because the last time you saw me
is still burned in the back of your mind
you gave me roses and i left them there to die
For some stupid reason, I'm sitting awake as the clock on my dresser blinks 2:37. It's been three days since my stupid choice to call Darcy and for some reason, despite knowing how irrational it would be to expect to hear from him after the mess we've been through, I couldn't help my mind from traveling to our previous conversations. To all the things spoken, and even more to the things unspoken between the two of us that have continued to plague my every waking moment, which of late, has extended far into the night. I can't even be upset about the way things ended. From the moment we'd met, I had been determined to find faults in him, determined to keep him the villain in a story I was far too eager to tell, and it worked. For a little while at least. Until somehow it didn't. He professed his love, and no matter how unappealing it had been at the time, looking back, I can't even remember the anger I'd felt. Instead, my heart aches. Aches for that same profession of love I once despised. I once mocked. But it was gone.
I did the one thing I'm good at, without a doubt, and that's push. No matter how many times Lydia reassures me that her words were meaningless, built from spite and anger, I know, deep down, that there was truth to what she had said those many months ago. I push people away. I push because I don't know what else to do. All this time, I've been so afraid to ask myself what comes next. How in the hell am I supposed to play adult when I still feel like a kid, trying to find my place? Trying to determine who I am and what I'm supposed to be. I guess, some part of me saw that same raw honesty in Darcy. That same need to be in control, to push when things aren't going my way. I was blinded by my own fear, my own need for control, my decisions, my judgement. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to figure out the parts of myself I could trust, and I failed.
In so many ways I failed and instead, I've only proven that I've been wrong about everything and everyone, and now it's too late. It would be stupid to hope that Darcy could still feel anything but contempt for me and my family. What I wouldn't give to go back to that day when you saw me. I didn't know at the time. How could I? No, instead I was angry. Furious because it seemed my life had fallen apart and it was easier to blame you than to admit that I was broken. Hurt. Confused. And prejudiced. Prejudiced against you who wounded my pride.
Now, looking back at everything that happened after, I thought it meant something. I thought maybe, just maybe, you hadn't completely forced me out of your mind. When you showed up at Pemberley Digital in a crooked tie and a look of shock, I knew I had made a mistake, and yet for the first time, I saw you. Not this man who I was determined to hate, but instead the man who loved me when I was absolutely unlovable. I mean, I yelled at you. I laughed at you. I went so far as to say you were the last man I could ever see myself falling for, and I was so incredibly stupid. And so, I guess what this has become, is an apology.
I go back to that day all the time, turn around, and change my own mind. I go back to all of those moments when you showed me how you felt, and the ways in which I twisted them to fit my own story.
I just want you to know that I would have said yes. I would have spent an hour deciding on what to wear. Trying to figure out the right balance of makeup and trying to decide if we were going as friends to the theatre, or if you still wanted to prove to me that despite all of my faults, you still loved me. I wanted to believe you still did, and almost convinced myself so.
Tell Darcy I said thanks. Lydia's words replay in the back of my mind on a constant loop. You saved her, and you saved me. You have done more for her, shown her more kindness, than I have and should have. Part of me selfishly hoped you did it for me and I thought by now you would have said something. But you haven't. Instead, you've remained silent and I've been foolishly believing that what we had was not over. I've talked myself into a thousand reasons why you haven't called me back, but in the end, it all comes down to you moving on with your life and the need for me to move on with mine.
No matter how this turns out. I just wanted you to know that I, Lizzie Bennet, am unequivocally in love with you, William Darcy. And that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be the person you thought you fell in love with. I'm sorry I was blinded by a sob story and a pretty face. I'm sorry that I'm not the kind of girl you deserve and that I can't find the words to tell you any of this in person. But most importantly, I'm sorry for loving you at the wrong time.