l.Author's Note:
I'm not sure what this is, but I felt compelled to write after S&B's scene in the rain Thursday. This is part one of a two part series; the first part is Brenda's perspective on their conversation and the second part will be Sonny's. I hope you enjoy.
~ * ~
"Who hears me, who understands me, becomes mine--a possession for all time."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
~ * ~
It's raining again. It seems like it's rained since the day I set foot back in Port Charles. Not a misty rain or summer shower either; it's hard and sharp and pounds the ground with a surprising fury. I haven't seen rain like this in years, five to be exact, since the day the man I loved left me to die. Or at least that's what it felt like, when he left me alone, standing in the rain.
It's always been the rain between us. Every time he's broken my heart, it's been in the rain. Doesn't matter if it was five years ago or five minutes. All I know is that if he or I are ever in the rain, alone together, I'm going to end up hurting. It's funny, having your heart ripped out. It's like losing something you didn't know you had, because no matter what you think you've been through, nothing prepares you for that kind of pain.
But that's what happens, when your entire existence depends on a man. Okay, that's a lie. Not a man, but the love of man. . .the love between a man and me. Because that was my life for five years, a world that only existed when Sonny loved me. I can't even remember if I was happy or not, because it really didn't matter. What mattered was having him in my life, being near him, knowing he loved me. . .those were the things that kept me going--and when I didn't have those things, out came a tripod-wielding psycho.
In the end I called it sick, twisted. Again, another lie. What Sonny and I had could never be sick or twisted. It was beautiful, not that I'd let him know it. When I came to him that night it wasn't regret I felt, but anger, furious anger. He was everything I'd ever known since I was eighteen-years-old. I had given him five years of my life, my youth, my dreams, my love--and he'd destroyed them. He'd destroyed me. He'd made me weak; he'd made me into someone I hated. And for his crimes, I wanted him to pay. So I took the one part of me he thought he had, my heart, and took it away. I gave it to another man, a man he hated, and made him suffer. This time there was no glass to throw, no bodyguards to abuse--this was payback, pure and simple. I'd never felt anything so sweet.
~ * ~
It's not that I don't love Jax, because I do. How could I not love my shining prince? He took a broken woman and did everything he could to make her whole again. And for his efforts, I gave him my heart. But it wasn't the same; it wasn't complete. How could it be? Sonny is a part of me; even if I wanted to, I couldn't change that. So I gave Jax what I could: my devotion, my loyalty, and what was left of my heart, and it was enough. Jax makes me strong, he makes me proud--but he doesn't make me whole.
I love Jax more than he could imagine, but not the way he thinks. I love him for the man he is, the strength he gives me, the love he shares with me--but not his heart. I love him because he tries so hard to do right by me, to make me happy, but mostly because he fails. I guess my love is mixed in with a little bit of pity, because try as he might, he can't give me what I want. What I need, but not what I want. Because I need him--but I want Sonny.
It's insane isn't it, after all that the man has put me through, that I still want him? It's been eight years, but sometimes I sit up at night and my mouth still burns from his kiss. Sometimes, in the dead of night, I reach for him and cry when I realize he's not there beside me. And then I cry harder, because I've shed enough tears for this man, I've given enough of my life to him--but I can't help myself. Because when you love someone so much you can't get past it, when it becomes as natural to you as breathing, it's a hard habit to break. Especially, when it's a habit you don't want to break.
~ * ~
When I returned to Port Charles I never thought I'd see Sonny Corinthos in the flesh. I went to St. Timothy's expecting him not to show. He's left me standing in the rain so many times before; why would that night have been any different? Except that night was different; that night he did come, and for a moment it made up for all the times he'd left me behind. That night, when I needed him so badly, needed to see him breathing one last time, he came through for me.
He looked right at me and finally I knew everything. He loved me. For a long time a part of me thought he didn't, but he did. I've always loved him and he's always loved me. After all we've been through together, all the pain and betrayal, I needed to know that. It would never stop hurting any less, but in that moment I knew our love was real. . .and that made it all worth it. But then, before I could blink, he looked right into my eyes and took his last breath. . .or at least I thought he did.
