Title: Letting Go
Author: Steph (ILUVNYYANK@aol.com)
Category: Drama
POV: Alice
Spoilers: "A Broken Heart", "The Counteragent", "The Abduction"
Rating: PG
Archive: Sure, just let me know where.
Disclaimer: Alias and its characters do not belong to me. I do this out of
a love for the show and no infringement is intended.
Summary: Alice realizes she's not the one Vaughn wants and learns how to let go.
Note: Okay, so I don't really like Alice, but I kind of feel for her. It's gotta suck when a guy like Vaughn doesn't want you anymore. So, on the show Alice is pretty clueless about Vaughn and Sydney (aka Rita), but in this story she's pretty perceptive and she realizes something. This is my story of how Alice lets go of Vaughn. Hasn't happened on the show yet, but I think that day will come! Either that, or he'll drop her like a hot potato! : ) Hope you enjoy and please let me know what you thought. Thanks! ~Steph
* * * Letting Go 1/1 * * *
~
Some of us think holding on makes us strong, but sometimes it is letting go. - Herman Hesse
~
I can't say if he ever truly loved me. Looking back, I just don't know.
I can say that I loved him, still love him, and that there were moments, perfect moments in time, when I felt truly loved.
I remember the first time I laid eyes on him. My best friend had convinced me to go on a blind date with this "really great guy" her husband knew. She told me he was handsome, funny and smart. Of course, I didn't believe her for one-second. A blind date never turns out to be the way they're described.
Except him. He was everything and more.
I remember seeing him sitting at the table in the restaurant and just freezing in the doorway. He was incredibly attractive; the kind of guy you watch from afar, never gathering the courage to actually approach. He had these soulful, piercing eyes that immediately revealed he was more than just another pretty face. But, and perhaps this was the best part of all, he had no idea how gorgeous he really was. He didn't emanate arrogance or vanity, as so many other men like him do. That was, perhaps, the most attractive part of him.
When I was finally able to leave my spot at the door and join him for our date, I found him to be just as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside. Corny, maybe, but also true.
He was incredibly intelligent, speaking effortlessly on various subjects. With any other man, I would have felt uncomfortable and inferior in his presence. But he had this way of making me feel anything but.
He was funny, too, entertaining me with stories of his childhood and college days.
I soon learned that his father died when he was a young boy and how he felt this need to take care of his mother. I added sensitive to the list.
He also had this amazing ability to just listen. With most men, they either won't shut up about themselves so that you can't even get a word in edgewise or they talk very little and then stare blankly at you as you speak.
Not with him. He was engaged while I talked, asking relevant questions, making meaningful comments. He actually cared about what I had to say.
There was one thing, though, one thing that wasn't quite right about him. He was very tight-lipped about his job working at the bureau at state. He told me little and would abruptly steer the conversation in another direction.
It was something that bothered me from the very beginning of our relationship and only grew with time. There was a piece of him, a part of his life, that I couldn't reach.
I only met one or two people from his work and he never discussed his day with me. I respected his need for privacy, even if I didn't totally understand it. In the beginning, I asked questions and tried to convince him to go out to dinner with some of his co-workers, but I soon realized I was fighting a losing battle. His answers were vague at best and he always made excuses for his co-workers. I eventually gave up.
I had only a general idea of what he actually did and I was forced to simply accept the fact that he might just leave without warning or take sudden trips.
His work weighed on his mind, too. There were times when he'd just stare blankly into space or toss and turn all night.
Even so, I fell in love with him. And I thought he fell in love with me, too. Within six months of our first date, we moved in together.
We shared some wonderful times. Days that we'd spend walking around the city just enjoying each other's company; nights when we'd curl up in front of a fire and talk or make love. Times when he'd surprise me with a homemade, candlelight dinner or a bouquet of flowers for no reason at all.
But it was always there, lurking in the background. This thing. This part of him that I just couldn't reach.
I thought I'd learned how to deal with it the best way I could, until about a year and a half ago. Around autumn last year, things got worse.
The leaving at a moment's notice and sudden trips increased. There were countless nights when he wouldn't slip a wink. There was a heaviness in his eyes, like something was weighing him down.
But there was something else, something entirely new. There was something different in him, something different in his eyes mixing with that heaviness, something in his disposition, something that had altered him. I couldn't tell what it was exactly, but something had changed.
And then I started questioning his loyalty to me. I knew the kind of man he was. I knew that he was good and kind and faithful...Deep down I knew it, but that part of him that I couldn't reach, that piece of him that separated us and that seemed to be growing with each passing moment, had chipped away at everything I thought I knew.
