Disclaimer Nothing belongs to me on the new CW network
I find it funny how the day b4 I posted my first fic, I had NEVER planned on posting. Now, here it is, less than 2 weeks later, I'm posting another. Don't think me slow; I find humor everywhere.
Okay, I watched the first episode, as did every other Gilmore Girls fan, but after the episode went off, there was a little trailer-type-of-situation for next week's episode. The spoiler alert goes no further than that. If you didn't see that part and you don't want to know anything, stop reading. What I saw was Luke trying to play down his whole relationship with Lorelai, and then they cut to Lorelai kissing and riding (dirty!) with Chris. I wouldn't even call that a spoiler, but some of Luke's letter is based on that. For the purpose of this story/letter/whatever, Luke went away for 2 months after his confrontation to Lorelai. Also, he somehow found out about L/C' s budding romance. When he came back, he wanted to reach out. Now, read please :-p
Something to Say
Dear Lorelai,
This is Luke. I know that sounds a bit elementary in presentation, but I felt that that should be established. Reason being is that most, if not all of this letter's content may sound somewhat uncharacteristic, but there are things that need to be said.
I am not writing this to make you feel bad or hurt you in ANY way. I want you to know that before I proceed with anything.
First off, it's been a really long summer for me. I could barely deal. The only other summer that seemed this long and miserable was the one I spent in Maine. But, that was under very different circumstances. I missed you. We had just gotten the ball rolling, and I had to take off. Every day that I woke up knowing that it would be another without you was awful. But it was okay because I knew that I would soon return home and everything would be fine. I had something to look forward to.
This time, however, all I could look forward to was a decrease in pain. And everyday was a letdown because the pain just grew. It got to a point when crying myself to sleep became a nightly ritual. Just writing that is weird, but I have no intention of erasing anything that gets written. I would never tell you to your face that I was crying because I know that (under different conditions) the mocking would be infinite. Another reason I wouldn't tell you is because it's just not who I am. I just can't see leaving myself open like that. It's amazing what you can write on paper.
I haven't had many serious relationships. You know of all the ones that I have had. There was Rachel, Anna, Nicole…and you. The three dots that separates you from them is not just meant as a thoughtful pause. It's hard for me to place you in any category with my exes. Because you were it. I thought I knew what it was like to love someone entirely. With at least two of these women, I thought I knew. It wasn't until you came along that I found out how wrong I had been.
I know I used to tell you all of the time how beautiful you were. That was, actually, the first thing that I noticed about you when you came into my diner ten years ago. But that was it. My thoughts went no further than that because beauty isn't everything, ya know? Trying to convince myself that you were worth it just because of how you look would have, in my mind, set me up for disappointment. Looks fade. When I was younger, I based a lot on outer appearances. That's what led me to Rachel. She wasn't a complete regret, but if I wasn't so focused on her looks, I would have been able to effectively see many of her more hurtful flaws early on. Looking back, she wasn't exactly trying to hide them. What changed my whole perspective was when my mom got sick. If I were not witnessing her change on a day-to-day basis, I would have never been able to recognize her final form. But, to my dad, she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and he made sure she knew it. He saw her. Her outward beauty had always been icing to him.
Lorelai, when I saw you walk into my diner, you were breathtaking, but I wasn't going to act on that alone. I had no idea what lay underneath. Days passed and you showed up more and more. Weeks went by and I grew to like you. Even though you butchered my name daily, I liked you as a person. Weeks turned to months and months to years, and I found myself having a deep-rooted respect for you. You were irritating, and I let you know this on a very regular basis, but still, my respect for you flourished.
The first thing that I fell in love with was you and your daughter's mutual love for one another. I loved watching the two of you interact. Every day for years, I saw you smile when you didn't really want to, do things just to help others, and I could look into your eyes and know exactly what you were feeling, despite what may come out of your mouth. You came to mean a lot to me.
When I finally decided to take the leap, I was ecstatic to get reciprocation. The love was already there. It had been there, and all I wanted you to do was catch up.
Love. The first time you directed the word at me, you saw, maybe, a tenth of my emotion. I melted inside. I knew that you were the one for me before you became my woman, officially. I just knew. I had found true love. As corny as it sounds, you were the light to all the dark areas of my life. Memories of you still are.
In my mind, you were there with me. No other woman, not even pre-leaving Rachel, had been. I wanted you by my side through everything. When I found out about April, it threw my life into a spin. I had a lot to deal with, and usually, that would have been the point where I'd shut down completely. Being the simple guy that I've always been, I don't deal too well with compounding problems. I just don't, character flaw or not. I felt myself wanting to turn everything else off and focus on the situation that could not wait—April. But I didn't. At least in my mind, I didn't turn you off.
