Pairing: Rory/Jess
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters but I do own the idea and the words.
Author's Note: I hadn't written the letter that Jess wrote to Rory....as you guys can imagine it was really difficult to write....but someone in a review said the story wouldn't be complete without it and that struck a nerve. So here it is....
Rory,
In this brief, quiet moment to myself there is a longing that threatens to split me in two. It is greater than yesterday or any day ever before. The image of you radiant and exquisitely beautiful, intoxicating me with your mere presence invades my mind, destroying all rational thought. There is a torrent of emotions that I keep concealed so that we can play this charade, but I feel as if I am losing. Losing you and losing my mind in the process.
But I suppose I lost you months ago...
I heard the news of your grandfather's death just a few minutes ago and I can think of little else. They say it was a stroke. They say that you were standing next to him. But these are the same people who talk in idleness to make their lives more exciting and gossip to fill that internal endless void, so perhaps what they are saying is false. I want the news to be false and for your world to remain perfect but....
I want many things.
I have never met your grandfather and yet his death causes much distress because I am fully aware of the hurt and pain it brings to you. To think of you in all your innocence and beauty being in the presence of something so dark and powerful is quite disturbing for me. What is it about innocence that makes someone as tainted and jaded as I am want, need to protect it?
I suppose there are some who enjoy the process of corruption, and perhaps you thought or think that I am one of those people, but you would be wrong. I forever want your innocence, the blush in your cheeks, your laughter that plays like music, the love in your eyes to remain. Even if I am not the one you are blush, smiling, laughing, or looking at.
The memory of the first time we met, do you even remember it, suddenly is in my thoughts...that is actually a lie; it is never away from my thoughts. My introduction to you and your world is burned in my memory and I wear it like a scar. It is a reminder of a foolish aspiration, to be yours and yours alone.
I remember how easily you smiled at me when my eyes first fell on you. I know that sounds like nothing, but I come from a world and a place where no one smiles. That smile told me how different we were, but also how much I wanted you...how much I wanted that smile to be for me only.
And your eyes....I could write pages and pages about them. Electrical Blue. That is what I call their color because that is what I felt when I first looked into them, a rush of electricity that left me weak and helpless. I remember all this with clarity because nothing like it has ever happened to me before and I doubt it will ever occur again.
Even then, in that first instant I wanted you. Does that sound ridiculous or cheesy? It does to me.
But my point, my original point, was that I want you forever to remain in that innocent light. To live in your perfect world filled with love and laughter and easy smiles that you give to dark strangers that they hold onto for their rest of their days. You belong there....in a world without pain and without death.
But there are no such worlds.
And even the genuinely good people must face the only truth in life, that we and all those we love are mortal and will die. A statement so simple and yet infinitely complex. People spend their entire lives denying this truth, but it is in vain. You will die. I will die. There is nothing earth shattering or depressing with these truths because these are things that I came to terms with long ago....you had to if you lived where I lived.
But you, sweet Rory, have never lost someone you love, never felt your heart break in your chest and yet keep beating, never wanted to scream at the polite formalities of death... there are so many things that you have never done that I wish to protect you from but cannot. Although I have never asked or investigated this, I am sure of it. There is something in the eyes of those who have lost someone they have loved, a pain that exists in their hearts that can be seen.........something you do not have and I never wish you to have.
This is why your grandfather's death is upsetting me to the point where I feel like throwing the chair I am sitting in out of the window and onto the street. Because you are, to me, everything that is all and good in life. Everything I want and will never have. And knowing that you are hurting at this very moment that I am writing this to you and being able to do nothing about it, causes an actual physical ache in my chest.
I am aching for you.
It feels empty writing this to you knowing that you will never read these words. Like I am at an amazing concert, but I don't know the words to any of the songs that are being played. It hurts wishing you were here next to me. Wishing I was holding you instead of this pen.
But this was how you wanted it...I have to remind my self that sometimes, that you wanted it to be this way. That you wanted Dean and not me. I guess that is what this letter is really about and not your grandfather's death. The rejection is still fresh on my mind and seeing you daily with him, smiling that smile I would kill for with eyes dream about only fuels this endless longing that torments me. I guess it doesn't really matter now. In comparison to death, matters of the heart seem trivial and so juvenile.
But even as I write that I know that to be false. Love, true love, is worth fighting for and worth dying for and is indeed the basis of all life. For what kind of person lives without loving anyone or anything? A person with no soul.
I guess that means you have given me my soul, sweet Rory...for you have given me love. And even after you have rejected and humiliated me, I love you still. Your grandfather's death has only reinforced this fact, because I am unable to shake your grief from my thoughts.
But this love is bittersweet because I love alone. I seem to do everything alone. But I can close my eyes and you are there, smiling with those blue eyes that break my heart. It will have to be enough.
