We sat in silence. I could feel my heart racing and I kept shifting my teeth nervously as I bit the inside of my cheek. I saw her move her feet under her seat as she went to put her flats back on. Even in such a simple gesture her moves were graceful and beautiful.
She took a nearly inaudible sigh, grabbed her keys out of her lap and put them in the ignition. The car roared to life and I saw the surroundings of the parking lot begin to slowly pass me by.
I was slumped over the passenger's seat and it was then that I realized that I didn't have my seat belt on. I imagined the possibility of getting into an accident and could feel myself inwardly smiling at the thought. Although slightly morbid, I desperately wanted to feel something other than this numbness, even if it was physical pain; I knew in my heart it's what I deserved.
The car stopped abruptly as a car cut us off. My body jerked forward and out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of blonde whip in my direction. Still out of my peripheral I saw her baby blues dart towards the bottom of my seat to the empty seat belt holder. I knew she wasn't aware that I didn't have it on and just as I heard her begin, "San," I reached around to buckle up. She didn't continue her thought; I made it easy on both of us. She wouldn't have to say anything unless it was absolutely necessary.
We drove for five minutes and the silence was crushing. It was suffocating and I began to feel dizzy. I could feel myself drowning in it when something pulled me back to life.
"What are you thinking about?"
It caught me off-guard and I immediately answered with, "Nothing."
"It's silent, so you must be thinking about something," she stated. It wasn't an accusation - it was merely a fact. She was prepared for the lie; she already knew I had put my walls up. But that didn't stop her from trying to let herself in – again. She was practically begging me to make things right; she needed me to explain myself.
It was one of the reasons I loved her. She spoke her mind freely and stated things as they were: simple. People who called Brittany dumb just didn't understand how she saw the world. To her, everything was simple. We all complicate the simplest matters, but Brittany doesn't do that. She speaks her mind and she does it without inhibitions. She knows people think the same things as her but are too afraid of voicing them to others.
So, instead of dropping it, she spoke her mind - dropping all the complications.
I gazed out of my window and stared at the cars in front of me as the light turned red. "I don't know," I stated. I watched the cars slow in front of us. It was a short light. It turned green and we began to move again. I took in a deep breath, "I feel like shit." That's all I could manage to say; I didn't know where to begin to explain myself and I hoped that it would be enough.
The car enveloped me in silence.
I guess it wasn't enough.
We continued to drive like that and I replayed every single wrong I had ever done against her. I felt the fury and pain build up inside of my chest. I had caused her so much pain and her persistent silence had convinced me that I had broken her. She was the other half of my heart, and in the process of breaking her I was slowly breaking myself.
I closed my eyes and thought back to 15 minutes earlier before the whole world had gone to shit.
"Santana, please say something," She stared into my eyes and I tried my hardest not to let her blues shake my resolve.
"I can't do this, Brittany. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I'm not ready. I'm not like you. I can't just march into school and announce that I'm the newest lesbian at McKinley, fully equipped with a rainbow flag and golf team uniform." I crossed my arms and decided to stop looking her directly in the eyes. I saw every new word I spoke etch pain across her face. I couldn't stand being the cause of that pain. Yes, avoiding eye contact was better for both of us.
"San, you know I'm not asking you to do something silly like that. But this is something that we need to deal with - something that you need to deal with. It hurts me that we have to be a secret, but I know that it's hurting you more that you have to be a secret."
Her statement struck a chord within me. It was so accurate that it made me resent all the assholes out there that attributed her eccentric behaviour as stupid. She was so far from it, and in that moment it almost made me resent her for using her wisdom to wake me up to reality. So I did what I do best and lashed out.
"Brittany, you don't know what the hell you're talking about." My voice held so much contempt and I was glad that my eyes didn't reach hers because I could sense her flinching at my words. But I was too upset at that point. Her words struck too close to home and it awoke something inside of me. It was getting harder for me. I wanted to be with her so badly, and I hated pretending we were just best friends, but the weight of pretending to be straight was becoming unbearable as well. I knew she was right, but I was angry with her for pushing me when I wasn't ready.
