In the subsequent days after the phone conversation he had with her about letter number fifty one, Rachel just seemed to get busier and busier. By Sunday, he had given up hope of ever seeing her face on his web cam again. He was surprisingly fine with it though. By Sunday night, Finn was already up to letter number seventy one. It was amazing how much you can get done when your girlfriend is too busy to talk to you. The less time his girlfriend has to spend on him, the more time he has to get to know the girl she used to be. So Finn wasn't really as upset about the situation as they had both thought he would be. Even when Rachel wasn't around, she was just around. It was like she was with him everyday. Through each letter he read, he feels himself getting closer and closer to her, something he never thought was possible given how close they already were.
The letters leading up to Sectionals was just plain fun. As he read them he remembered thos people they used to be. Rachel was such a mystery to him then. This outspoken, strange girl with the ability to turn his thoughts into nothing but of her day in and day out even through all the burden he was carrying, of Quinn and the baby that he had thought was his. It made him smile to know the torch she carried for him. Every single letter never fails to mention his name, even when they had nothing to do with him. She was very proud of the fact that she managed to get him a job (As a friend, it was the least I can do to use all the power of influence within me to get him that job as a waiter mom. Some people might call me manipulative, but I just prefer the term resourceful. Now he finally has a chance to prove to Quinn how helpful he truly is. I wish she appreciated his efforts more. He's trying the best he can, but all she does is yell at him. It really does absolutely no good for his morale.). That job had been a bitch. Moving around in a wheelchair was no funny business and trying to bus a tray full of plates in one was just plain hell. But he did it and he got paid for it. That had made Quinn happy. Or at least bearable to live with.
She raved over the fact that he had been rooting for her during the sing-off with Kurt. It was really no competition in his opinion. Her voice was the most amazing thing he has ever heard. Kurt was awesome, but Rachel was just something else. Her voice gives him chills, the insanely good kind. He was glad to know that he wasn't a total douchebag. At least he made her happy sometimes. She even said so. In one letter, after some stupid cheerio had called her RuPaul one too many times and he had apparently called her awesome and the best ever, she had specifically said so (He is the only person to understand me and accept me as I truly am mom. Finn is special. You might think I'm just saying this because he is my only friend, but even if I were to have a thousand, he would be the only one I would call my truest and best friend. I won't tell him this though. It might scare him away.). The one about her crush on Mr Schue freaked him out a bit though. The thought of Rachel ever imagining Mr Schue as something other than their teacher made him want to throw up in his mouth just a little.
Dear mom. I have made the most idiotic fool out of myself this week. Stupidly, I had thought myself in love with my glee teacher. Thankfully, Mr Schuester had been very gracious about it. Suzy Pepper made me see the light when she talked about her own experience. She told me I was a mildly attractive person with a grating personality and that I should find my mildly attractive groove back. That was the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, except maybe when Finn told me he liked me. But Finn has always been different. It gets harder and harder not to care about what the others think of me. Sometimes I blame him for that. If he didn't show me how good it felt to be liked, then it wouldn't bother me so much when nobody likes me. I was acting like such a silly girl. I'm ashamed to say I even went to his house for a visit. His wife got me to clean their toilet for them. I have never stooped so low, even in my most desperate attempts to reach stardom. I am only grateful that nobody else knows of this or else I woud never be able to live with the mortification. Rachel Barbara Berry.
Dear mom. Mr Schue once told me that someday I was going to find someone. I was going to find the boy who loves me for exactly who I am. He said that boy was going to love even all the things I hate about myself. I thought he was really full of it. Where was I going to find that person? Finn said something to me and it made me think again. Kurt Hummel had offered his services to me this week. He told me he wanted to give me a makeover. I don't know why I trusted him. He hates me and I don't even know why. But it made Finn see me. He saw me in a way I've always dreamed he would. In my delusional mind I truly thought I had a chance. But Kurt sabotaged me and it chased Finn away. I had been literally squeezed into this ridiculous leotard and he told me I looked like a sad clown hooker. That had hurt. But then, oh mom. He told me he really likes the way I dress just as me. He likes my sequinned leg warmers. He notices them! And now all I keep thinking about is the words Mr Schue said to me about that special boy. What if I found him mom and he belongs to someone else? What then? Rachel Barbara Berry.