~ * ~
In all my time with him, I never thought I'd see Sonny die. If a cat has nine lives Sonny has a thousand. He's cheated death so many times it's a miracle he's still breathing. But he is breathing. . .and it isn't a miracle. It's a trick, a game, and I'm the ultimate pawn, because no matter how many times I think I won't fall for it, he gets me every time. Like when he left me at the altar I swore I would never forgive him. I went to his penthouse to hurt him, to tell him I'd given me heart to another, and I still ended up with his arms wrapped around me and his mouth on mine. I looked into his eyes that night and saw the challenge. He knew, even then, when I hated him for what he did, that I couldn't stay away. He knew that even though were over, that I had Jax in my life, hell I had the strength to pull away, I'd be back. It was only a matter of time.
I'll give myself credit; I tried to tempt fate. I thought I had Sonny Corinthos out of my system. Until that night at the church, when I watched him die. Afterwards I mourned for him, mourned him like I'd never mourned another; not Stone, my father, even Lily. I mourned losing him because it was like losing a piece of myself, because when I was eighteen-years-old, one day I was walking on the pier. I was carrying my little suitcase and this man came up to me. He asked me if I needed any help--my entire life changed in that moment. Everything I thought I knew about love turned out to be wrong. I didn't have to play games; I didn't have to become something I wasn't. All I had to do was look into Sonny Corinthos' deep, dark eyes and I was his--or he was mine--I never could figure who owned who more.
The night I found him, shot and bleeding, was the first time I realized Sonny Corinthos couldn't die, not as long as I was there to save him. I gave him my blood and in the process he captured my soul. After that night there was no going back. Because now we share blood and he is a part of me. I couldn't be rid of him if I tried.
I saved him that night and I kept right on doing it. Like when Stone and Lily died, when Mike turned up after thirty years of abandonment; when Robin told him she had HIV; or when Jason Morgan was born. But that night in the rain, when I couldn't save him, that's the only time I truly believed him dead.
Maybe it's selfish, but I didn't think he could go on without me. I know I couldn't go on without him. When I went over that cliff, felt the icy chill of water against my skin, I might have screamed Jax's name, but I saw Sonny's face.
It was Puerto Rico, the sun was setting in the sky, and he was cradling my face in his hands, whispering how much he loved me. That was what I saw when I died; it was Sonny's face on my mind. And that night in the rain, when a bullet squeezed the breath out of him, it was seeing my smile, my laugh, my face. Turns out I hadn't exorcized his ghost after all.
~ * ~
Sick and twisted, huh? Of course it is, but not in any way a normal person could understand. No one could understand us. We were two lost souls, set adrift in a lonely world. Somehow we found one another and we never looked back.
I know things are different now. I love Jax and he loves Carly, but nothing has changed between us. When I look in his eyes I still see a mirror image of myself and I still want him. I'm a bit wiser now. I know he can hurt me, will hurt me again and again, but it doesn't stop me. When the floodgates are open, it's impossible to shut them again, even if you want to.
~ * ~
The other day at the hospital I ran into him in the rain. He was standing there alone, the water pouring down around him. He looked right at me and smiled, dimples flashing.
"Sonny?"
"Hey."
"Are you okay?"
"I just found out I'm not going to be a father."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not. While you were gone, Carly and I had a baby. It died before it was born. And I realized right there, there are some things you just can't have."
It's ironic; as much pain as he's caused me in the past, it causes me more to see him hurting. When I look in his eyes I see his pain and I feel it in my soul. He always felt he didn't have the right to be loved. I struggled for so long to prove he was not only capable of love, but worthy of it too. It seems all my effort was in vain, because somewhere along the line he lost the battle. It seems his wife hasn't done much to fix that either.
It's not jealousy; I'm allowed to dislike her. She hurt people I love and I'll never forgive her for that. She says I'm a hypocrite, that we're alike, but we're not. I can admit I've hurt the people I love, but never on purpose. That's something she can never say. I want Sonny to be happy, but how can he be happy with a woman who makes him miserable? A woman who lies to him. . .a woman who betrays him. Evidently the man who always reached for the stars settled for something earthbound. I can only hope it's enough.