She remained silent, and before I could stop myself I continued, "What did you really expect from me? You pushed me so hard to figure all of this" I motioned my hand between us "out and then when I finally poured out my feelings, you shot me down. What was that about, huh? Should I have been expecting rejection? Because I was expecting everything but that, since someone had once told me that 'with feelings it's better'" I used air quotes and dripped my voice with sarcasm, shooting her words right back in her face. Inside I was screaming at myself for speaking to her this way, but I couldn't stop myself. I was too far beyond rational at this point. I needed to get it out. I needed to let it all out.
She was still speechless so I took that as an invitation to continue with my rant, "And what did you really want me to do once you and Artie were through? Was I supposed to be OK with being your second choice? Because Santana Lopez is no one's sloppy seconds." I took a deep breath and finally brought myself to look into her eyes. Something inside of me needed her to see me. She needed to see all the pain I was feeling so she would understand that none of what I was saying was true. She needed to know that I was lashing out and once again putting up another wall. Everything my words were conveying, I needed my eyes to show the contradiction. I needed her to understand so badly that I was lying straight to her face, and I needed her to know that I was doing this because I was scared. If she could see my lie, she would understand that I knew she was right but I just couldn't admit it right now.
"I know I hurt you by not being your prom date, but you nearly tore my heart out of my chest and threw it in the trash that day by the lockers. It was too much for me; everything all became too much for me. I had just realized this new person that was hiding inside of me my whole life and you just wanted to throw that information out to the world. You make everything seem so simple, but it's not!" I was shouting by this point and I willed myself not to let the tears pooling in my eyes to fall down my cheeks. "You think anything is possible, Britt? Well, guess what? It's not. You're wrong and you've never been so wrong in your entire life. We are never going to go anywhere if you don't just back the hell off!"
Another lie. I felt too emotionally drained to continue. I was breathing heavy by this point and I could feel that my cheeks were flushed.
I knew my last line was too much; I had gone too far. I never tore my eyes away from hers because I needed her to see the chink in my armour. She needed to use that to see past my walls and see my words for what they were: lies. I hardly allowed myself to blink, allowing her access to my soul.
I never did this – I never allowed myself to be vulnerable. But I needed her to see me. I began to panic because she had yet to say something to me. In fact, she still hadn't moved. She was still staring deep in my eyes and I kept my eyes trained on hers. I could see something working in there; she was processing.
'Come on, baby, I need you to understand this,' I thought to myself. 'I need you to understand all the things that I'm too afraid to say. Be strong for me, Britt, because I'm not brave enough without you.' I wished that I could say my thoughts out loud. I wish my walls weren't so high that I could just speak freely. I know she would understand, but I spent so much of my life building them that I knew no other way to function.
I saw something spark in her eyes. I waited for her to say something. It only took me a split-second, but I recognized what it was: pain, heart-ache, disappointment.
She had misunderstood.
My walls were so high that even staring into the depths of my soul she couldn't reach it. She couldn't push past them and see the truth. She misunderstood and I had fucked everything up. I wanted to take it all back. I wanted to tell her that I was afraid and I didn't mean any of it and she was actually right about everything, that she's always right about everything. She's my world and I can't imagine my life without her.
Just as I was about to open my mouth she broke our gaze and turned her body to face the front of the car.
"I should be getting home," she barely whispered. I didn't answer – all I could manage was a stifled sigh.
I fucked it up. I was always fucking it up.
None of this was right. I needed comfort and reassurance; I needed the strength to gain the confidence to do right by her. I closed my eyes again and I immediately envisioned us laying in her bed, with my head buried in the crook of her neck. My left leg was bent around her hips and my arm was hooked around her waist. My body was slowly rising and falling with her chest. That was where I felt safest. That was where I was calm. That was where I could gain the courage to take on the world.
I opened my eyes. The rush of silence and pain hit me all at once, like a dense fog threatening to blind me of sight. I tried to close my eyes and envision us again but it was getting harder to see it in my mind. I could almost feel the softness of her skin as I grazed my lips against her neck. Almost.
I opened my eyes.
We were so far from that now.
That was when I shed my first tear.
