Sorry - v. long note here, I was rather hyper! You can ignore it.
Summary: The rehab scene. The thoughts ofSandy-Kirsten
Disclaimer: Guess...I own zip!
OK so I gave in and watched the finale! I am a terrible person! I haven't seen epi 18 yet but OMG it was too much! Can't believe I cried over Caleb but I did. And I love that song that played then and at the end, it was set just right to the action. I also loved how when they had it on you heard that above the dialogue and sometimes it was silent with just the song now. That was really effective. Like in Saving Private Ryan where explosions are happening but it's silent. What a FABULOUS episode I'm crying and it's making my legs shaky it's so exciting. (well that could be the fact it is like 1am in the morning and I am dead tired!) Just watching the last bit, it should not make me cry this much! Sandy leaving Kirsten was sooo amazingly done. And Ryan's face when Seth tells him! Woah! OMGOMGOMGOMG SHELLSHOCKED. That's the only word for it! I am NEVER gonna sleep now! That was just…. The final sequence. The acting. You could see their thoughts on their faces. Marissa and Trey especially. The camera angle sweeping to Seth and Summer was really effective too! What a completely and utterly amazing, fantastic, terrible, heartbreaking episode. What a finale! Cathartic (to quote my eng lit course – purging of emotions) Roll on season 3 but how can they top that? Gotta love the O.C. bitch!
Will stop rambling now!
Oh yeah, one thing…I heard what Sandy said before he left wrong, that's why it's 'We can mend this thing, isn't me that's gonna break,' not 'We can bend this thing, doesn't mean it's gonna break.'
Just my ears and it kinda worked so I left it! Please read and review!
It is silent in the car. She doesn't want to do this, I don't want to do this, but we have to.
The silence is strange, not wholly unpleasant; not the silence of the summer, not the silence after we fight, not the silence of the past few days as he watched me helplessly as I drank and drifted away from him, just silence.
There aren't any words for a time like this. At least I don't have any. I said the important things at the intervention; she knows I love her and that I'm sorry.
I don't think I can actually get out of the car. I can't do this. But I do. I climb out, it's like a dream.
I'm watching her, afraid she can't do this. She's come this far but she could still fight. Turn around and say no. The alcohol-fuelled anger isn't so far below the surface, it's lost in cloud of tears, guilt and regret right now but she could still flip out. Change her mind, make a scene. I think perhaps I could cope with that, it's her breaking down I can't handle. If she cries and begs me I won't be able to do it. Please don't do it Kirsten.
I can't look at Sandy; I'm only just in control as it is. I look at the ground. I can't believe I'm having to do this, it's so humiliating. I catch his eyes, 'holy awkward' as Seth would say.
She's looking at me, large, scared, hurt, haunted eyes. She's right on the edge. Her gaze is killing me, she looks away. Is it cruel to feel relief? I just hate to see her like this.
…
So this is it. Where I'll spend the next god-knows how long. That's what scares me. I don't know how long I'll be here for. There's no date and time where everything just goes back to normal. Sandy's words are really sinking in now, 'You don't just snap your fingers and make something like this disappear.' This is bigger than that. But what if I can't beat this? What if I'm here forever?
She's panicking now, I can see it. Every movement she makes is careful and precise, if she hesitates for a moment she'll be lost. That's how I feel; lost. I'm way out of my depth here. Kirsten's always been so strong, in control; it's almost frightening to see her like this. I just stand uneasily as she shuffles around me.
Ah..it's a good sized bed.
Good sized bed? I'm not going to be sleeping Sandy.
I nod, mouth dry, choking silently on my tears. Large enough to be lonely and cry myself to sleep in.
Wish I could share it with you. I wish I didn't have to leave you, I wish…
How can I sleep? I don't sleep without you.
I won't be sleeping, I can't sleep without her, it's just wrong.
Ooh, nice sheets; high thread count.
As if I really give a toss about the thread count right now.
Nice TV, lot of channels…
I'm running out of things to say.
I can't speak. I just nod again and again as he comments on the room. The effort it takes to keep myself together is making me tremble.
