Sand Castles and Fairytale Endings
Part III: Learning From Our Mistakes …
Author: Robbie (gigglgrl26@hotmail.com)
Spoilers: Up through the Season 8 finale "Lockdown." However, bare in mind I might have taken some liberties along the way.
Archive: Ask and you shall receive.
Disclaimer: While I'd love to be able to lay claim to every character in the story, not a one really belongs to me. They are the property of the big shots at NBC, Warner Brothers, Amblin Productions etc …
Summary: Further insight into the events that shaped Abby's life from her POV.
Many thanks to Sara for reading this over for me. I wuff ya!
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My life has been filled with disappointments of all shapes and sizes. There were times when I would have given anything for a moment full of happiness. Then there were times when I convinced myself I was happy and content. But it was all a game. I see that now, now that I know what happiness truly is.
Applying for college is one of the most grueling processes there is; paper after boring paper, the same information asked for over and over again. First name, middle initial, last name, birth-date, address, etc … And then you have to make hundreds of copies of high school transcripts, recommendations, samples of your writing, even test scores.
During my junior year of high school, as others around me were constantly griping about the inconvenience, I took solace. Filling out form after form of the same uniform information brought a sense of familiarity to what was a scattered and crazy life. It was constant, unchanging; something I sought with an enthused vigor. Filling out applications gave me the chance to spend some time alone and uninterrupted with my thoughts. For once, Maggie had insisted that I have quiet no matter what. In the dark solitude of my bedroom, I was able to explore the inner depths of my soul and create a game plan for my life. A life I swore to myself would be filled with success.
The papers I would mail symbolized the beginning of this new chapter of my life. They were like the escape plan I'd always craved, a plane ticket to anywhere. I had the rest of my life at my disposition. Looking back, it was a positive time. My mind was filled with childish notions that my life would suddenly change as soon as I left and become what I thought everyone else had.
I quickly learned that more grueling than the application process was the waiting game that you're forced to play after everything has been sent in. Like a six month flu bug, it hits early senior year. The symptoms aren't uniform, but most seem to show signs of it. For me, waking up breathless and shaking, heart pounding after another nightmare became normal. Not a day passed without that churning nervous feeling in my stomach each time I walked to the mailbox with shaking hands and sweaty palms.
When the first letter arrived, I wasn't sure whether to jump for joy or run to the nearest bathroom and empty the remains of my undigested lunch. All at once, my heart was pounding and I felt so lightheaded and giddy, I had to sit down. I can recall Maggie begging to take my temperature and make sure I hadn't come down with some awful disease. Sitting in our small, warm kitchen, I gently fingered the edges of the envelope and readied myself for anything. You can imagine how surprised I was when Maggie snatched the letter out of my hands, tore it open in two seconds flat and began to read the letter. I can still remember the sinking feeling of nausea that settled in my stomach as her face fell. "You're too good for that stupid place anyway," she had declared, crumpling the paper into a tiny ball.
Rejection.
It stung. Stung like hundreds of miniature needles being pressed into my body over every corner of bare space. My chest felt like the aftermath of a hundred thousand elephant stampede. Smarting tears sprung to my eyes, burning the backs of my eyelids as I struggled not to let the droplets escape.
To put it lightly, it wasn't the greatest foot to start off on. I was easily swayed into believing that my entire life was destined to be a failure. I wasn't good enough for college, but without it, my life was toast. My future went from a gooey-deluxe chocolate cake, sweet and sumptuous, into dry, stale crumbs on the floor waiting to be smashed under a tennis shoe.
It was the first time in my life that I'd let myself down. Before, it was always the fault of someone else; my mother or father, a friend, teacher, or fellow student. This time, I'd failed myself by not working hard enough, not doing well enough, not being able to get into that school. And frankly, it felt like crap.
More letters arrived, but I refused to open them. There was no point in hoping for acceptance only to re-experience the dumbfounding let-down of rejection. I think Maggie secretly opened them after I'd gone from the room. She had to have, or she never would have been able to know about that one letter that would make my future. An acceptance.
An acceptance to Penn State.
My ticket to a new life. The opening paragraph of the new chapter. My chance to make something of myself. All of a sudden the sinking feelings of despair dragging me down were lifted off my shoulders as if the letter contained one of those massive yellow cranes used for construction. Optimistic and excited Abby resumed her position in the Wyczenski household as the entire family began to make preparations. Eric and Mom preparing to cope without me and I, readying myself for the exhilarating new journey I was about to embark on.
When I first arrived, school wasn't the walk-in-the-park I'd expected. Socially, I felt lost in the crowd. My roommate was quiet and secluded; though bore an air about her that demanded respect. Though she had difficulty opening up to me, I could sense she was a very authoritative figure simply immersed in her studies without the time or energy to give a second thought to much else. I eventually learned to revere her as the reserved person she was.
Other kids around the campus were wild and crazy, unlike those I'd known in the quaint little Minnesota town I'd grown up in since infancy. Many of the girls in Pennsylvania seemed to have either a sophisticated and chic New York City look about them or they were off-the-wall hippies. The guys were either perpetually high, unrealistically preppy, or hippies. I just didn't seem to fit in very well with the general crowd. I was everything they were not. Being in a brand new place, the differences certainly didn't serve to my advantage.
Academically, on the other hand, I found the work load to be about as stressful as high school. The material wasn't much harder and the amount of work was entirely bearable. I was finally taking classes that interested and intrigued me, and found that I was able to fully absorb myself in them. By the end of the first semester, my grades were excellent, but I was lonely.