He had frowned deeply as he read that letter, remembering the night clearly in his mind. It had killed him to walk away. She had looked ridiculous. And his stupid mouth had opened and the horrible word vomit just came out before he could stop himself. He was such a bumbling oaf of a jock. What kind of an idiot says someone looks like a sad clown hooker anyway? She was adorable, even through that weird make up and that really bad way she wore her hair. He couldn't believe Kurt had really sabotaged her. It still blew his mind to think that his stepbrother was once in love with him. He didn't like to think about that one for too long. It didn't bring good memories. But oh how he wished so badly he could have stayed that night. He remembers running like an idiot back to Quinn, telling her he loved her just so he could get rid of the guilt he felt at the intensity of his feelings for Rachel. He really hadn't been fair to his ex-girlfriend. He guessed they both did a lot of lying.
Hey stopped talking about her letters in their conversations, mostly because she was too busy to really talk for long periods of time. He had a feeling the director of hers was a nazi and when he told her so, she didn't try to berate and just sighed in resgination instead. Their calls become short and constant blurbs, always catching each other at whatever free time the other had. She was usually busy during lunch, when he was at work and he was free during the crazy late rehearsals her director insisted on conducting. Short voicemails became the norm, unless she was missing him particularly hard. Then she could go on on and on for three voicemails or five. Her record though, was definitely seven.
She had spent the first three fuming of how Ashley had once again tried to steal her role by fooling her into thinking the rehearsal schedule had changed, knowing her uncle's intolerence for no-shows. Thankfully, she had stressed dramatically, Alan had come to her rescue once again when his friend Todd from the lighting department apparently overheard her plans and told him. Finn thought these people she was with were just as ridiculously dramatic as she was and really couldn't wait until she returned to Lima and be around relatively stabler humans. Relative being the operative word. Her next two was about her rehearsals and how this director was almost like the second coming of Sue Sylvester (That made him shudder. Sue Sylvester scared the crap out of him.). Her last two was Rachel, almost in hysterics, screaming about how ludicrous it was that they just can't seem to catch each other and just talk for five fucking minutes. He added the fucking part, of course. He was inclined to agree with her. He didn't even bother feeling put out that she was raving about Alan once again because it had just felt so good to hear her voice after a hard day of having Sandy Ryerson make him unfold and fold basically every fucking sheet in the store before leaving with a pink porcelain statue of a cat. He didn't think they could ever pay him enough to handle that man. Poor Howard Bamboo has never recovered from Sandy Ryerson's emotional abuse. He had an odd way of making you feel like a complete failure at your inablitiy to tell the difference from Coral pink to Carmine pink or whatever the hell it was he said. She posts videos of herself rehearsing on Myspace for him. She was amazing of course. God, he missed glee and performing with her so much. Once he even saw Alan, who waved at him from behind her huge and crazy smile.
That Sunday, he had just called her goodnight. Or at least he tried to. The poor girl was was exhausted and had answered the phone sleepily. He was sure she already fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. She had texted him five minutes earlier, informing him she was home but he was finishing up an errand for his mom. When he told her so, she said it was fine and that she would be waiting by the phone. It was ten thirty, and the only night where her rehearsals didn't run to an ungodly hour. But by the time he called, she was already only halfway lucid, incoherently mumbling at him through the speakers. He had gently told her to go back to sleep and hung up. He wasn't sure if she even heard him. Sighing at his ruined plans for the night, Finn had turned to the next best thing to Rachel, her letters. He opened letter number seventy one dejectedly.
Dear mom. Quinn Fabray lied. Finn isn't a father. She's pregnant and th baby is Noah's. I'm still reeling from the day's events. I had cleverly extracted the truth out of her when I suspected something was fishy. Noah has been suspiciously attentive to her needs, moreso than a normal impartial unrequited lover. Does it make me a horrible person to say that I was so incredibly relieved to now the truth even though I realized how much it was going to hurt him? Tomorrow's Sectionals and Finn's not coming. Everybody is blaming me. But how could I keep it from him mom? Yes, admittedly some of my compulsion to tell him came from the fact that he would now be free of his chains and free to, I hope, pursue me. But even if it wasn't so, Finn has been nothing but a good friend to me ever since the whole bowling debacle, which I have chosen to put behind me completely. And the issue with the club photo, of which I have also chosen to ignore, hence you not knowing about it until now. Anyway, as his friend, his real and true friend, how could I not tell him the truth? He refused to believe me in the beginning. It had hurt when he said that I was lying. When he realized that I wasn't, he swiftly stalked bac into the choir room and proceeded to physically assault Noah until Mr Schue came and broke them apart. Sectionals is tomorrow but all I can think about is Finn. Mom I'm so worried. I wish someone could tell me things are going to be fine. Rachel Barbara Berry.
