Once again, SO SORRY for such a long period between updates. :$ I have a list of lame excuses that I could give you, but you probably just want to get on with the story. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, they are all the sole right of Louisa May Alcott. I do, however, own the following plot.

It is impossible to love and be wise.

-Francis Bacon

Who would have thought that being in love would be so frustrating? It makes emotions overpower reason, and decisions ten times harder to make. It lights the fire for my passion but extinguishes my bravery. I have never put something off out of fear. But I have been procrastinating talking to Laurie for hours.

I feel like screaming. What on earth am I supposed to say? This is very similar to when I am unsure of how to continue writing a story of mine - I know the vague events I want to take place and how it shall end, but I develop a case of writer's block. How shall I write the miniscule details, the dialogue my characters shall speak, and when and where? Only this is so much worse, for there is no revising what has been spoken aloud.

"Ungh!" I scream into my pillow. I wish to release my sound of frustration to the whole world - let them hear the scream of a cowardly woman who is too insecure to face the man she loves! - but this muffled yelp must do, for I do not wish to draw unwanted attention from the other inhabitants of the house.

Meg has long since left me be. She has convinced me to allow her to speak with our family and explain to them the situation between Laurie and myself. I'm sure she hasn't told them everything - leaving out my breakdowns and tantrums - but the main occurrences, meaning his admission and proposal, and my newfound feelings and... hesitation. In return for my permission, she has promised to make sure I am left alone.

I hear the door creak open and closed. I do not remove the pillow from my face to greet my intruder. The bed gives way beside me, so I put the pillow on my lap and glance up at Meg.

"Do you wish to sulk in here forever?" she inquires, completely serious.

"I am not sulking," I snap, "I'm thinking." I slam the pillow back over my face as I lie on my back. I hear her sigh.

"It is nearing evening," she prods. It is hard to believe that it was only this morning when Laurie confronted me. I had skipped lunch and stayed in my room after my talk with Meg.

"How are Mama and Papa?" I ask through the pillow. I feel her take hold of it and lift it from my face. I glare up at her for taking away my weak protection.

"Papa was confused, but Mama was not surprised," she answers. My eyes widen. "Come, Jo, you cannot think that I am the only one who has seen this coming. Mama is as perceptive as I, and she had also seen what was progressing between the two of you. Papa was... less perceptive." She smiles a little during her last sentence. I can only imagine Papa's astonishment at the thought of his tomboy daughter in love. But this slight amusement does not appease what is suddenly bugging me.

"Am I the only one who hadn't a clue of this?!" I exclaim. I groan loudly and irritably. Meg is more composed than I.

"Jo, you have been cooped up in here for too long. You need to do something," she says firmly.

"I know that! Don't you think I know that?!" I explode. I sit up and scowl, my eyes flashing. "How must I approach him? I do not wish to say the wrong thing..." I trail off softly. My irrational anger dispersed as quickly as it flared up. I wrap my arms around my knees and set my chin on them. I resent the look of pity on Meg's face.

"Where...?" I purse my lips before I choke it out, "Where is Laurie?"

The corner of her mouth twitches upward as she answers, "The last I heard, he returned home. But I do not believe he stayed there for too long."

I run my fingers through my hair and fist my hands around the roots, tugging on it. My hair has grown out past my shoulders now. I never really considered it before, nor did he mention a word of it, but I do not think Laurie liked it when I sold my hair. Perhaps he likes it better now? I shake out my mussed hair, as well as my ridiculous thoughts. What do I care what he thinks of my hair? I sigh when I realize I care very much what he thinks of me.

Love is unreasonable. It has turned me into such an insecure, emotional girl. Am I just going to hide from Laurie? That will only create misery for both of us. I will not inflict that on either of us. I can't.

I can't let the sun set on this.

I stand up, slowly but surely. Meg's eyes follow me, but she doesn't make a notion to move.

"This is your path to walk," she utters wisely. "I can't do much more than I already have. The rest is up to you." She smiles affectionately at me.

I walk out of my room and down the stairs determinedly. As I pass the family room, I see Mother and Father sitting on the couch. She spies me and smiles proudly, conveying her understanding of what I feel and what I am going to do. Father rests next to her, but contrasting Mother, he looks worried. I know that no matter how much he may trust Laurie, he still does not take to the concept of a man in my life. I nod at them before I exit the house.

When I am outside, I see that the sky has already transformed into an orange hue. I cannot believe I almost let this rest for another day.

I also think that Laurie probably did not stay at home and twiddle his thumbs, but I still check with his housekeeper. Having my suspicions confirmed, I try to think where he would have gone. After we have a fight, I usually lock myself up in my room until I can swallow my pride. Well, I've already done that. Where does Laurie go? I never really had to seek him out after a fight. We usually met somewhere in the middle, because we found the other at the same time with the same intention of reconciliation.

I'm walking aimlessly and agitatedly. How can I know someone inside and out and not know their next move? I press the heels of my palms into my eyes and sigh heavily. So much for my impulse of confrontation. My compulsive bravery withers with every unsure step I take.

When I bring my hands down, I see where my feet have taken me. It's the lake. The one I was at this morning, where everything changed. I don't know whether to laugh or cry at the irony, so a strangled sound chokes its way out of my throat. My head drops as my eyes close. A small, rueful smile finds its way onto my lips, and I shake my head.

How stupid am I? I must have lost him as soon as I ran from him. Who would want a girl - not a woman - who can't handle love? That must be what I am doomed to be - a little girl who can never grow up and handle grown-up emotions.

I refuse to cry. I am not going to weep over this, no matter how much my body needs to. This is my own fault, but I will not wallow in self-pity. I shake my head quickly and drop my hands, intending to better myself starting at this moment. I freeze halfway in the act of turning away from the lake when I come face to face with a figure looming beside a tree, a dozen feet away. My body coils tightly in fear, but not for the reason I initially think. I am frozen because the person watching me is the very same I was searching for, the one I had been with this very morning at this very spot by the water's edge.

My lips part open as he watches me carefully, not looking as surprised as I must at our close proximity. If I had been my old self who still thought of Laurie as a friend, I would have voiced my extreme annoyance at his new habit of spying on me. But he's not just a friend. Not anymore. The knowledge has my bottom lip trembling subtly as I stare in silence at the focus of my love and distress.

I can't find any words to say. But even if I did, it seems my voice has been lost as well. So I try to read his body language. His stance is strong, but not as confident as it was this morning. His limbs look tense, rigid almost. His jaw is clenched, like he's holding his words back by choice. And his eyes are weary, older.

My chest tightens with guilt and pain. This is my fault. I am the cause of his change in demeanor. My reaction obviously came across as a rejection in his eyes. One that has taken a toll to his ego. I curse myself silently and try to force myself out of my weak, frozen state. He doesn't deserve this. He needs to know the truth; I need to stop his hurting over this horribly awry, misinterpretation of my body language.

Laurie takes slow, steady steps towards me. He's obviously afraid of the possibility of my running again. He stops about five paces away from me, allowing space.

"Hi," he says quietly, too politely. I hate how he sounds so...formal.

I force the sound past the lump in my throat so I can croak, "Hi." I clear my throat so my voice won't sound so raspy. He shifts his weight and sighs.

"Look, Jo, I'm-"

"I'm sorry!" I blurt before I lose my nerve. He stops short and gapes at me, his eyes widening. "I'm so sorry for running," I repeat, quietly.

I take a few shallow breaths, trying to convey what he's still in the dark about. I say my next words much more quietly, "I do...I do love you, Laurie."

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