One late night in October, as we sat on the couch watching television, his arm wrapped around my shoulders and my head resting on his, his cell rang. That wasn't unusual in the least. I was accustomed to him receiving a call and running out the door.
But there was something different this time.
There was something in the way he removed his arm from my shoulders and moved his ever so slightly to cause me to lift my head, that made me realize there was something different about this call.
There was something in the way his eyes lit up at the sound of the voice on the other end.lit up in a way they never had at the sound of mine.
There was something in his voice, the soft, soothing way he spoke just a few words.
And that was it. That was the moment I realized I'd lost him. That was the moment that I knew that there was now so much more of him that I couldn't reach.
Then he left. It's strange to say, but I never really thought that he was having an affair. Even after that call and after his abrupt exit, I never thought he was cheating on me. Why? Because I began to piece it all together and played his demeanor during the phone call over and over again.
It wasn't that he was trying to hide it from me or that he was feeling guilty...I could tell that he hadn't yet realized what I could plainly see. This woman, this woman who was on the other end of the phone, was who had changed him, without him even realizing it. He was in love with her, but he hadn't let himself come to terms with that yet.
And that's when I knew it was over. That's when I knew that he would never be mine again, at least not completely. It took me a while to get the nerve up to break it off with him. I still loved him, but I wasn't about to be the woman he was with, rather than the woman he wanted to be with.
So, I told him it wasn't working out. I never mentioned anything about the woman and simply told him I couldn't stand being shut out of his work life any longer. He accepted it without saying a thing. I helped him pack his things and we went our separate ways.
That was it. That simple. That quick. Two years that were over in two minutes.
But I never stopped thinking about him. I could never fully let go or move on. I suppose by not being completely honest with him, I'd blown my chance at closure.
And then there we were, a couple of months later, at a mutual friend's house for a party. We found our way over to each other. It was familiar and comfortable, and it seemed like he was seeking me out.
A part of me knew that I shouldn't go back to him, let him into my heart again only to break it.
A part of me knew that he was seeking me out because he couldn't have her. For whatever reason, he couldn't have her, I realized then.
A part of me knew that I was just a substitute for the real thing; that I was simply serving as an obstacle that he seemed to need. I don't know how I knew, but I did. I knew that he wanted her and he couldn't have her, so he sought me. If he had me, then he could resist her because he was a faithful man. He would betray me with his mind and his heart, but not with his body. I knew that much and so did he.
Despite all of that, I went back to him. And I began to ignore all of the signs that his heart was with someone else. I'm not proud of it, but I sank into a deep sea of denial. I couldn't let him go. I loved him and even if he didn't love me, I wanted him. I was willing to play second- best.
Looking back, I realize how pathetic I had become. I'd lost myself in him. I'd become convinced that I didn't deserve more, that I didn't deserve to have someone who wanted me and only me. I had lost the ability to see that I was worth more. The day I almost lost him was the day things started changing for me. I was scared to death and I hurried to be by his side. While there, I met his beautiful co-worker, Rita.
Rita...This woman who was suddenly close enough to him to watch as he was rolled into emergency surgery. I'd met only a couple of his co-workers and he hardly ever spoke of them, but suddenly there was this woman standing there looking pale as a ghost and like her heart was in her stomach.
She looked like I felt. She looked like a woman who loved him.
And I knew. It was her.
I didn't let on that I knew and I concentrated on his grave condition. By some miracle, he survived and I thanked God for it. But I knew things had to change. I knew that I, we, couldn't go on like that anymore.
Then my father died and he was amazing. He was so comforting, listening to me when I needed to be listened to, holding me when I needed to be held. He was completely attentive. He was the man I fell in love with. I didn't want to let him go.
Until I saw her again. Until we saw her.
We saw her and her friend in a bar and I discreetly observed his reaction to her. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed his face light up at the sight of her. I watched her, too. Her eyes scanning him and then me. She seemed uncomfortable with my presence. I purposely touched Michael just to gauge her reaction. I could see her jaw tighten.
She was in love with him. If I had any doubts before, then they were gone. But she also gave off the same vibe that he did. They weren't two people engaged in a torrid affair, who were trying to hide it from one of their significant others.
No, instead they seemed to share this mutual understanding that there was something between them, but that they could not act on it. Her reaction to me wasn't so much of jealousy, but of a deep, painful desire to have what I had.