I bet you'll get a lot of reading done here.
He's babbling now, it's obvious. Reading? Really Sandy.
Reading? Why did I just say that? I sound like a fool. But she knows what I mean.
Reading. Yeah. I know how he's talking like this because he doesn't know what to say.
What the hell am I supposed to say? You never plan for this kind of event, it never featured in my 'worst case scenarios', never. I don't know what to say, how to act. I love my wife, I love my kids, I work, I surf, I do not know what to do in this kind of situation.
Neither of us knows what to say. So he rambles intermittently and I stay silent. I can't speak. Where he can't say all the things he wants to say I can hardly form words. He doesn't have to; I know what he's trying to say. He shouldn't have to be saying them at all.
I shouldn't be doing this.
I shouldn't be doing this.
I shouldn't have to be doing this. Not to Kirsten, not to my Kirsten. I should have been able to do this myself.
He shouldn't have to be doing this.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
This isn't my life.
Why is this happening? At what point did fate suddenly decide to tip us all upside down?
Where did I go wrong? Where did I change from enjoying a regular drink to swigging vodka from the bottle?
What happened? She's a Wasp living in Orange County, she's practically a Newpsie; she's bound to drink, being drunk is a common state of affairs for these people. How come Kirsten tilted the scale?
I can hear Sandy's words; 'For God's sake Kirsten, use a glass,'
I can hear my biting reply echoing in my head; 'For God's sake Sandy, leave me alone,'
The things I said, haunting me. The guilt is overpowering.
The last through days run through my head like a bad film on fast-forward. The painful realisation she was drinking, the fights, the accident, that horrible moment when Julie said the words I knew would shatter Kirsten, my failure to comfort her, to help her, her face at the intervention.
That will haunt me for life.
Everything I've put him through. Why? Why did I do it? How?
How can he still love me? Why does he?
How could I do this?
How could I let her do this?
Why didn't I stop myself?
Why didn't I realise earlier? Stop her? Help her?
…
There's a knock on the door. A woman enters. I blink, trying to focus. Sandy looks at me reassuringly but I'm too far away. It's as though I can't hear anything but manage to understand everything she's saying it all its complete and utter devastation. I breathe in sharply as she says it, Sandy is taken aback too, I can tell. It just makes this all the more real.
I'm taken by surprise by the words, I never really thought about it, not the reality of rehab; not that we'd be apart, unable to even speak for so long. It's a harsh awakening.
72 hours.
72 hours. 72 hours. What can I say to that?
Alone for that long. Never hearing his voice. I can't do it.
I want to scream. I can't I can't I can't
Her eyes are trembling like two green leaves, how can I do this? How can I leave her?
72 hours.
That's a hell of a long time.
Don't think we've been apart that long, ever.
Not without seeing, talking, touching.
72 hours
3 days
72 hours
4320 minutes
72 hours
259200 seconds
72 hours
An infinite number of moments until I can hear her voice again, see her face, taste her lips, hold her close.
I don't think I can go that long without Sandy, seriously. I need him that much. At least I know that this part will be as hard for him as for me. We need each other, all the time.
…
Detox
Oh.
The word hardly makes a sound. It doesn't need to. It doesn't matter.
That's how I feel. One single, solitary oh.
I don't know what to say. My voice is gravelly when I finally speak.
Could you give us just a minute?
A MINUTE? A minute is an inconceivably short time for anything. Let alone a goodbye, an apology, everything that needs to be said.
A single minute. A minute, a moment to say goodbye. Tick, tock, time is ticking.
Not long enough, not enough time, not in comparison to the endless, painful lonely minutes that are going to follow.
I turn back to her, trying and failing to stop the desperate look in my eyes. I don't want to upset her by letting her know how much this hurts, but she knows. At least she knows we're sharing this, part of it anyway.
Oh Sandy. There aren't words for this kind of thing. We just look. Eyes can say everything for now.
I'm frozen, she is too. We're both just stood, staring at each other, just comprehending what we've just heard. I look at her. The fear is obvious on her face. I look away and then back again, speechless.
