AN:An AU, personalised descriptive piece from Callie's POV, positioned not long into the beginning of her and Arizona's relationship. Please excuse my randomness with this one (I know, I have Part Two of Raising A Child to complete – it's half complete, I swear!) but this is a ramble that found itself written without a lot of intent…well, see the AN at the end. Lol.
Oh, and is screwing up the uploads, I think I've corrected the formatting errors, but sorry if I missed some. Grrr! It seems very frustrating at the moment this site!
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Tonight, I drank a few glasses of a 2004 Cabinet Merlot. Perfectly aged for a blend that can be minimally cellared. I raised my glass in the darkness and made a toast – a toast to the blessings in disguise.
My chest still feels tight and my stomach is nauseous. I'm not hungry, yet I'm starving. I'm not tired but I'm so incredibly exhausted. This day brings horrid memories. Not because I haven't moved on; no. This anguish makes me feel human; makes me feel. If I can't have the pain, then how shall I recognise the fluttering of cheer. How would I melt at her smile if I hadn't once fallen to the floor with helplessness? So many places hold witness of my distress; the corner of the kitchen, my ensuite shower and the pillow that I still favour.
I spent this afternoon running on the treadmill to songs that took me further back. Took me somewhere that was just an illusion; not better, just a fantasy. Some lyrics tugged at my memory, tried to convince me that I was something to you, but I wasn't. I was nothing.
How easy it was for you to walk away from no one who is nothing.
You and your infidelity; at the time was nothing short of devastating. You took my heart, my trust, my commitment and you discarded it, like it was nothing. Like I was nothing; disposable.
I wanted, for so long, to disappear. I thought; I felt like, I was a failure. My marriage and future was a façade. Did you know how much that I wanted a child? Do you know that tears tumbled down my cheeks each month that my prayers went unanswered?
Did you know that I was pregnant once? Did you know that I held a growing embryo in my uterus for ten short weeks? At a time, when you were walking away, I held the only good thing that we ever made together. The only positive to ever come out of our marriage was held deep inside me. What an ironic parallel it all ended with - the cells stagnated. The heartbeat that I heard, that I cherished, it didn't last.
I carried the emptiness in my womb like I carried the decaying remnants of our vows. Empty promises. So much more, just desperately absent of life.
How I wish that I hated you then.
But I didn't.
You were clever that way. You stomped on my heart and still, I was so void of hate.
You deserved my revulsion but somehow, my abhorrence was self-directed. It felt like I was broken and there were pieces missing. For so long, I was this crumbled mess; shards of glass that had no hope of reconstruction. I could recreate bone but me; I could barely breathe.
And I'm back together again now, but I'm not whole. Still exposed. The vulnerable pieces are visible and unprotected. I hate that. I hate that I allowed you to break me; that I couldn't rebuild myself to what I was before, before you.
Yet, there's something bittersweet. In the trauma, lies growth. Hope. A promise of something better, something new.
The vulnerability allowed me to open myself to her. She isn't perfect; I'm not perfect. Together, we're so very flawed. The blemishes have never filled me with such courage and prospect. She accepts my inadequacies and embraces my absent pieces; she fills the gaps.
Where my life has faulted, she shadows and protects me. Together, we're something more than we are apart.
Where you broke me, more than I ever imagined I could be desecrated; she painted tiny pictures of sunlight; beams of light tiptoeing, so careful of frightening me away.
And when she holds my hand, in the moment it's so much more than enough.
My history isn't erased; it never is. The broken parts are integral to me now; they bare the aspects of me that were missing for so long. Confidence is a curse and unrelenting independence is for fools. I was so naïve to think that I could ever just rely on myself; that the only person I could ever trust was in the mirror. I tried to trust you, I did; I gave you everything I had at that time. Yet, you couldn't do it, you were my choice but you were a poor one. You were anything but trustworthy, anything at all except truly dependable.
She is more than enough though.
Everything you weren't, she is.
Three glasses and I've almost forgotten my failure. The divorce papers that are evidence of my disastrous mistake are lying at the bottom of a box at the back of the cupboard in the spare room. A baby book is in the same box and fleetingly, I wish that I still had the scans. That I hadn't tore at them with my anguish and discarded them, like you rejected me for something and someone, you perceived as better. At the time, having nothing was better than holding proof of the possibility that was torn away from me. If I didn't hold it in my hand than it wouldn't hurt as much.
So suddenly, there's a hint at joy. Did I just remember and feel a quivering in my chest? She asked me, only last night – what is your greatest memory?
Hearing the heartbeat of my growing baby. And I told her; with a racing heart, I can't even believe that I uttered the words that I had feared. I had been frightened that the sky would fall in, that I would dissolve and disappear again, if I remembered. But it didn't; I didn't. And she didn't drift away either, herblue eyes crystal clear and intent on me. Kissing my temple and holding my hand; words were superfluous.
For so long, I hated the very thought of what I lost. Of everything that vanished at one time; consecutive and shattering losses. But now, it's different.
A slight smile crosses my face.
She tightens her hold on me, dream lines sporadic. I curl in, mould my body and relax.
Tears trickle down my cheeks. Slow, simple. Crying, yet not distressed.
I mourn still, for what I lost. The marriage that was nothing more than a veneer of something that it never was. The multiplying cells that held promises of dancing toes and high-pitched laughter; college applications and postcards from corners of the globe.
Yesterday is gone.
The arms of the present, I succumb to. Today isn't so short of stunningly beautiful; in it's own phenomenal result of a formidably disguised blessing.
I am finally happy.
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AN:I've never been great with anniversaries, good things and crappy things, actually! And today isn't such a great day, so I wrote this and then reread it multiple times. Closed the laptop, cooked dinner, had another glass and reread it a few more times for good measure. Then I figured, well, maybe other people are having crappy days too. And since, I'm finally enjoying moving forward, maybe there's some hope to offer to others. Maybe not to. :-) But hey, why not?
Reviews and messages are welcomed. And I am sorry for the slightly chaotic feel to the piece, when are thoughts and emotions not chaotic though? :-) If they're not for you, I so want your processing style! *grin*