Dear mom. Finn saved us again! We were completely sabotaged by the other two schools and were to at the point of defeat when he strode into the room heroically, with a song in hand. I knew he would come through. When I asked him if he was okay he had just smiled at me and told him not to worry about it. How can I not worry about it when this whole situation was caused by me. But I took his words to heart and I gave it my best. Don't Rain on My Parade has been my best and most perfected catalogue in my repertoire. Needless to say, I'm certain I made my namesake proud. We won Sectionals mom! I'm still pinching myself over it. Poor Mr Schuester couldn't come with us, so we arranged a special performance just for him. He ran out of the room the minute it was over, but that wasn't important. What was important was that I had taken Finn's hand in mine when it was over and squeezed it. He had smiled at me and squeezed back. This is the start of something new mom. I can feel it in my bones. Rachel Barbara Berry.
It wasn't until letter seventy seven when he stopped reading. This whole stack was a disaster. From the moment Sectionals was over and he came back down from the high it had brought, he and Rachel had been doomed to fail. Life after Sectionals was just the most fucked up he had ever been. It was three weeks of feeling nothing but the numb pain of loss. Loss of so many fucking things. Quinn. Puck. Drizzle. It was the loss of his pride that had hurt the worst of all. He had refused to speak to anyone who wasn't Rachel. She had taken his hand willingly, guiding him through that hazy first week protectively. He had refused to talk and so she did. She talked and talked and talked. Her voice had washed over him in calming waves, the sound soothing his broken heart. He wasn't even sure what she was talking about.
Finn never really tried to lead her on. Of course he hadn't. But he had kissed her that one time. And that had been the downfall. He couldn't help himself. She had looked beautiful and heartbroken as she kneeled next to him on the floor, her hands on his thigh. He told her all about Drizzle. About how he cried like a baby, realizing that daughter wasn't his. Feeling stupid for pouring all his love into a picture of a sonogram of someone else's kid. Breaking his mother's already fragile heart. And she had looked like she understood everything he was feeling. If he had known then what he knew now, it would have made perfect sense (I thought of you mom, and how we've never seen each other. If he could love this child so unconditionally when he thought it was his, couldn't you, knowing with absolute certainty I was yours? It must have been hard to give me away. Poor Finn. He had that baby ripped away from him. It was never his in the first place.).
She had stuck to him just a litle tighter after that. And in those first few weeks he didn't care, but then he started feeling again, and he found that he did. She had stifled him, and it wasn't even because she became more insistent. She was exactly the same. He was the one who changed. Suddenly, she became overbearing. Suddenly the attentions that he had welcomed began to choke the atmosphere around him. And he knew she could feel it too. (He's slipping away mom. How do I let him see? He keeps missing our dates. So I'm making us a his and her calenders. Maybe he won't miss them anymore.). He could tell from her letters she was getting desperate. Sometimes she sounded downriht crazy (How do I hold onto him mom?), and he new she became that way because of him.
In a way, it was both their faults. He had made the first move even though he knew he wasn't ready. But she had let him, knowing the very same thing. After all, Rachel had said it perfectly herself. She was the only one who really knew him. The only who would accept him exactly the way he was. He was too blinded by his newfound freedom, denying his own heart what he truly wanted because he was scared of what it would entail. And she was too impatient, too hurt and broken to wait for him to be ready. In the end, it was the both of them who ruined that chance. She knew it too.
Dear mom. Finn and I are no longer together. This hurts too much. He hurts too much. I can't do this anymore. I'm tired of being the only who keeps holding on. The only one waiting, wishing for something more. I know he cares for me. And maybe one day he'll realize it. But I'm done waiting. Rachel.
He remembers those two people, both lost in their own selfish reasons to really see where the other was coming from. Sometimes when he thinks back, it was like looking at two strangers. Two people who were not him, not Rachel. It was two people completely in-tuned with one another, but choosing to ignore the signals the other was sending. Again, he couldn't truly regret his post-sectionals stress. In the grand scheme of things, it made their inevitable coming together just that much more meaningful to the both of them. Finn leaned back into his pillows and looked out. It was almost light out. He had that Monday off. He was going to call her every break she gets. He was going to start with a wake up call.