They didn't hesitate to come rushing out after that. I sat there, cocking my neck further towards the window to shield my face from her. I was ashamed. She was the one who had something to cry about, not me. I let the tears come but took in steady, silent breaths; she couldn't know that I was crying over this. I had spent years building all of these walls and if I let them crumble and break so easily then all the pain I had caused her would have been for nothing.
But somewhere deep down I knew that she knew. She knew me better than anyone else. Even though she may not have heard me – and that was a small possibility because the tears had increased and my breaths more ragged – I knew that she would be able to sense it. She knew it in my body language. The shift in my breathing or the way my hands slightly trembled. I hoped against hopes that these things were hidden to her as I crouched further against the window, praying that she was too focused on the road ahead to notice me falling apart at the seams.
I kept replaying the scene of us laying together in my head. I wanted that comfort. I wanted to feel safe. I was aching to feel her touch. I wanted her to reach across the console and grab my hand. It was another thing of comfort for me. If we were driving and one of us were upset, we would silently reach for the other's hand. It immediately calmed us down. We would give each other a tight squeeze and it melted away our problems. Her thumb rubbing against the back of my hand would wash away all of my worries, one stroke at a time. When we could sense the other was feeling better, we would detach to just join at our pinkies. It wasn't a separation - it was our way of letting the other know that the pain has passed and we got through it together.
But I didn't want that. I needed her whole hand. All five fingers roped with mine. I needed to feel her skin and have those strokes telling me that everything was going to be OK.
She needed to grab my hand. I couldn't reach across to grab hers – I wasn't brave enough for that. There was too much left unsaid between us. She needed to initiate it because I was the one who needed the comfort right now. Those were our rules.
My crying was becoming noticeable now and I could almost feel her touch against my hand. I waited for her to grab my hand. My heart was racing and I kept imagining us laying in bed. I needed her hand intertwined with mine. She needed to grab my hand.
Why wasn't she grabbing my hand?
My vision was blurred and I could feel my chest tighten. I didn't know how much longer I could try to hold myself together without fully breaking down.
She needed to hear my breaths and realize that I was crying so she could reach for my hand.
Godammit, Brittany, grab my hand!
I wanted to say something. I wanted to look over at her and demand she pull over so I could take her face in my hands and crash our lips together. I needed to tell her everything I've ever kept inside and use my tongue to apologize for everything I've ever done. She needed to feel my salty tears against her cheek, telling her a story of a girl who is afraid. A girl who is messing everything up because she doesn't know how to be strong for the one person she loves. The tears will scream the story of a girl who is a coward.
But I couldn't do that to her. It's not fair and would mess everything up even further.
Why hasn't she realized that I was crying by now? She needs to grab my fucking hand!
And then it hit me: she did know I was crying. I thought back to a moment ago when that feeling deep down was telling me that she knew me better than anyone else.
I knew that she would be able to sense it.
I mulled over my own thought. Brittany knew me better than I knew myself. She always was able to sense when I was upset. Even if she couldn't hear me, I had silently admitted to myself moments ago that she would be able to just know that I was crying.
The realization hit me like a train: she did know I was crying and she was choosing not to comfort me.
That was the moment when I lost it. My tears continued to pour and I found it harder to breathe without making a scene. I felt the weight grow heavier on my chest and I felt my lungs collapsing onto themselves. I closed my eyes tight and all I could see was our bodies lying together on her bed and it made me cry harder.
This was the moment I realized that we were done.
Brittany had always been there for me, even after all of the shit I had put her through. But now, in this moment, she sat there less than a foot away from me and allowed me to cry. She knew I was hurting and she remained passive. No hand-hold. No words. No comfort.
The whole revelation felt like a dull knife carving into my heart. Every cut reminded me that we were like this because of me. It was my fault we had gotten to this point. She had always been brave for the both of us, even after I continued to push her away. Now, I had pushed too far – she was too far out of reach. I had been so focused on my own strife that I took her for granted. I ignored her pain and suffering because I knew that she would always be there in the end, cheering me on and lessening my hurt.
But I was wrong.
I took a chance to turn my head and glance at her out of the corner of my eyes. Everything about her screamed 'exhausted'. This was her breaking point, and it was all because of me. It was in this moment that I realized that I wouldn't be enough. Our love wouldn't pull us through because I was making everything too difficult.
