5:30 a.m.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The hands on the furry alarm clock rotate slowly like the thoughts in my head. It's quiet and a little disconcerting to be utterly alone with thoughts. Thoughts and feelings swirl aimlessly in my head as I watch the hands rotate slowly.

I have a vague memory that I should be somewhere, but it's of no consequence now. The only place I want to be is alone in my room, in my head. That's where it happens. The memories swirl around and around like their own personal Groundhog Day.

"I think we should take a break," he said. His voice was clear, confident, but his eyes betrayed him. The silvery blue eyes I'd come to know so well were wounded and terrified at the same time.

"You don't mean that," I tried to dissuade him.

"Yes," he said slowly and deliberately. "I do."

"Luke, you can't-"

"I do Lorelai," Luke cut me off. "I mean it when I say I think we should spend some time apart."

"For how long?" I asked trying not to crumble, trying to play it cool.

"I don't know," he replied. "I just have to think about things. Everything has been so…it's not what I thought it would be."

"What isn't what you thought it would be?" I asked naively.

"Us, together," Luke struggled. "I need time to figure it out."

"Fine," I snapped at him in order to keep the tears away. "It's probably a good thing. This…whatever this was, it was taking up too much of time anyway."

"Well then it sounds like this is a good idea," Luke said gruffly.

"It's a great idea," I said haughtily. "I should have thought of it myself."

"Fine," he mumbled. I could tell by the look on his face that he knew my routine. He knew my false sense of confidence. He knew he was devastating me. But he also knew that I wouldn't let him see it on my face or hear it in my voice.

I stomped out of the diner and ran home. I've been lying in bed ever since. I haven't gone downstairs. I haven't left my bed. I've holed up like Howard Hughes and I don't intend to leave until Luke comes to get me.

Pathetic isn't it? Who would've ever thought I'd go to pieces over a man? Surely not me. I've been independent my entire life and now look at me. I'm a ball of emotional wreckage wrapped in flannel. Of course I'm wearing Luke's flannel shirt. Unlike Rory, I couldn't come home and start a Luke box. The sad fact is I like his things here. I liked coming home to see his flannel shirt draped over the chair in my room. I liked seeing Bert sitting watch on my kitchen counter.

Most of all I like that the shirt I'm wearing still smells like him. It's a mixture of coffee and spice and it's comforting. I find it especially poetic that the shirt that connects me to Luke is now nothing more than an oversized handkerchief for my tears.

5:45 a.m.
The reaction to the break was quick and visceral. I allowed myself to maintain my composure until I got home and then reality hit. I don't remember how long I cried or when I stopped. I just know that one minute I was crying and now I'm watching the hands tick by on my clock. It's 5:45 a.m. and Luke is just getting up. Normally he'd roll over absently and reach for me. Sleepily I'd snuggle next to him, my head cuddled gently in the crook of his neck. He'd place a light kiss on my head and run his hand lightly through my hair before he got out of bed. I wonder if he'll do that today. I wonder if he'll notice I'm not there.

I twirl my hair absently as I go over events in my head. I remember the good times at Sniffy's. I remember buying Luke's boat. Most of all I remember the skating rink Luke built for me.

"Hey," I smiled brightly as I opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you hated snow," he said.

"Miss Patty?" I asked.

"Who else?" he asked coming inside.

"Well between getting knocked over by the Banyan boys when we went skating on the lake, getting snowed in and having to sleep at my mother's and not getting to see you because of it I think my hatred of snow is valid," I explained.

"Put your coat on," Luke said.

"Why?" I asked.

"I have a surprise for you," Luke replied mysteriously.

"A surprise?" I asked excitedly. "Is it bigger than a bread box?"

"Yes," Luke smiled. He had a smile on his face that gave me a glimpse of what childhood Luke must have been like. He was excited like a boy on Christmas morning and that made me happy.

"Why do I get a surprise?" I pressed.

"You restored my faith in memories by buying my dad's boat so now I get to return the favor," Luke said as he walked over to the closet.

"What does that mean?" I asked pulling on my coat.

"You've lost your faith in snow and I'm here to restore it," Luke said.

"Oh yeah, how's that?" I asked slipping on my boots. "What are you looking for?"

Luke was rummaging through the hall closet until he emerged with my ice skates.

"Come on," he said smiling brightly as he pulled me up off the couch.

Luke took my hand and pulled me outside where I saw an ice rink that he'd built in my front yard. I couldn't believe my eyes at first. Luke had always done elaborate things for me. From shoveling my walk each winter to carving me a chuppah, he was never at a loss for overt gestures.

"Is that what I think it is?" I asked.

"If you think it's a skating rink then you'd be right," Luke replied.

"You built me a skating rink my front yard," I said incredulously.

"I didn't want those Banyan boys to have another go at you," Luke smiled.

"I can't believe you did this," I said. "Luke this amazing. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said shyly.

I can still see his face. Although Luke was always helpful and attentive, it was almost as if he was bashful about praise or compliments. That was the moment. I can still pinpoint it. I was looking at his face looking at me, reluctantly accepting my thanks and that's when I first wanted to tell him. I wanted to say "I love you," but I didn't. Instead I smiled and looked away, suddenly nervous about the way I was feeling.

I'm not sure why it took me by surprise. I was dating Luke, it was obviously going to come to some sort of logical conclusion. I'd always loved Luke, but that was the first time I realized I was in love with Luke. The psychological difference isn't a big deal, but it's there.

6:15 a.m.
It's 6:15 a.m. and I've suddenly realized I can't breathe. My chest feels tight and I think I might never catch my breath. I feel like I can never leave eat, laugh, live, or, most importantly, drink coffee again.

I never thought it would be like this. Luke and I have fought. Luke can hold a grudge just as well as I can. I remember not speaking after Jess and Rory's car accident. That was an estrangement of an entire summer. Had it felt like this? I don't remember. I can't believe it did because back then I wasn't in love with Luke. Back then he was just my friend, my buddy, my coffee supplier. Now he's my best friend, my lover, my partner in crime, my sounding board, my future.

That's the hardest part. I finally realized that I do want the white wedding with horse drawn carriage and maybe even the damn Romanov flowers. I've finally got to the point where I can see that in my future and suddenly it's all slipping away. It's slipping away because I want it. It's slipping away because the Romanov wedding is what my mother wanted. It's slipping away because of my mother.

"I don't fit in here," Luke said watching a tray of $100 caviar travel by.

"Don't worry, not many do, the Sultan of Brunei being the only possible exception," I tried to joke.

Luke looked up and gave a small laugh. "You're probably right about that."

"What's wrong?" I asked. I hated seeing him so grouchy.

"Nothing, I just really don't fit in here," he said again. "I feel everyone is staring at me. Suddenly I'm Waldo without the stupid hat and glasses and everyone has found me hiding behind the beautiful woman."

"That's not true," I said.

"Of course it is. They're probably all thinking it," Luke said. "Your mother hates me."

"Luke, that isn't true. She doesn't hate you," I told him.

"Maybe not hate, but there's nothing about me that woman likes," Luke said.

"Well there isn't much about me she likes either," I replied. "We can start a club, but I get to be president so I can hold the gavel."

My humor was suddenly very much lost on him. He seemed distant and quiet and the rest of the evening, the fight with Christopher, didn't help. And 12 hours later it was over. Luke and I were on a break.

6:30 a.m.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The hands on the furry alarm clock rotate slowly like the thoughts in my head. Thoughts and feelings swirl aimlessly in my head as I watch the hands rotate slowly wonder how long this can last.

TBC