But I knew it wasn't enough and would never be enough. So I saved him again, the way I had so many times in the past.
"I'm-I'm sad to know that you think you're not meant to have a baby."
"No one gets everything they want, right?"
In the back of my mind something told me this was wrong, that maybe it wasn't me he wanted to confide in, but his wife or Jason. But something had pulled me to him, when I saw him standing alone in the rain. I didn't have to go out there; I didn't have to comfort him. But yet. . .I couldn't stay away and he made no effort to let me go.
I wanted to reach out to him then, when he was hurting so badly, and tell him it would be okay. No man, no matter his sins, should be denied the right to have a child. Hearing him say those words was like a knife in the heart. It made me think of lost hopes, lost dreams, and things I would never have. There was a time, a long time ago, when I dreamed of having his baby, just like I dreamed of being his wife. Now I know those things will never happen, there will be no little Stones or Adelas with my eyes and his dimples. No trips to the park, no first steps or Christmas mornings--but it doesn't make me dream of them any less.
For a long time those were the things I wanted, and I almost had them. Of course, those dreams came crashing down on a stormy November night, but for a few moments they were so real I could feel them. But now I know better and I've grown up. I've accepted that there will be things I can never have. If there weren't, I wouldn't be dying right?
"There are things you know you can't have. You lie to yourself, saying you're better off without them, you know. You make excuses. You were always pretty good at that."
"Yeah. I don't need excuses anymore. I don't have time for them."
I almost laughed when he said that. He couldn't have been more right, or at the same time, so wrong. People say I'm selfish, that the entire world revolves around me. To some extent, that's correct; I make an impact wherever I go. But they don't understand that I didn't choose to be born with a beautiful face, a generous nature, or a kind heart. I didn't choose to fall in love with Sonny or Jax. And most importantly, I didn't choose for them to fight over me.
I told myself that I was over Sonny. I'd analyzed it so many times I had lists of all the reasons Jax was right for me and Sonny was so very wrong. But the heart isn't rational and it doesn't always make sense. I would lie in bed, with Jax's arms around me, and feel Sonny running through my veins. I didn't want it to be that way. Jax deserved better, he deserved a woman who loved him and only him. For that, I will admit guilt. I could never be that woman, because no matter how many times I said I loved him and that Sonny was long gone, out of my mind and heart, it was never true.
Now I'm dying, running on borrowed time. I don't know how much longer I have and I'm tired of lies-tired of lying to the people I love-tired of lying to myself. He knew that of course; he's always known what I'm thinking. When I looked at him, through the misty rain, I saw the hunger in his eyes. I knew it matched my own. Because we both knew there were things we wanted and would never have. We were living different lives with different people, but it always come back to us. Standing there with him, the rain pouring down, I felt like the girl I once was. It didn't matter the passage of time; I could still look in his eyes be home.
He smiled a little, just a flash of his famous dimples, and cut right to the bone, asked the one question I can't answer.
"What do you need, Brenda? Would you ever tell me?"
Would I ever tell him? Ah, now that's the million-dollar question. I don't know what I want. It was easier, when I was sick, to blame my indecision on my disease. But this has nothing to do with being sick. This is about me, my heart, and a man who's haunted me from the day I've met him.
As much as I hate what Sonny's done to me, I could never hate him. Sometimes though, I can make myself believe I do. When I'm by myself I can relive every agonizing moment, every night I lost him in the rain. I feel anger, sick and sweet, running through my veins, mingling with his blood and the remnants of his soul. It makes me want to crawl out of my own skin, feeling him inside me, after all this time and all the pain. Yet, it's comforting, feeling him pulse through me, because it's something I'll never lose. No matter how many times I love again, how many times I die, he never leaves me. That comforts me, to know, in the chaos of my life, that something is constant. . .something's real.