And it was in this moment that I realized that soon enough, she would stop loving me.
The third realization of our short drive hit me like a train again, and the pain was no easier the third time.
If I kept up like this, we were both going to end up hurt in the end. I could see our story pan out bitterly in my head. She would cling onto the hope that I would change, and I would continue to disappoint her. I would continue to put my guard up, and she would drain all of her energy continuously tearing the walls down. She'd lose her brightness and begin to resent me. In the end, I would ruin her and she would eventually walk away.
But when I realized she was choosing not to comfort me I knew that she wasn't going to stick around to see our happily never after. She was skipping all the way to the end of our story.
I wanted to hurl myself out of the car. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I wanted to apologize and beg her to forgive me and tell her that I'll try harder. I'll stop pushing her away and start opening up. I knew I still wasn't ready to tell the school, but maybe we could tell a few kids from Glee Club. Baby steps - I could take baby steps. If they took it well, maybe it would give me courage. I knew it wasn't for sure, but I was willing to try anything.
But none of the words came out. All I could do was continue to fall apart in the passenger seat.
We drove for ten more minutes before pulling into a gas station.
She pulled up beside a pump and turned the car off. I tried to hold my breath because now the sound of the engine wouldn't be drowning out my sobs.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and I stiffened. "Hey..." she began and tapped lightly again. I turned towards her and before I could stop myself I launched myself into her embrace.
This wasn't how we worked. The person needing comforting didn't initiate comfort; we always waited for the stronger one to grab our hand or give a hug. It was all part of our comforting ritual; we knew that the comforter needed to be the strong one, the one to initiate the contact to demonstrate that we were there for the other person. But I needed this. I was tired of waiting. I was tired of fighting my feelings to stop the inevitable. In a split second I stopped listening to all of the rules and started breaking them.
I finally let myself cry. I had been crying the whole car ride, but this was really crying. All the shaky breaths, heart-breaking sobs and gut-wrenching screams. I drenched her hair with my tears and clenched my fingers into her skin. I was scared to let go. As if letting her go in that moment would let her go forever. I breathed her in as if it was the last thing I would smell for the rest of my life. Everything about our embrace screamed urgency and desperation. I was clinging onto her like my life depended on it. I needed her to know that I never meant any of the things I said earlier; I never meant any of the other lies I had told her repeatedly throughout our relationship.
I felt her arms tighten around me and I cried harder. I had so much I wanted to say but my ragged sobs prevented me from saying anything coherent. She pressed her lips against my ear and whispered, "I love you, San. I'll always love you."
I'll always love you.
My heart stopped. It was like she knew, as if she had been inside my head the whole car ride. Without knowing it, she had said the words I was dying to hear. I needed that reassurance. I needed to know that she was still going to be there even though I was fucking it all up.
I was being insecure – she wasn't going to stop loving me. She has a right to be tired of all of this; I've been too exhausting on her. I needed to learn to give her a break. So if she wouldn't be able to be the strong one to comfort me all the time, then that was something I needed to deal with. She had been sacrificing so much for me, I needed to learn to make sacrifices, too. We couldn't continue our old patterns and rituals; I needed to learn to adjust to the change in our relationship. We were changing all the rules as we went along and I was only now realizing it.
That makes realization number four for tonight.
But this was something I needed; this was the wake-up call that Brittany had been trying to give me the whole time. I couldn't lose her. I needed to make an effort to keep her, but she needed to understand that this was something I needed time with. I would make her understand how important it is, and now I had faith that she would stick by me through it.
I took a deep breath and whispered into her ear, "I love you, too, Britt. I love you, too. Always."
She slowly loosened her grip so she could shift to look me in the eyes. She brought her hand up and delicately cupped my cheek, smoothing away my tears. I stared at her blues and I could see the understanding slowly dawn upon her. All of my lies were coming to the surface; all of my walls were broken down for her.
She let a smile slowly creep onto her lips and said, "I know you do, San. I've always known that."
And with that, I knew that we would eventually get through everything. I didn't know how long it would take and it was still going to be difficult for both of us, but I knew we would have our happy ending.
Because Brittany was right – with our love, anything was possible.
This is my first piece of fan fiction, so I would appreciate any of your reviews :) thank you