Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls. If I did I would erase this entire season and most of last season. There would be Lorelai and Luke sex in every episode, and Christopher would probably be dead. :D
The Power to Be
I could never understand what led me to this conclusion. I just feel so cold. So lonely. Like I've finally realized how far in the wrong direction I've come, and suddenly the trek back seems too far to handle.
I used to be so happy. I was comfortable, and I was just a few months away from finally having it all. The whole package. The husband, the kids, the career, the love of all of those things separately and together. I can't explain what happened to mess that up.
I never though it would go this far. I never expected to be that woman on the precipice ready to jump. In fact, I never expected to be the fourty year old single and desperate woman I have become. It's not that I haven't had opportunities. In fact, I've had many more than my fair share of those. I've been through boyfriend after boyfriend, fiancée after fiancée, and now after my failed marriage to a man who never was my fiancée I feel utterly pathetic.
I'm breaking down. I can feel my insides twisting out of shape and turning me into a foreign person. Someone other then the woman I have been. Someone who I don't like and don't want to have as a part of me. What happens to a person when they have completely lost who they are in a matter of months?
My thoughts return to him. The one man I truly regret losing. It wasn't entirely my fault, of course. I mean, it was, mostly, but in the end he just would let me in. Being the person I am, I needed to be let in. But to have him back, and to be whole again as that person, I would take the secrets and accept them.
I never wanted to settle, but for that life back, I would.
I never expected to have my own daughter as someone I envied, but that's how it seems to be these days. She's grown into a beautiful, vibrant young woman with the world at her fingertips, and a beautiful, strong young man by her side. She in love and accepts that fact. She's happily moving forward, not struggling against the current to keep everything the same. She's a smart girl. A smart woman. She is someone I can barely recognize as my own daughter. How could I? I don't even recognize myself.
I step to the edge and look down. It is only about twenty-five feel to the ground, but it is a rocky, ragged cliff. If I were to jump now I have no doubt that I could end all of this. I hear some rustling behind me, but focus m attention on the task at hand. It wont get better. It can't. I've destroyed too much for it to be reconciled at this point.
I decide to take the leap. I take a slow step to the edge and put my arms out to my sides, taking a deep breath of the fresh woodsy air. I begin to fall forward, but hit something sooner then I had expected. I knocked the wind out of me, and I am dragged backwards away from the drop. Idly, I reach out for the cliff, for the ending of my misery, but the arms around my midsection stay firm as they hold me tight to eh hard body with the deep, recognizable scent.
As I gain my breath back I try to move. The arms still hold me tightly.
"Let go," I demand softly, fighting back the bursts of emotion rising in my chest. The hands continue to hold me as I lay loosely against him. I feel the tears begin to break free as I sob. I turn in the arms and drop my face into his broad chest, letting out the months of misery. His arms tighten around me, and I feel his light sobs as I rest against his chest. Slowly, after what seems like an eternity, I pull away. He hesitated to let go, but finally he does. He dries his face with his sleeve before brushing away my tears with his large hands.
"How did you know?" I ask. He sighs and leans back against a tree.
"I saw you go into the woods. You looked upset," he answers hoarsely. He looks at me, a silent desperation apparent in his eyes. I think briefly that I have never felt so guilty, but push the though away. He continues to look at me. He looks as though his mind is filled with words, and questions, and sadness, and anger that he just can't let out. "Why?" was all he could ask, his voice cracking.
'Why', that was a big question, one I'm not sure how to answer. In amongst all of the pain and sadness of the past several months I know what brought me to this point, but 'why' is an entirely different story. Why am I so pathetic? Why am I so self destructive? Why do I want to abandon my life, and with it my daughter and all hopes for a future happiness? 'Why' is a question I can't answer.
Yet he stares at me, for what seems like an immensely long time, just waiting for a response. Finally I find my voice.
"I'm weak," I said softly. Luke shakes his head, not satisfied with that response.