I have to look away, I can't look at him any longer, can't meet his eyes. I'm too ashamed. My eyes flick up and then down again before catching his and he holds my gaze again. I guess my expression is as desperate as his.
What do I say? I can't speak. This is too hard.
I have to speak. I have to say it now. Try to put a tiny piece of everything that is wrong back together.
I'm so sorry Sandy,
What I said to you, put you through
My voice is choked; the tears I won't let fall evident in my voice.
I watch her face; she's beautiful, so beautiful, even when she's broken. I come close, need to be close, these last few moments we have together.
He's close, his presence reassuring and heartbreaking at the same time. God I love him.
We can mend this thing
I nod. I want to believe him. Have to if things can ever be right again.
It isn't me that's gonna break
I watch his eyes. His honest blue eyes, passionately bright and filled with love
You're not going to break but I might.
I have to do this. But how can I do this alone, without Sandy?
I follow her out of the room, my heart aching as I see her immediately turn to check I'm still there.
I can hardly breathe. I know what happens next.
This is it. This is goodbye. This is where I leave you.
He holds my face in his hands and kisses me but I don't feel it. I don't feel anything. I can't, I'm dying inside.
I want to freeze right now. His lips warm against mine. A thousand thoughts passing through my head in that single moment.
I want to hit the pause button. STOP right now.
Stay like this. Don't carry on. Not him leaving, not this meeting. Not those 72 killing hours. Not the dreaded detox. Not tomorrow and the day after and the day after that without alcohol, without Sandy.
How can I survive without both?
How can I survive without her?
Can we rewind please?
Can we start again please?
I don't want to be here. I want to be six years old again. I want to be at prom. I want to be in college with Sandy. I want to be dancing with him, marrying him, living with him, having Seth, meeting Ryan.
Not now. I don't want it to be now.
Go away. Turn back the clock. Rewind. Rewind. Rewind.
Please just stop. Stop the world spinning. I want it to rotate on its axis backwards, stop at the day we met, not the day I take her to a rehabilitation clinic.
It's not happening. It's still now, this is still happening.
This is really happening, no reprieve.
I have to fight sobs as he kisses me.
I try to stop my lips trembling, my body shaking, the tears from falling. He mustn't know.
This is hard, so hard. I can feel her fighting her feelings with every breath. She doesn't want to break down in front of me. She doesn't want to break our kiss with a heartbreaking sob. She won't let herself cry because she knows it will hurt me.
He breaks away just in time; before the sob catches in my throat and chokes me. Before the sheer effort of not crying actually stops me breathing. Before I cry into his kiss.
…
I let my arms slide down her shoulders, lingering desperately. I don't want to let go.
I can't do this. I can't let him go. I can't see him walk away from me. He's not leaving me, he's saving me from myself but I can't do it. I cling to his fingers, knowing I have to let them go.
I feel her frantic fingers. Why is this so hard? How can something hurt so much? She relaxes her hold, lets my fingers slide through hers. This is it.
Almost, almost, gone. Our fingertips finally graze past each other, it's like something out of a movie, but this has no happy ending. This is goodbye.
…
I walk away, my shoulders sagging, feet and heart heavy. I've failed my wife. I've failed to save my Kirsten. It's no use saying it was impossible, that I couldn't do it alone, I failed her. I walk away, tired and defeated, but not broken.
I have hope.
My everything is walking away, walking like he has a great weight to carry. He does, it's me.
I pause; I have to see her face one last time for God knows how long. It's not the image of her I want in my head but it's there now. It reminds me nothing is perfect. It reminds me love hurts. But it reminds me it's worth it. This kind of love is worth everything.
I love you, I love you, I love you. And you love me. I have nothing left but that. My strength is your love. That's what forced me here and it will get me through this.
You look so small, so vulnerable stood there, the hand you kissed towards me faltering as I turn again.
My face crumples but I hold on until he's gone. He's helping me I remind myself. He's leaving and it's killing me, but it's preferable to killing myself and killing them all in the process. I turn too, it's time to go figure out how to get my life back…