I kept up the charade for a while after that, until I gathered the courage to break it off with him...This time for good. I realized that we both deserved more; we deserved better. We deserved to be happy and neither of us were.
I came home from work that night to find him making dinner. He'd set the dining room table with candles and wine glasses. He smiled at me as I entered the kitchen, the smells instantly teasing my taste buds.
For a moment, I just stood there and watched him. I watched him and remembered what it was like to come home to these surprise candlelight dinners and not know...Not know that he'd rather be with her. I wanted to turn back the hands of time and freeze those moments. I wanted to live in them forever.
He must have noticed me staring blankly at him, because his smile disappeared and he took a step towards me.
"Alice, is something wrong?"
This wasn't how I wanted it to go. I wanted to eat dinner and then ease myself into the conversation. This time I was going to do it right and tell him everything, so there would be no turning back.
But things didn't go that way. I just couldn't bear the thought of sitting across from him while we ate and pretending like everything was all right.
So, I nodded my head. "Yeah, something is wrong."
His brow furrowed and he took another step towards me. I lowered my eyes and fought back the tears that were trying desperately to emerge. "Us, Michael. We're what's wrong."
I forced my eyes up to his and found his mouth hanging open. He shook his head, his voice heavy. "I know things haven't been easy for us, Alice, but I think we're doing the best we can."
"I can't do this anymore," I replied, "I thought I could. When we got back together, I thought I could ignore it but I can't."
"I know my job is tough on you, but there's nothing I can do about it. You know that."
I nodded sadly, "Yeah, I do. I know that there's this piece of you, of your life, that I can never be a part of. And I accepted that a while ago. I did the best I could to deal with that. But then something happened to you, Michael. I lost even more of you."
He lowered his gaze, as if he was starting to understand what I was talking about.
I had to swallow back a sob as I went on. "You're in love with another woman."
His head snapped up in surprise, but his eyes couldn't deny it. He swallowed hard and spoke weakly, "You think I'm having an affair?"
I shook my head. "No, not a physical one. I know you, Michael, and I know you wouldn't do that to me. But I also know that sometimes we can't control how we feel. Something changed in you last fall and I tried to deny it for too long. Now I know. I know all about Rita."
He stared at me for a moment and then said softly, "Rita."
I laughed bitterly, "I guess it's the psych minor in me kicking in. I've kind of worked out this whole scenario between you two. You can't have her. For whatever reason, you can't have her and she can't have you, despite mutual feelings. I listened to you talk to her that night on the phone last year; I watched how you changed with her. I looked at her at the hospital, so afraid that you would die. And then I watched you both in the bar. I watched you try to hide it, but you couldn't."
He ran a hand down his face and sighed in defeat. He looked me in the eyes, his eyes glassy. "She's my co-worker. We can't be together because bureau policy forbids it." He paused and then added, his voice soft and husky. "I never meant to hurt you, Alice. Nothing happened between us, I swear. I never cheated on you."
I nodded, my voice cracking as I spoke, "I know, not physically at least. But you did in your mind and in your heart. Being faithful, Michael, involves more than just a physical devotion. It means loving that person with all of you. I loved you with everything I had, with every part of me." I wiped at a tear that had escaped. "I guess, in some ways, it would be easier if this were just a physical thing. I could explain it away, say that you were just attracted to her and couldn't resist. But this is something intangible, something so deep and indefinable.And it's hard to fight something like that. So, I won't even try."
I looked into his eyes, a conflicted sea of emotion, and then took a few steps forward. I placed my hands on his face and pulled his lips towards mine for one last kiss.
Then I pulled back and looked at him. I looked at him and remembered when he was just a man who took my breath away. I never imagined he'd break my heart.
I shook my head and focused on the man that now stood before me. A small smile played across my lips. "If you love her and she makes you happy, then find a way to be with her."
He looked at me in disbelief, apparently stunned by my understanding and selfless words.
"Good-bye, Michael," I whispered, before turning on my heel and leaving.
I inhaled the cool, crisp night air as I stepped outside and wiped at a tear that was streaming down my cheek.
There was a time when I wouldn't have been strong enough to walk away from him, a time when I wouldn't have been able to simply wish him well.
There was a time when all I could do was hold on, a time when I thought that being strong meant holding on for dear life and fighting until the bitter end.
It wasn't until I learned how to let go that I realized what being strong really means.
Someday, I'll find a man who wants me and only me. Until then, I'm letting go and moving on.