"No, Lorelai. You're not weak," he puts his hand on my cheek. I can't help but lean into it. "You're strong. You're so strong. How could you do this being so strong?" his voice seems to plead with me. With the old me. The person who I used to be who never would have found herself in such a sad, pathetic situation. I sigh heavily, suddenly feeling like I have too much air in my lings, as though if I sucked in any more I would burst. The feeling doesn't leave me.
"How did I get here?" I ask softly, not really intending to say the words aloud. Luke just looks at me, sensing that 'm not expecting an answer from him. He always could sense those things about me. He's always known everything about me.
But he doesn't know me. Not this me. He knows the old Lorelai. He loved the old Lorelai, at least for a time. But now. Now I can't make it to work without trying to hurl myself off a cliff. That isn't the woman he loved.
"Why did you catch me?" I ask after a long while. He looks at me with an incredulous expression. Was it really such an odd question?
"Why would you ask me that?" he asks, the look of disbelief not leaving his sad face. He looks old. He looks as though he's seen too much, and been through far too much, and it has aged him. I briefly wonder if this is what I look like to people.
"Why you do it?" I ask again, choosing to ignore his question. He sighs and his shoulders sink.
"I couldn't let you drop," he responds.
"But why? Why'd you follow me here. Why do you care if I'm sad, or dead, or upset?" I know I'm being insensitive. I know I shouldn't put him on the spot, but all of the questions rush out before I can process them. He doesn't look surprised to hear them, and for a moment I doubt he will answer, but he surprises me.
"Would you stop me?" he asks softly, hopefully. I divert my gaze to my hands. Of course I would. Anyone would. He's Luke. I nod in response. He sighed audibly, and looks even sadder. "I know we aren't together anymore," he says, stopping for a moment, as if to readjust to that fact. "But I still care about you. I'd still do anything, five anything for you. I always have. That hasn't changed."
I'm surprised by his confession. I care, but after having slept with Chris, I never could have imagined that he would too.
"Everything is falling apart, Luke," I say, startling myself with my sudden willingness to let him in. He stays silent, as if urging me to continue. I take a moment and gather my thoughts before doing so. "it's not losing Chris that hurts. I got through that. I did it just find, unlike other breakups,": his eyes flash with sadness as I say this.
"The inn is fine. Rory is fine. You, from what I can tell, are fine. But I am so not fine. I'm not. I'm sad, and lonely. I feel like a stranger in my own home. Looking around at all of the familiar things, with all of the familiar memories, it doesn't feel like I was a part of them. I feel this new, sad, lonely, depressed person just moved in uninvited and hast taken over. And today—it was just the accumulation of everything that has happened in the past year. I've reached my breaking point. I can't take anymore pain," I finish abruptly. Suddenly, I have no more words. This was the most I've said in weeks, and I'm spent. Luke looks at the ground, then to me, and back at the ground. I feel like I wasted my words for a moment, but then he surprises me. He takes my hand in his much large on, and squeezes it.
"You're right, Lorelai. This isn't you. None of it. You are a strong, beautiful, vibrant woman, not this sad, depressed blob of a person who tried to kill herself just because things aren't going as planned.' I feel the sting of the words, but choose not to fight back. The fight is all gone. "Please come back with me," he asks. His voice is hoarse. He sound like his throat is terribly dry. I hesitate momentarily, wondering if I should give up and continue on with my task. Seeing the longing and sadness in his eyes compels me to comply, however. For a moment I feel like the old Lorelai, unwilling to let this man stay in a suspended state of pain. I nod silently, and can't help but smile when his eyes light up.
He stands. He's so tall. I feel like a child sitting at his feet. He reached his hand out to me and I take it. I fully intended to stand, but my legs don't feel as though they would support me. In a swift motion I am pulled to my feet, and he pulls me to his body, steadying me. I am still unsure I can walk, but he places his hand around my wait, giving me a strength I hadn't had just moments ago.