I hadn't found the time or the energy to make friends. While all the others around me had gradually developed their exclusive little cliques, I'd been studying in the library or working on my newest research paper or assignment. Even my socially detached roommate was better off than me. She'd suddenly become infatuated with a tall, blond-haired, brown-eyed hippie who'd gradually encouraged some engaging experimental behavior in her bedroom.
I craved the human companionship and camaraderie only a solid friendship could provide. I'd re-built walls around myself, not letting anybody in, and as a result, I was undeniably, seemingly unchangeably alone in my own dark little world.
And one day, as these thoughts whirred through my over-worked mind, I sat in a little coffee shop not far from the campus, on the verge of tears. I'm sure that the pitiful image brought truth to the saying 'drown your sorrows in a cup of coffee,' the slogan of the shop. The way I was sitting, looking lost and forlorn, always left me wondering why he came over to sit by me that day. He was tall, with lush blond curls, baby blue eyes, and a confident, poised and debonair manner. Couldn't he see that we were complete foils for one another?
Either he was just oblivious and didn't notice, or didn't let it stop him. He walked right up to me and pulled the seat across me out from under the table with a piercing screech. Set his elbows on the table and leaned towards me, shrugging out of his suave leather jacket. I could tell he worked out by his muscular upper arms and the faint six-pack etched beneath the folds of his cottony shirt. I can remember that all of a sudden, I felt numb, my sorrows erased, as I became entranced by the watery clear blue of his eyes. Though small, they seemed to capture the essence of the clear sky on a bright summer day and lead me into a world where there was no pain, sorrow, or emptiness.
"You're looking awfully sad for such a pretty little lady," he crooned with a slight southern drawl. Instantly, I was totally, completely, head-over-heels in love with this beautiful stranger. From there, everything sort of blossomed naturally. We began to talk and I learned that his name was Richard Lockhart. We became quick friends, and before long … something more.
I would always wonder why I picked that day and time to take a break from my work. Perhaps it was the dreariness of the northern winter that was finally getting to me, or perhaps my desperate longing for the sounds of other living, breathing beings prompted the need to be in a crowded coffee shop. I wondered whether our meeting was fated or coincidence. Had fate yet again dealt me a cruel blow? Or was my luck finally changing for the better?
In retrospect, there really isn't an answer to the question. Meeting Richard was exactly what I needed at that point in my life. He gave me companionship, an open ear for discussion on a lonely night and a hand to hold in the darkness. He led me out of the dark and into a place that was so much happier and gave me such a blissful sense of fullness with my new life. Even if I didn't have absolutely everything I wanted, I made myself believe it was enough and I was happy.
With Richard by my side, the rest of college whizzed past. Our platonic friendship slowly developed into a steady romantic relationship as I felt myself falling in love with my beautiful stranger. The next thing I knew, we were at college graduation, throwing our caps into the air as Richard pulled me close to him and whispered a quiet proposal into my ear. My world was set into slow motion as he produced a ring from the pocket of his suit and slipped it onto my finger.
We were married in July of that summer in a small ceremony in a South Carolinian country club owned by friends of his parents. We'd both taken an extreme interest in the medical profession, and come fall planned to go on to medical school. As we spent our honeymoon in Orlando, Florida a week later, I made a decision that I would always regret.
As something in my life that was always important but was never able to complete, medical school could be considered one of my failures. The saddest part of the story is that the major issue was and always has been money. Since my sophomore year of college, I've known that I wanted to go into medicine. But after my marriage to Richard, money was very tight. He and I agreed that I would go through the quicker nurse training and get a job to support him through medical school. Once he got a job, I could go back to school supported by him.
This was one of the first in a series of decisions I made that would prove to be fatal to our short-lived happiness. In my efforts to keep Richard content, I went out of my way so far, the real meaning of things became lost. Merely to keep him happy, I lost track of what was important to me to achieve and forced myself to abandon and forget all the goals I'd previously set. In that way, the decay of our marriage was as much my fault as it was fates.
There are things in life that you just can't change. You do the very best you possibly can, but that's all you can do. You can also learn to make do with what you have. Sometimes, elaborating on what's there can set a more wholesome approach on things. With Richard and me, things started out so well but silently turned sour without us noticing.
Things became less about the love we shared and more about mundane inanimate objects of no real value; save monetary. Small problems such as a broken glass or spilled milk turned into full blown arguments and fights. But it took me too long to realize that life is too short to spend that way. By the time I learned to value each moment on earth as it truly should be, our situation was beyond repair.
Deep in depression, I used to wonder what the purpose of my chance meeting with Richard really was in the grand scheme of things. I wondered what the point of my glimpse into contentment that was so swiftly taken out from under me really was. I figured that it would have been better never to be happy at all than to know what I was truly missing out on.
But, now, as I watch my girls bringing as much truth as they can to their fantasies through the sand castle, I understand. I believe now, that everything that happens is for a reason. Richard was the first person who truly taught me to love and instilled in me the value of sacrifice for those that we love. And as our relationship became tainted with bitterness, and I made mistakes that cost us dearly, I also learned the limits of these values.
As we grew apart, I learned the true depths of what sorrow could do to a person. Together, we were at our worst. But things have worked out. And with our separate significant others, we're now at our best, having benefited from the mistakes we made the first time around.
Fate knows what its doing.
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I realize that this is sort of a weird place to end this chapter, but if people are still interested, I'd like to take the next chapter and delve into the problems with Richard and Abby's marriage. Let me know what you think! Feedback is appreciated …