***********************************THE END****************************************
Hope you enjoyed it and please let me know what you thought. Thanks! ~Steph
Author: Steph (ILUVNYYANK@aol.com)
Category: Drama
POV: Alice
Spoilers: "A Broken Heart", "The Counteragent", "The Abduction"
Rating: PG
Archive: Sure, just let me know where.
Disclaimer: Alias and its characters do not belong to me. I do this out of
a love for the show and no infringement is intended.
Summary: Alice realizes she's not the one Vaughn wants and learns how to let go.
Note: Okay, so I don't really like Alice, but I kind of feel for her. It's gotta suck when a guy like Vaughn doesn't want you anymore. So, on the show Alice is pretty clueless about Vaughn and Sydney (aka Rita), but in this story she's pretty perceptive and she realizes something. This is my story of how Alice lets go of Vaughn. Hasn't happened on the show yet, but I think that day will come! Either that, or he'll drop her like a hot potato! : ) Hope you enjoy and please let me know what you thought. Thanks! ~Steph
* * * Letting Go 1/1 * * *
~
Some of us think holding on makes us strong, but sometimes it is letting go. - Herman Hesse
~
I can't say if he ever truly loved me. Looking back, I just don't know.
I can say that I loved him, still love him, and that there were moments, perfect moments in time, when I felt truly loved.
I remember the first time I laid eyes on him. My best friend had convinced me to go on a blind date with this "really great guy" her husband knew. She told me he was handsome, funny and smart. Of course, I didn't believe her for one-second. A blind date never turns out to be the way they're described.
Except him. He was everything and more.
I remember seeing him sitting at the table in the restaurant and just freezing in the doorway. He was incredibly attractive; the kind of guy you watch from afar, never gathering the courage to actually approach. He had these soulful, piercing eyes that immediately revealed he was more than just another pretty face. But, and perhaps this was the best part of all, he had no idea how gorgeous he really was. He didn't emanate arrogance or vanity, as so many other men like him do. That was, perhaps, the most attractive part of him.
When I was finally able to leave my spot at the door and join him for our date, I found him to be just as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside. Corny, maybe, but also true.
He was incredibly intelligent, speaking effortlessly on various subjects. With any other man, I would have felt uncomfortable and inferior in his presence. But he had this way of making me feel anything but.
He was funny, too, entertaining me with stories of his childhood and college days.
I soon learned that his father died when he was a young boy and how he felt this need to take care of his mother. I added sensitive to the list.
He also had this amazing ability to just listen. With most men, they either won't shut up about themselves so that you can't even get a word in edgewise or they talk very little and then stare blankly at you as you speak.
Not with him. He was engaged while I talked, asking relevant questions, making meaningful comments. He actually cared about what I had to say.
There was one thing, though, one thing that wasn't quite right about him. He was very tight-lipped about his job working at the bureau at state. He told me little and would abruptly steer the conversation in another direction.
It was something that bothered me from the very beginning of our relationship and only grew with time. There was a piece of him, a part of his life, that I couldn't reach.
I only met one or two people from his work and he never discussed his day with me. I respected his need for privacy, even if I didn't totally understand it. In the beginning, I asked questions and tried to convince him to go out to dinner with some of his co-workers, but I soon realized I was fighting a losing battle. His answers were vague at best and he always made excuses for his co-workers. I eventually gave up.
I had only a general idea of what he actually did and I was forced to simply accept the fact that he might just leave without warning or take sudden trips.
His work weighed on his mind, too. There were times when he'd just stare blankly into space or toss and turn all night.
Even so, I fell in love with him. And I thought he fell in love with me, too. Within six months of our first date, we moved in together.
We shared some wonderful times. Days that we'd spend walking around the city just enjoying each other's company; nights when we'd curl up in front of a fire and talk or make love. Times when he'd surprise me with a homemade, candlelight dinner or a bouquet of flowers for no reason at all.
But it was always there, lurking in the background. This thing. This part of him that I just couldn't reach.
I thought I'd learned how to deal with it the best way I could, until about a year and a half ago. Around autumn last year, things got worse.
The leaving at a moment's notice and sudden trips increased. There were countless nights when he wouldn't slip a wink. There was a heaviness in his eyes, like something was weighing him down.
But there was something else, something entirely new. There was something different in him, something different in his eyes mixing with that heaviness, something in his disposition, something that had altered him. I couldn't tell what it was exactly, but something had changed.
And then I started questioning his loyalty to me. I knew the kind of man he was. I knew that he was good and kind and faithful...Deep down I knew it, but that part of him that I couldn't reach, that piece of him that separated us and that seemed to be growing with each passing moment, had chipped away at everything I thought I knew.
