Getting back together with Luke seemed like nothing so much as the fulfillment of an impossible dream.
In the weeks and months beforehand, Lorelai hadn't wanted to admit to herself how much she had wanted it. The past year had been filled with one stupid, hasty decision after another: the ultimatum, the disastrous night after the ultimatum, the decision to jump into a relationship that required her to navigate the gilded circles of a world that she'd spent most of her life escaping. Somehow she hadn't noticed how utterly wrong all of it was before she plunged into what now seemed like the world's most ill-advised marriage. She'd been pretending for so much of that time: pretending that her relationship wasn't worth saving, that she was okay with breaking Luke's heart, that she could walk away from not only him, but all of the good things that had nurtured her for so long and not regret it. She had convinced herself that she could act like she was half of the kind of stable couple who had raised an Ivy League educated daughter together when she knew perfectly well that she had spent most of her life doing it with the help of everyone else but the person beside her. She pretended that she was content to be married to someone who she had always known would never really be there for her just because he had wanted to say yes. It felt so good to stop pretending that she'd almost forgotten how much her own life had gotten away from her, how she had become a person she didn't even recognize anymore.
It wasn't until she finally achieved the goal that had been so important to her – actually getting married – that she realized how out of control things had gotten, and how small and insignificant that milestone was when compared to the rest of her life. She had been so much more before she embarked upon her brief tenure as a wife – a competent business owner who had built her dream out of scratch, an unflagging guide and cornerstone for her daughter, the tolerant yet slight wary confidante for her daughter's friends. She had been a best friend, a neighbor, a tentpole for the bustle and craziness that defined Stars Hollow. It wasn't until she began embracing those parts of her life again that she realized how much of a mistake it was to bring someone who didn't understand those things into the fold and call him her life partner.
It wasn't his world and it never would be. It wasn't until she mistakenly thought he could be a part of it that she realized how futile it had been to strive for this illusory dream of marriage. For so long, she had clung to it and sacrificed almost everything for it, determined that she would achieve it with anyone who was willing to play the part. It wasn't until it was completely over that she had to admit she was at a loss for why she had wanted it so much in the first place.
There was still a certain hollowness in getting back to the person she had been before her life became a sea of emotional turmoil and broken relationships. Lorelai hadn't been able to identify it at first because the other parts came back to her so easily, even before she had been able to admit the truth about her recent life decisions. She could try to make peace with her mother and half-heartedly win her approval. She could be a good example for her daughter again. She could participate in town events and know that this had always been her home and that she had been foolish to try to imagine that she could be happy with any other sort of life.
However, it wasn't until she met Luke at Lane's baby shower that she admitted to herself how big of a part of that old life he had been, and how it never seemed right without him. She'd spent a long time accepting his implied edict that he didn't want anything else from her than for her to accept his stony silence as his customer. She couldn't even commit to that because she knew they had hurt each other too much for either of them to bear it. As with all bitter break-ups, one half of the couple gets to keep the friends, and she let him keep Stars Hollow as long as she could. Lorelai still felt incredibly guilty for her part in what had gone wrong and had been careful not to force the kind of uncomfortable encounter that would cause him more pain than she already had. She felt that all the rage and hurt and loss she felt at being excluded from his life had been somehow expunged due to her actions: she still ached for he hadn't been ready to give her, but she no longer felt resentful about the person who caused it.
Even after everything that had happened between them, she still wanted to give him some of the happiness that he had lost. She wanted to help him retain the family he had chosen. Even if he hadn't chosen her, he still deserved good things. He still deserved to be happy.
In her more hopeful moments, she wondered if she could find a way to be one of those good things again.
Maybe things had changed. Maybe they had both changed enough to let each other in this time.
It was one thing for them to admit that they were sorry for had badly things had broken down between them. She knew nothing else would be possible beyond that point. It felt good to admit her part in it and know he had accepted it. It possibly meant more to her to know that than it felt to hear the same from him. She had known at some level that they'd both been fumbling their way through something neither of them knew how to deal with and they hadn't noticed how out of control it was until it was too late. She knew that he had probably figured that out far before she did, but she'd already enmeshed herself too deep into another bad decision to start over at that point. When it came to forgiving him, she still felt that sting in her gut that reminded her of all the loneliness and sadness that she felt.
But she also knew that she did right away.
It didn't heal anything. It didn't cover up that gaping black hole that existed inside of her. But it was a start.
Coming into the diner was another start. And being friends again? It finally felt like the best part of the old her was back, the part that everyone else saw but him because she had been so afraid to get near him. It reminded her of what her life had been, in the eight years before she was his girlfriend, his lover, the person he was supposed to be with for the rest of his life. Before she had known what it was like to feel so tightly clenched in another person's life that she felt like her heart wouldn't exist without knowing him in that way.
The trouble was that the before wasn't enough. She knew then that she missed him, the whole him, the way it felt to have her heart full. She didn't know if there was a way back to each other, if the forgiveness and the friendship and her usual place at that coffee table was enough to bring them back to each other.
She didn't know if he felt enough of those things that she did to want to try again.
But that's what life was, wasn't it? You took the good parts of your life and cherished them for what they were found a way to find joy again. She'd learned that as the outcast in a home where her every breath seemed like it was never quite good enough. She learned that as a teenager raising her daughter in a potting shed, desperately trying to put enough money to keep her and Rory afloat, grateful for the fact that even if things were rough, her daughter would grow up knowing she was cherished and accepted. Even now, after all she'd accomplished on her own, she could deal with the fact that Luke never fully forgave her, that he'd never be willing to let her in.
It felt a little better to tell herself that it was better off this way. That if Luke couldn't come to her, then she wasn't willing to come to him. If he couldn't find the words to say what he wanted from her, then maybe he didn't really feel the way that she did. Maybe this distance, this hole, was a permanent part of her now. She still had Luke as a friend. She had the before. Sure, she was soon losing her little girl to the real world and would have to face this new stage of her life more alone than she wanted to be, but life had to move on. If it wouldn't be the same as it was before, maybe that was just another consequence of her actions that she had to live with.
The thing she hadn't counted on what that she had underestimated Luke all along. He would willingly sacrifice anything for her. She'd forgotten that. It was exactly the type of thing he would do. He would make some ridiculously elaborate gesture just to give her daughter this final send-off into the world and think of no credit for himself.
That was him. That was Luke.
He had never relied on something so flimsy and so easily faked as words.
This was how he showed her he loved her.
The resulting kiss told her everything she needed to know.
The words came soon afterwards.
I missed you. I love you.
She couldn't believe she had ever wanted to hear them from anyone else.