All I ever wanted was to love him. I wanted what his mother wanted for him, to feel safe. I couldn't change all the bad things that people did to him in his life, but I wanted him to know that his heart was safe with me. He said I had a rare gift, the ability to see through the darkness of his soul and find the man inside. He thought he was a monster, but I never saw that. What I saw was a man, a flawed man, but a man nonetheless with such a tortured soul I used to cry just thinking about it. In the end I set him free. I took that battered man and turned him into someone good. I showed him what it meant to love, be loved in return; to suffer betrayal and to forgive; to laugh, to cry. . .to live.
For as long as I can remember all I've known is Sonny Corinthos. How could I not? After all, I made him. I created him, shaped him, put the finishing touches on him. He would never have existed without me. And he made me. I wouldn't have known my own strengths without him or my weaknesses; I wouldn't have known the depths of my heart or the limits of my mind. I wouldn't have known you can keep on loving someone with all your heart long after your mind tells you it's time to let go. Without him, I wouldn't have known what it's like to live.
~ * ~
I reached out, laid my palm on his cheek, and saved him again. I felt the tension seep away and a wave of peace pass over him. I knew he would be okay, at least for a little while, and when he needed saving again, I'd be right there to rescue him.
When he pulled away I didn't stop him, and I laughed when he left me alone, in the rain, for yet another time. Because I knew this wasn't it; we weren't over the way I thought we were. As long as we were both breathing, I would be there to save him, from bullets, his wife. . .but mostly himself. Some people are born to be doctors or teachers; I was born to be with Sonny.
Even though I knew he was going back to his wife, and I would go back to Jax, I realized what I needed. It wasn't what I thought, not Jax's love or Ned's friendship or the Quartermaine's family.
It was laying my hand on his cheek and feeling myself flow through him. It was looking in his eyes and seeing myself. It was the way he looked at me, like he could kiss me for days, even when he knew it wasn't possible anymore.
He's right. There are some things you can never have. I'll never have a family or a house in the country or fifty years to laugh and cry. But I'll have nights in the rain with Sonny Corinthos, and for me, that's enough.
I'm not sure what this is, but I felt compelled to write after S&B's scene in the rain Thursday. This is part one of a two part series; the first part is Brenda's perspective on their conversation and the second part will be Sonny's. I hope you enjoy.
~ * ~
"Who hears me, who understands me, becomes mine--a possession for all time."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
~ * ~
It's raining again. It seems like it's rained since the day I set foot back in Port Charles. Not a misty rain or summer shower either; it's hard and sharp and pounds the ground with a surprising fury. I haven't seen rain like this in years, five to be exact, since the day the man I loved left me to die. Or at least that's what it felt like, when he left me alone, standing in the rain.
It's always been the rain between us. Every time he's broken my heart, it's been in the rain. Doesn't matter if it was five years ago or five minutes. All I know is that if he or I are ever in the rain, alone together, I'm going to end up hurting. It's funny, having your heart ripped out. It's like losing something you didn't know you had, because no matter what you think you've been through, nothing prepares you for that kind of pain.
But that's what happens, when your entire existence depends on a man. Okay, that's a lie. Not a man, but the love of man. . .the love between a man and me. Because that was my life for five years, a world that only existed when Sonny loved me. I can't even remember if I was happy or not, because it really didn't matter. What mattered was having him in my life, being near him, knowing he loved me. . .those were the things that kept me going--and when I didn't have those things, out came a tripod-wielding psycho.
In the end I called it sick, twisted. Again, another lie. What Sonny and I had could never be sick or twisted. It was beautiful, not that I'd let him know it. When I came to him that night it wasn't regret I felt, but anger, furious anger. He was everything I'd ever known since I was eighteen-years-old. I had given him five years of my life, my youth, my dreams, my love--and he'd destroyed them. He'd destroyed me. He'd made me weak; he'd made me into someone I hated. And for his crimes, I wanted him to pay. So I took the one part of me he thought he had, my heart, and took it away. I gave it to another man, a man he hated, and made him suffer. This time there was no glass to throw, no bodyguards to abuse--this was payback, pure and simple. I'd never felt anything so sweet.