As we begin to slowly trek back to the town, he stops abruptly, turning to me. I look in his eyes and see pain mixed with something else. Hope? Maybe. Comfort, definitely, and my own heart starts to melt. How could I, the old Lorelai, have walked away from this man?
"Please never do this again," he asked. He seems overridden with emotion. I swallow back the lump in my throat, which is becoming sore. I nod my agreement. He continued to stare at me. "Promise," He sounds close to heard now. I don't know how I brought him to this point.
"I promise," I whisper. I said it before I thought about it, but now that I have, I know it's true. This moment of weakness is just that: a moment. Hopefully, and I really do hope, this man in front of me can help me bring back the old Lorelai, the one I can feel peeking through in this moment. He seems skeptical for a moment, but then turns back to the town and we continue our walk. His hand is still around my waist.
I'm the one who stops this time. The question in my mind wont allow me to keep moving until they are satiated. He turned to me. I can tell he Is worried that I've changed my mind. I smile lightly, but still sadly, in reassurance. I can feel his tensed muscles ease.
"I'm not okay, Luke." I begin softly, gathering my words. He looks sad about that statement," But I want to be," I continue. He seems happy about that.
"I want you to be happy," he says, almost in a whisper. I smile, a real one, but my heart is still aching.
"I don't want to put you on the spot here, because you certainly don't owe me anything," he seems unsatisfied with that. I continue," but I can't do this alone, Luke. At the very least I need you as a friend." I feel as thought I'm asking too much of his. After all we've put each other through, me, more so than him, what right do I have to ask him to have anything to do with me. For a moment I regret asking, wondering if his negative response could lead me back to the cliff. I am surprised when he gathers me into his arms, holding so tightly against him that I can barely breathe. Every breath I do get is filled with his scent. It is calming and depressing all at once.
"I will never leave you,'/ he says softly. I allow my arms to snake around his back, resting against his chest. I can feel his breath in my hair. "Hell, I'm never letting you out of my sight against," his response makes me chuckle. It's so classically Luke. Comfortably Luke.
"I'm good with that," I whisper against him. I feel so much more comfortable now. It seems ages ago that I was even thinking about letting myself drop. In my mind I can feel that new, depressed version for myself. Subconsciously I cling to her, not yet willing to allow her to leave so I can get hurt again. While she in weak, and pathetic, she is also my hearts shield against real life. Slowly, he pulls away from the embrace. I feel like I've lost him again, but his arm automatically goes back around my waist as we begin to walk again.
"Lets take this one step at a time," he said after a moment. That is comforting for me to hear. I nod and relax into him.
"Well, we can't go back in time. This isn't the Twilight Zone," I say, please that I can crack a joke, even if it's a bad one. He smiles lightly. I love it when he smiles.
"Our Outer Limits," he says with a grin. This makes me laugh. It feel like the old Luke and Lorelai for a moment. Friends, possibly best friends.
"Geek," I say with a grin. He just laughs.
"Yeah, I am," he agrees softly. I feel lightly now. My legs have no problem carrying my weight. I pull away from him. I feel strong again, and I don't want to rely on someone to carry me. He seems upset at the loss of contact, so I grab his hand, giving it a light, reassuring squeeze, which he returns.
As we break out of the woods and head into town I can feel eyes on us. It makes me smile now because the stares no longer feel accusatory.
As I follow Luke into the diner, the diner which I haven't entered in almost a year, I feel a calm come over me. I sit on a stool while Luke goes about making me a coffee and take in my surroundings. The pain that I chose. The terrible decorations that I love. Everything.
Suddenly, I'm home. I know it may be a while before I am completely back to my normal self, but I no longer feel like the trek is too long to bear, and I know now I won't have to bear it alone. Finally I feel I have the power to be, and it's freeing.
Responses are welcome. Thanks for reading :D