I would come over at the drop of a hat to keep your home free of spiders. I was being there for you and still dealing with my long lost child. I would go to the Inn and fix things for you with that dingbat of a desk attendant yammering in broken English. I was being there for you and still forming a relationship with my daughter. I would go to the beach in below zero weather just because you asked. I was being there for you and still forming love for April. In my head, everything was working out. Slowly, but still…
I put lots of effort into building something with April, not seeing, truly, what I was doing to you.
Many weeks this past summer were spent feeling sorry for myself. The moment that I began to see my part in this—my very large part—my healing began. Don't get me wrong, it hurt. It probably hurt worse to know that I had caused it, but the healing had begun.
I began to see how bad I had hurt you. I would go back to certain moments where I'd recall a fleeting look of pain in your eyes, and I'd want to yell at, scream at, and fight the cause of it. But it was me. I was the cause. Knowing I caused you any pain was the worst punishment I could have ever gotten.
It hurts me now to know that I was so focused on something else that I didn't take time out to see you. Your energy was no longer there, and I didn't even notice. I had waited years to be with you, with my first true love. And, in 6 months time, I killed our relationship by stupidly thinking that I didn't have to work anymore to foster it. I took advantage of having you and having you want to be with me.
But I know you. You have never been the type to bite your tongue. But you chose to do so when so much was at stake. Did you feel that you and your pain would not have been well-received? I just don't understand.
And then came Christopher. My first thought upon hearing that you slept with him was 'how could she?'. I try not to think of it much these days, but that particular indiscretion will never stop being a painful mystery to me. Why did it have to be Chris? You could have gone to anyone, but you chose him. Then, you had sex with him, Lorelai. I can't put into words how that made me feel. If your intent was to hurt me, mission accomplished. I wouldn't wish the feeling on anyone.
And then, not soon after, you began a relationship with him. I never thought I'd place you in the same category of 'cold' or 'heartless', but that's where you took up residence. Even owning up to and accepting everything that I did wrong did not make your actions understandable to me. I'm sorry, but it didn't.
I have accepted that you and I will no longer have a romantic future. You said that it was over, and I was unwilling to let you go…until I heard about Chris. Now, I don't think that I could go back.
The main reason that I pulled out this paper and pen hasn't been discussed yet. Up until now, I've just been kind of rambling. It's been heartfelt ramblings, but ramblings nonetheless.
The main reason is this—after I found out what you did, we had a run-in on the street. I was hurting. I was pained, and that's all I felt. I looked you in your eyes and, basically, told you that you were some sort of a conquest, like, I was marrying you to humor you or something. I can't remember exactly what I said because I have a hard time remembering lies. That's what they were.
Just words. Ugly, stupid, VERY untrue words. Like I said before, our future as a couple is, well, not good. But, what I will not do is take away from our past.
I don't regret one moment spent with you. You made me happier than I will ever choose to admit, and (despite what you may have thought) I wanted to marry you. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I wanted to wake up and see your beautiful eyes staring back into mine. I looked forward to our 1000th time making love. I remember you told me about the Friends episode where one of the guys (whose name I don't remember) told Satchel or Rachel—yeah, Rachel; where'd Satchel come from?—the number of times they'd done it. It was a week and a half into our relationship. I mentally counted back and determined that we'd done it five times already. I started to keep count from then on. Each time we made love, I'd add it to the count. I thought that I'd surprise you with a special evening for our 100th time, but that got ruled out when we had that, ahem, quickie during the lunch rush. After missing the 200th time and the 300th, I decided to wait 'til 1000. I figured we'd be married by then, and that would make it that much more special.
But, we never made it. I would tell you the number we ended on, but what would be the point?
Anyway, I don't know where we go from here. Do we avoid one another? Do we become uncomfortable acquaintances? Friends? I don't know. I do know that it's weird not seeing you or hearing you. It's weird. Maybe it's because before we became an item, we were friends. Some would say that we were best friends.
I know you have your life now, and hopefully I didn't bring up memories long forgotten to you. I just had to let you know, Lorelai. I had to. I hope you understand.
I don't know what coffee shop is getting ready to add an extra wing because of your excessive coffee purchases, but if you ever want a cup from an old friend, then just know that the door is always open. Anytime. It has to start somewhere.
Sincerely,
Luke
Just so everyone knows, I love Luke and Lorelai as a couple. Actually, the whole April-Anna-Christopher catastrophe caused me an entire summer of sadness…well, as much as a TV show can cause, anyway. I just had to get this idea out there before it suffocated me. Please REVIEW! Come on, everyone's doing it….