~ * ~
It's not that I don't love Jax, because I do. How could I not love my shining prince? He took a broken woman and did everything he could to make her whole again. And for his efforts, I gave him my heart. But it wasn't the same; it wasn't complete. How could it be? Sonny is a part of me; even if I wanted to, I couldn't change that. So I gave Jax what I could: my devotion, my loyalty, and what was left of my heart, and it was enough. Jax makes me strong, he makes me proud--but he doesn't make me whole.
I love Jax more than he could imagine, but not the way he thinks. I love him for the man he is, the strength he gives me, the love he shares with me--but not his heart. I love him because he tries so hard to do right by me, to make me happy, but mostly because he fails. I guess my love is mixed in with a little bit of pity, because try as he might, he can't give me what I want. What I need, but not what I want. Because I need him--but I want Sonny.
It's insane isn't it, after all that the man has put me through, that I still want him? It's been eight years, but sometimes I sit up at night and my mouth still burns from his kiss. Sometimes, in the dead of night, I reach for him and cry when I realize he's not there beside me. And then I cry harder, because I've shed enough tears for this man, I've given enough of my life to him--but I can't help myself. Because when you love someone so much you can't get past it, when it becomes as natural to you as breathing, it's a hard habit to break. Especially, when it's a habit you don't want to break.
~ * ~
When I returned to Port Charles I never thought I'd see Sonny Corinthos in the flesh. I went to St. Timothy's expecting him not to show. He's left me standing in the rain so many times before; why would that night have been any different? Except that night was different; that night he did come, and for a moment it made up for all the times he'd left me behind. That night, when I needed him so badly, needed to see him breathing one last time, he came through for me.
He looked right at me and finally I knew everything. He loved me. For a long time a part of me thought he didn't, but he did. I've always loved him and he's always loved me. After all we've been through together, all the pain and betrayal, I needed to know that. It would never stop hurting any less, but in that moment I knew our love was real. . .and that made it all worth it. But then, before I could blink, he looked right into my eyes and took his last breath. . .or at least I thought he did.
~ * ~
In all my time with him, I never thought I'd see Sonny die. If a cat has nine lives Sonny has a thousand. He's cheated death so many times it's a miracle he's still breathing. But he is breathing. . .and it isn't a miracle. It's a trick, a game, and I'm the ultimate pawn, because no matter how many times I think I won't fall for it, he gets me every time. Like when he left me at the altar I swore I would never forgive him. I went to his penthouse to hurt him, to tell him I'd given me heart to another, and I still ended up with his arms wrapped around me and his mouth on mine. I looked into his eyes that night and saw the challenge. He knew, even then, when I hated him for what he did, that I couldn't stay away. He knew that even though were over, that I had Jax in my life, hell I had the strength to pull away, I'd be back. It was only a matter of time.
I'll give myself credit; I tried to tempt fate. I thought I had Sonny Corinthos out of my system. Until that night at the church, when I watched him die. Afterwards I mourned for him, mourned him like I'd never mourned another; not Stone, my father, even Lily. I mourned losing him because it was like losing a piece of myself, because when I was eighteen-years-old, one day I was walking on the pier. I was carrying my little suitcase and this man came up to me. He asked me if I needed any help--my entire life changed in that moment. Everything I thought I knew about love turned out to be wrong. I didn't have to play games; I didn't have to become something I wasn't. All I had to do was look into Sonny Corinthos' deep, dark eyes and I was his--or he was mine--I never could figure who owned who more.
The night I found him, shot and bleeding, was the first time I realized Sonny Corinthos couldn't die, not as long as I was there to save him. I gave him my blood and in the process he captured my soul. After that night there was no going back. Because now we share blood and he is a part of me. I couldn't be rid of him if I tried.
I saved him that night and I kept right on doing it. Like when Stone and Lily died, when Mike turned up after thirty years of abandonment; when Robin told him she had HIV; or when Jason Morgan was born. But that night in the rain, when I couldn't save him, that's the only time I truly believed him dead.
