A/N: Please review! If you like it, I will continue. I know it starts out a little on the boring side, but hopefully the idea of it is semi-interesting. I really love the Sam/Quinn pairing, and I hate what is currently going on with Quinn/Finn on the show. But I digress. Anyway, hope you like what I have so far.
OH! Before I forget, I am aware that Dani05 (/~Dani05) has started writing a Sam/Quinn story where I believe Quinn is a wedding planner? Feel free to correct me if I am wrong. Anyway, since that idea is similar to my own, I sent Dani05 a few PMs about posting my own story, wanting to make sure she knew that I did not in any way attempt to copy or use her idea, and in fact was not even aware of the existence of her story before I began writing my own. So, know that this story is completely my own work, and is not affiliated with Dani05 or her story or ideas.
Thank you!
Also, I don't own any characters, or the show Glee.
You know that moment, the one right before your first kiss as husband and wife, or the exchanging of rings, or the one right before you start down the aisle on your father's arm, the one where you know you're part of something bigger?
I do. I know that moment better than anyone. Not because it has happened to me, but because I make a living capturing it. I kind of hate my job. Somehow it always just feels… cheap. I don't know why. I guess it's just that I take pictures, right? And selling them to people is always like selling them proof that at one point, they were a part of something real. And they were happy.
And when they get that proof, it'll get put in an album somewhere, maybe displayed, but maybe not, and fifty percent of the time will end up in a box somewhere in someone's attic after the divorce. And then maybe, a few years later, I'll get a call from that same bride or groom, asking me to take pictures for them at another wedding. Because they remember how beautiful the photos were the first time, and now they'd do anything to get that happiness back.
Before you get the wrong idea, I'm not just a cynic. I mean, I still believe in love. It's just that I've seen it fall apart enough times to know that maybe there's happiness in those moments, but there's always some underlying feeling that will find its way out. And before long, the only thing that photo will be is just a photo. It won't mean anything. And it will only make you look back in regret that you didn't think things through or attempt to settle your differences before getting hitched.
But then, I guess it doesn't really matter that I feel this way, since I get paid for my photos and not my opinions. Either way, I can't really be one to talk about love, since I ran away from the only true love I've ever really experienced.
When I was in high school, (I know, I know, those are not promising words to begin a story about true love) I fell head over heels in love with a boy. And he was in love with me too. We went out for a while, and I was happier than I've ever been. I could completely be myself around him; I had nothing to hide, and I liked it that way. But it also scared me.
You see, I was afraid to put myself into the hands of someone else. I trusted Sam (that was his name, Sam,) completely—more than I've ever trusted anyone before. But yet, I wasn't ready. I'd loved and lost before, and even then I had never made myself as vulnerable as I had with Sam. He had enough of me to break my heart, and I was so afraid he would.
So I beat him to it. I broke my own heart, and I broke his too. We went from the most perfect couple you've ever seen to less than acquaintances in a matter of days. I knew he wouldn't forgive me for what I did, and I can't say I blame him. I know I only have myself to blame. But do I regret what I've done? Maybe. I can't decide. My only hope is that I gave him a chance to find true happiness, to find someone out there who would give him everything he deserved and more.
I truly loved Sam. It killed me to let him go, and it kills me still. But if he's happy now, then I'm happy. Because sometimes, the only way to truly love someone is to let them go.