One late night in October, as we sat on the couch watching television, his arm wrapped around my shoulders and my head resting on his, his cell rang. That wasn't unusual in the least. I was accustomed to him receiving a call and running out the door.
But there was something different this time.
There was something in the way he removed his arm from my shoulders and moved his ever so slightly to cause me to lift my head, that made me realize there was something different about this call.
There was something in the way his eyes lit up at the sound of the voice on the other end.lit up in a way they never had at the sound of mine.
There was something in his voice, the soft, soothing way he spoke just a few words.
And that was it. That was the moment I realized I'd lost him. That was the moment that I knew that there was now so much more of him that I couldn't reach.
Then he left. It's strange to say, but I never really thought that he was having an affair. Even after that call and after his abrupt exit, I never thought he was cheating on me. Why? Because I began to piece it all together and played his demeanor during the phone call over and over again.
It wasn't that he was trying to hide it from me or that he was feeling guilty...I could tell that he hadn't yet realized what I could plainly see. This woman, this woman who was on the other end of the phone, was who had changed him, without him even realizing it. He was in love with her, but he hadn't let himself come to terms with that yet.
And that's when I knew it was over. That's when I knew that he would never be mine again, at least not completely. It took me a while to get the nerve up to break it off with him. I still loved him, but I wasn't about to be the woman he was with, rather than the woman he wanted to be with.
So, I told him it wasn't working out. I never mentioned anything about the woman and simply told him I couldn't stand being shut out of his work life any longer. He accepted it without saying a thing. I helped him pack his things and we went our separate ways.
That was it. That simple. That quick. Two years that were over in two minutes.
But I never stopped thinking about him. I could never fully let go or move on. I suppose by not being completely honest with him, I'd blown my chance at closure.
And then there we were, a couple of months later, at a mutual friend's house for a party. We found our way over to each other. It was familiar and comfortable, and it seemed like he was seeking me out.
A part of me knew that I shouldn't go back to him, let him into my heart again only to break it.
A part of me knew that he was seeking me out because he couldn't have her. For whatever reason, he couldn't have her, I realized then.
A part of me knew that I was just a substitute for the real thing; that I was simply serving as an obstacle that he seemed to need. I don't know how I knew, but I did. I knew that he wanted her and he couldn't have her, so he sought me. If he had me, then he could resist her because he was a faithful man. He would betray me with his mind and his heart, but not with his body. I knew that much and so did he.
Despite all of that, I went back to him. And I began to ignore all of the signs that his heart was with someone else. I'm not proud of it, but I sank into a deep sea of denial. I couldn't let him go. I loved him and even if he didn't love me, I wanted him. I was willing to play second- best.
Looking back, I realize how pathetic I had become. I'd lost myself in him. I'd become convinced that I didn't deserve more, that I didn't deserve to have someone who wanted me and only me. I had lost the ability to see that I was worth more. The day I almost lost him was the day things started changing for me. I was scared to death and I hurried to be by his side. While there, I met his beautiful co-worker, Rita.
Rita...This woman who was suddenly close enough to him to watch as he was rolled into emergency surgery. I'd met only a couple of his co-workers and he hardly ever spoke of them, but suddenly there was this woman standing there looking pale as a ghost and like her heart was in her stomach.
She looked like I felt. She looked like a woman who loved him.
And I knew. It was her.
I didn't let on that I knew and I concentrated on his grave condition. By some miracle, he survived and I thanked God for it. But I knew things had to change. I knew that I, we, couldn't go on like that anymore.
Then my father died and he was amazing. He was so comforting, listening to me when I needed to be listened to, holding me when I needed to be held. He was completely attentive. He was the man I fell in love with. I didn't want to let him go.
Until I saw her again. Until we saw her.
We saw her and her friend in a bar and I discreetly observed his reaction to her. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed his face light up at the sight of her. I watched her, too. Her eyes scanning him and then me. She seemed uncomfortable with my presence. I purposely touched Michael just to gauge her reaction. I could see her jaw tighten.
She was in love with him. If I had any doubts before, then they were gone. But she also gave off the same vibe that he did. They weren't two people engaged in a torrid affair, who were trying to hide it from one of their significant others.
No, instead they seemed to share this mutual understanding that there was something between them, but that they could not act on it. Her reaction to me wasn't so much of jealousy, but of a deep, painful desire to have what I had.