Maybe it's selfish, but I didn't think he could go on without me. I know I couldn't go on without him. When I went over that cliff, felt the icy chill of water against my skin, I might have screamed Jax's name, but I saw Sonny's face.
It was Puerto Rico, the sun was setting in the sky, and he was cradling my face in his hands, whispering how much he loved me. That was what I saw when I died; it was Sonny's face on my mind. And that night in the rain, when a bullet squeezed the breath out of him, it was seeing my smile, my laugh, my face. Turns out I hadn't exorcized his ghost after all.
~ * ~
Sick and twisted, huh? Of course it is, but not in any way a normal person could understand. No one could understand us. We were two lost souls, set adrift in a lonely world. Somehow we found one another and we never looked back.
I know things are different now. I love Jax and he loves Carly, but nothing has changed between us. When I look in his eyes I still see a mirror image of myself and I still want him. I'm a bit wiser now. I know he can hurt me, will hurt me again and again, but it doesn't stop me. When the floodgates are open, it's impossible to shut them again, even if you want to.
~ * ~
The other day at the hospital I ran into him in the rain. He was standing there alone, the water pouring down around him. He looked right at me and smiled, dimples flashing.
"Sonny?"
"Hey."
"Are you okay?"
"I just found out I'm not going to be a father."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not. While you were gone, Carly and I had a baby. It died before it was born. And I realized right there, there are some things you just can't have."
It's ironic; as much pain as he's caused me in the past, it causes me more to see him hurting. When I look in his eyes I see his pain and I feel it in my soul. He always felt he didn't have the right to be loved. I struggled for so long to prove he was not only capable of love, but worthy of it too. It seems all my effort was in vain, because somewhere along the line he lost the battle. It seems his wife hasn't done much to fix that either.
It's not jealousy; I'm allowed to dislike her. She hurt people I love and I'll never forgive her for that. She says I'm a hypocrite, that we're alike, but we're not. I can admit I've hurt the people I love, but never on purpose. That's something she can never say. I want Sonny to be happy, but how can he be happy with a woman who makes him miserable? A woman who lies to him. . .a woman who betrays him. Evidently the man who always reached for the stars settled for something earthbound. I can only hope it's enough.
But I knew it wasn't enough and would never be enough. So I saved him again, the way I had so many times in the past.
"I'm-I'm sad to know that you think you're not meant to have a baby."
"No one gets everything they want, right?"
In the back of my mind something told me this was wrong, that maybe it wasn't me he wanted to confide in, but his wife or Jason. But something had pulled me to him, when I saw him standing alone in the rain. I didn't have to go out there; I didn't have to comfort him. But yet. . .I couldn't stay away and he made no effort to let me go.
I wanted to reach out to him then, when he was hurting so badly, and tell him it would be okay. No man, no matter his sins, should be denied the right to have a child. Hearing him say those words was like a knife in the heart. It made me think of lost hopes, lost dreams, and things I would never have. There was a time, a long time ago, when I dreamed of having his baby, just like I dreamed of being his wife. Now I know those things will never happen, there will be no little Stones or Adelas with my eyes and his dimples. No trips to the park, no first steps or Christmas mornings--but it doesn't make me dream of them any less.
For a long time those were the things I wanted, and I almost had them. Of course, those dreams came crashing down on a stormy November night, but for a few moments they were so real I could feel them. But now I know better and I've grown up. I've accepted that there will be things I can never have. If there weren't, I wouldn't be dying right?
"There are things you know you can't have. You lie to yourself, saying you're better off without them, you know. You make excuses. You were always pretty good at that."
"Yeah. I don't need excuses anymore. I don't have time for them."
I almost laughed when he said that. He couldn't have been more right, or at the same time, so wrong. People say I'm selfish, that the entire world revolves around me. To some extent, that's correct; I make an impact wherever I go. But they don't understand that I didn't choose to be born with a beautiful face, a generous nature, or a kind heart. I didn't choose to fall in love with Sonny or Jax. And most importantly, I didn't choose for them to fight over me.