Jess
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters but I do own the idea and the words.
Author's Note: I hadn't written the letter that Jess wrote to Rory....as you guys can imagine it was really difficult to write....but someone in a review said the story wouldn't be complete without it and that struck a nerve. So here it is....
Rory,
In this brief, quiet moment to myself there is a longing that threatens to split me in two. It is greater than yesterday or any day ever before. The image of you radiant and exquisitely beautiful, intoxicating me with your mere presence invades my mind, destroying all rational thought. There is a torrent of emotions that I keep concealed so that we can play this charade, but I feel as if I am losing. Losing you and losing my mind in the process.
But I suppose I lost you months ago...
I heard the news of your grandfather's death just a few minutes ago and I can think of little else. They say it was a stroke. They say that you were standing next to him. But these are the same people who talk in idleness to make their lives more exciting and gossip to fill that internal endless void, so perhaps what they are saying is false. I want the news to be false and for your world to remain perfect but....
I want many things.
I have never met your grandfather and yet his death causes much distress because I am fully aware of the hurt and pain it brings to you. To think of you in all your innocence and beauty being in the presence of something so dark and powerful is quite disturbing for me. What is it about innocence that makes someone as tainted and jaded as I am want, need to protect it?
I suppose there are some who enjoy the process of corruption, and perhaps you thought or think that I am one of those people, but you would be wrong. I forever want your innocence, the blush in your cheeks, your laughter that plays like music, the love in your eyes to remain. Even if I am not the one you are blush, smiling, laughing, or looking at.
The memory of the first time we met, do you even remember it, suddenly is in my thoughts...that is actually a lie; it is never away from my thoughts. My introduction to you and your world is burned in my memory and I wear it like a scar. It is a reminder of a foolish aspiration, to be yours and yours alone.
I remember how easily you smiled at me when my eyes first fell on you. I know that sounds like nothing, but I come from a world and a place where no one smiles. That smile told me how different we were, but also how much I wanted you...how much I wanted that smile to be for me only.
And your eyes....I could write pages and pages about them. Electrical Blue. That is what I call their color because that is what I felt when I first looked into them, a rush of electricity that left me weak and helpless. I remember all this with clarity because nothing like it has ever happened to me before and I doubt it will ever occur again.
Even then, in that first instant I wanted you. Does that sound ridiculous or cheesy? It does to me.
But my point, my original point, was that I want you forever to remain in that innocent light. To live in your perfect world filled with love and laughter and easy smiles that you give to dark strangers that they hold onto for their rest of their days. You belong there....in a world without pain and without death.
But there are no such worlds.
And even the genuinely good people must face the only truth in life, that we and all those we love are mortal and will die. A statement so simple and yet infinitely complex. People spend their entire lives denying this truth, but it is in vain. You will die. I will die. There is nothing earth shattering or depressing with these truths because these are things that I came to terms with long ago....you had to if you lived where I lived.
But you, sweet Rory, have never lost someone you love, never felt your heart break in your chest and yet keep beating, never wanted to scream at the polite formalities of death... there are so many things that you have never done that I wish to protect you from but cannot. Although I have never asked or investigated this, I am sure of it. There is something in the eyes of those who have lost someone they have loved, a pain that exists in their hearts that can be seen.........something you do not have and I never wish you to have.
This is why your grandfather's death is upsetting me to the point where I feel like throwing the chair I am sitting in out of the window and onto the street. Because you are, to me, everything that is all and good in life. Everything I want and will never have. And knowing that you are hurting at this very moment that I am writing this to you and being able to do nothing about it, causes an actual physical ache in my chest.
I am aching for you.
It feels empty writing this to you knowing that you will never read these words. Like I am at an amazing concert, but I don't know the words to any of the songs that are being played. It hurts wishing you were here next to me. Wishing I was holding you instead of this pen.
But this was how you wanted it...I have to remind my self that sometimes, that you wanted it to be this way. That you wanted Dean and not me. I guess that is what this letter is really about and not your grandfather's death. The rejection is still fresh on my mind and seeing you daily with him, smiling that smile I would kill for with eyes dream about only fuels this endless longing that torments me. I guess it doesn't really matter now. In comparison to death, matters of the heart seem trivial and so juvenile.
But even as I write that I know that to be false. Love, true love, is worth fighting for and worth dying for and is indeed the basis of all life. For what kind of person lives without loving anyone or anything? A person with no soul.
I guess that means you have given me my soul, sweet Rory...for you have given me love. And even after you have rejected and humiliated me, I love you still. Your grandfather's death has only reinforced this fact, because I am unable to shake your grief from my thoughts.
But this love is bittersweet because I love alone. I seem to do everything alone. But I can close my eyes and you are there, smiling with those blue eyes that break my heart. It will have to be enough.
Jess