my new gym and he...he said they buried Spencer two months ago."
When your girlfriend comes home an hour later you're still sitting at the kitchen table, your cold coffee and burnt toast still resting in front of you, but there are steady tears streaming down your cheeks. You don't hear when she asks if you're okay, don't feel when she pulls you against her and rubs your back.
You're too lost remembering the night when you and Spencer snuck away from her mother's birthday party to sit in your car parked on that spot overlooking the city where Spencer had once told Aiden that she wasn't into labels either. She had been in your arms, just leaning back and resting quietly as you fiddled with the radio. You still remember the smile on her face as you found a song you liked and sang along softly with your mouth pressed close to her ear.
'Love of mine some day you will die No
blinding light or tunnels to gates of white If there's no one beside you
But
I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark
Just our hands
clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If heaven
and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the
no's on their vacancy signs
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark'
It had been a quiet promise that you'd made that night, being young and sure that your love was good and true, that you'd spend a lifetime together and that when the time came, you'd hold her hand and follow her.
Now you cried for that broken promise and for the girl you remembered, but mostly you cried because you were sure that there was a part of you that would always love Spencer Carlin best.
- - - - - - - - - - -
See? Short and crap, but I felt guilty about not posting in the last while. It's not my best and I should probably have tried to at least try and flesh it out, but I'm lazy and pretty tired and not all that inspired of late.
Still I'm not going to say I hate this ficlet completely, because I always have this bleak and probably accurate idea that this is how I'd learn the first person I ever loved died, you know? Like in passing from an old friend or something, long after the fact. Ugh, now I've actually depressed myself a little!
So yeah, review if you think I deserve it.