I told myself that I was over Sonny. I'd analyzed it so many times I had lists of all the reasons Jax was right for me and Sonny was so very wrong. But the heart isn't rational and it doesn't always make sense. I would lie in bed, with Jax's arms around me, and feel Sonny running through my veins. I didn't want it to be that way. Jax deserved better, he deserved a woman who loved him and only him. For that, I will admit guilt. I could never be that woman, because no matter how many times I said I loved him and that Sonny was long gone, out of my mind and heart, it was never true.
Now I'm dying, running on borrowed time. I don't know how much longer I have and I'm tired of lies-tired of lying to the people I love-tired of lying to myself. He knew that of course; he's always known what I'm thinking. When I looked at him, through the misty rain, I saw the hunger in his eyes. I knew it matched my own. Because we both knew there were things we wanted and would never have. We were living different lives with different people, but it always come back to us. Standing there with him, the rain pouring down, I felt like the girl I once was. It didn't matter the passage of time; I could still look in his eyes be home.
He smiled a little, just a flash of his famous dimples, and cut right to the bone, asked the one question I can't answer.
"What do you need, Brenda? Would you ever tell me?"
Would I ever tell him? Ah, now that's the million-dollar question. I don't know what I want. It was easier, when I was sick, to blame my indecision on my disease. But this has nothing to do with being sick. This is about me, my heart, and a man who's haunted me from the day I've met him.
As much as I hate what Sonny's done to me, I could never hate him. Sometimes though, I can make myself believe I do. When I'm by myself I can relive every agonizing moment, every night I lost him in the rain. I feel anger, sick and sweet, running through my veins, mingling with his blood and the remnants of his soul. It makes me want to crawl out of my own skin, feeling him inside me, after all this time and all the pain. Yet, it's comforting, feeling him pulse through me, because it's something I'll never lose. No matter how many times I love again, how many times I die, he never leaves me. That comforts me, to know, in the chaos of my life, that something is constant. . .something's real.
All I ever wanted was to love him. I wanted what his mother wanted for him, to feel safe. I couldn't change all the bad things that people did to him in his life, but I wanted him to know that his heart was safe with me. He said I had a rare gift, the ability to see through the darkness of his soul and find the man inside. He thought he was a monster, but I never saw that. What I saw was a man, a flawed man, but a man nonetheless with such a tortured soul I used to cry just thinking about it. In the end I set him free. I took that battered man and turned him into someone good. I showed him what it meant to love, be loved in return; to suffer betrayal and to forgive; to laugh, to cry. . .to live.
For as long as I can remember all I've known is Sonny Corinthos. How could I not? After all, I made him. I created him, shaped him, put the finishing touches on him. He would never have existed without me. And he made me. I wouldn't have known my own strengths without him or my weaknesses; I wouldn't have known the depths of my heart or the limits of my mind. I wouldn't have known you can keep on loving someone with all your heart long after your mind tells you it's time to let go. Without him, I wouldn't have known what it's like to live.
~ * ~
I reached out, laid my palm on his cheek, and saved him again. I felt the tension seep away and a wave of peace pass over him. I knew he would be okay, at least for a little while, and when he needed saving again, I'd be right there to rescue him.
When he pulled away I didn't stop him, and I laughed when he left me alone, in the rain, for yet another time. Because I knew this wasn't it; we weren't over the way I thought we were. As long as we were both breathing, I would be there to save him, from bullets, his wife. . .but mostly himself. Some people are born to be doctors or teachers; I was born to be with Sonny.
Even though I knew he was going back to his wife, and I would go back to Jax, I realized what I needed. It wasn't what I thought, not Jax's love or Ned's friendship or the Quartermaine's family.
It was laying my hand on his cheek and feeling myself flow through him. It was looking in his eyes and seeing myself. It was the way he looked at me, like he could kiss me for days, even when he knew it wasn't possible anymore.
He's right. There are some things you can never have. I'll never have a family or a house in the country or fifty years to laugh and cry. But I'll have nights in the rain with Sonny Corinthos, and for me, that's enough.