I kept up the charade for a while after that, until I gathered the courage to break it off with him...This time for good. I realized that we both deserved more; we deserved better. We deserved to be happy and neither of us were.
I came home from work that night to find him making dinner. He'd set the dining room table with candles and wine glasses. He smiled at me as I entered the kitchen, the smells instantly teasing my taste buds.
For a moment, I just stood there and watched him. I watched him and remembered what it was like to come home to these surprise candlelight dinners and not know...Not know that he'd rather be with her. I wanted to turn back the hands of time and freeze those moments. I wanted to live in them forever.
He must have noticed me staring blankly at him, because his smile disappeared and he took a step towards me.
"Alice, is something wrong?"
This wasn't how I wanted it to go. I wanted to eat dinner and then ease myself into the conversation. This time I was going to do it right and tell him everything, so there would be no turning back.
But things didn't go that way. I just couldn't bear the thought of sitting across from him while we ate and pretending like everything was all right.
So, I nodded my head. "Yeah, something is wrong."
His brow furrowed and he took another step towards me. I lowered my eyes and fought back the tears that were trying desperately to emerge. "Us, Michael. We're what's wrong."
I forced my eyes up to his and found his mouth hanging open. He shook his head, his voice heavy. "I know things haven't been easy for us, Alice, but I think we're doing the best we can."
"I can't do this anymore," I replied, "I thought I could. When we got back together, I thought I could ignore it but I can't."
"I know my job is tough on you, but there's nothing I can do about it. You know that."
I nodded sadly, "Yeah, I do. I know that there's this piece of you, of your life, that I can never be a part of. And I accepted that a while ago. I did the best I could to deal with that. But then something happened to you, Michael. I lost even more of you."
He lowered his gaze, as if he was starting to understand what I was talking about.
I had to swallow back a sob as I went on. "You're in love with another woman."
His head snapped up in surprise, but his eyes couldn't deny it. He swallowed hard and spoke weakly, "You think I'm having an affair?"
I shook my head. "No, not a physical one. I know you, Michael, and I know you wouldn't do that to me. But I also know that sometimes we can't control how we feel. Something changed in you last fall and I tried to deny it for too long. Now I know. I know all about Rita."
He stared at me for a moment and then said softly, "Rita."
I laughed bitterly, "I guess it's the psych minor in me kicking in. I've kind of worked out this whole scenario between you two. You can't have her. For whatever reason, you can't have her and she can't have you, despite mutual feelings. I listened to you talk to her that night on the phone last year; I watched how you changed with her. I looked at her at the hospital, so afraid that you would die. And then I watched you both in the bar. I watched you try to hide it, but you couldn't."
He ran a hand down his face and sighed in defeat. He looked me in the eyes, his eyes glassy. "She's my co-worker. We can't be together because bureau policy forbids it." He paused and then added, his voice soft and husky. "I never meant to hurt you, Alice. Nothing happened between us, I swear. I never cheated on you."
I nodded, my voice cracking as I spoke, "I know, not physically at least. But you did in your mind and in your heart. Being faithful, Michael, involves more than just a physical devotion. It means loving that person with all of you. I loved you with everything I had, with every part of me." I wiped at a tear that had escaped. "I guess, in some ways, it would be easier if this were just a physical thing. I could explain it away, say that you were just attracted to her and couldn't resist. But this is something intangible, something so deep and indefinable.And it's hard to fight something like that. So, I won't even try."
I looked into his eyes, a conflicted sea of emotion, and then took a few steps forward. I placed my hands on his face and pulled his lips towards mine for one last kiss.
Then I pulled back and looked at him. I looked at him and remembered when he was just a man who took my breath away. I never imagined he'd break my heart.
I shook my head and focused on the man that now stood before me. A small smile played across my lips. "If you love her and she makes you happy, then find a way to be with her."
He looked at me in disbelief, apparently stunned by my understanding and selfless words.
"Good-bye, Michael," I whispered, before turning on my heel and leaving.
I inhaled the cool, crisp night air as I stepped outside and wiped at a tear that was streaming down my cheek.
There was a time when I wouldn't have been strong enough to walk away from him, a time when I wouldn't have been able to simply wish him well.
There was a time when all I could do was hold on, a time when I thought that being strong meant holding on for dear life and fighting until the bitter end.
It wasn't until I learned how to let go that I realized what being strong really means.
Someday, I'll find a man who wants me and only me. Until then, I'm letting go and moving on.
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Hope you enjoyed it and please let me know what you thought. Thanks! ~Steph