Be Still My Heart, This Could Be A Brand New Start

You saw her from a distance, too far for most to be able to distinguish her, but you could. You always could. Something about the way she moved, confident and graceful. Drawing your eyes to her, because you know, you could never keep them off her. At first you weren't so sure it really was her, she had been gone too long, and your grief was still raw within. Still a pulsating ache in the area that you supposed your heart would be, if it didn't feel like it had been ripped from your chest with that last whispered word, that last kiss. So when you saw her and the heart you didn't realise you still had jumped into your throat, you told yourself it wasn't her. That you were seeing things. Because lately, you had been. Lately, every face that swam into view through the tears and alcohol was hers. It always had been.

Maybe that was why when the figure you couldn't bear to give a name, just in case you were wrong again, when it got near enough to distinguish the features and you realised it really was her that you froze. It was that which prompted an echo of hesitation from her. Even still, you couldn't name her. Couldn't voice the name that had been swimming through your head for the past weeks. Just in case. Because who was to say this wasn't a dream too? You certainly couldn't, it was hard for you to say anything for certain anymore, anything but "I love her" and " I miss her".

So perhaps, when the moment finally came, and she stood before you, that was why you didn't touch her, and didn't speak. Scared to shatter the fragile dream world your mind had conjured before you. Feeling, that if you reached out and touched her, she would dissolve. Flow back into the wind, back into the sand that seeped between your toes. Even now, you still don't know quite what you thought. To tell the truth, you don't even know if you thought at all, not rationally at least. More a series of ohpleasegodletitbeher or some variation on that theme. And when she was standing there, eyes glistening with tears and biting her lip the same way she always did, looking larger than life and oh so touchable, all you could see were flashes of memory. An image of her hair splayed over the pillow next to you, cascading across your arm where it circled her head. And you remember, vividly, the smell and the touch of it, the contrast of blonde silk on your tanned skin. You remember thinking, that you were touched by heaven in that moment, the gods had nothing on this, on her. Your personal angel.

And that was why the first thing you managed to stutter as you lost yourself in her blue eyes, was "angel".

Because then, you knew for sure that she was real, that she was there, and that she had come back to you. And that was the only way you could think to say hello, that was the only way you could greet her, the only word that promised never to let her go.

She stood there for a moment shocked, before her face softened with understanding. She always understood, maybe that was why you were so in love with her. Then she touched your cheek, fingertips grazing softly over trembling skin and your world exploded. It took every piece of will power, and some that you didn't know you had not to sweep her into your arms right then and never let go. But you had to know, why she came back, what had changed. Your heart thumped, alive again and nearly bursting with emotion, still, you didn't say anything else. It was her move.

"Marissa, I.."

She trailed off, biting her lip again, making it flush cherry red, and you thought you might have a heart attack right then. Confusion clouded in her eyes and you wanted to touch her, let her know it was ok, that you would listen. A voice inside said not to move, not to speak, let her explain herself, it was her who left you after all. But there's only so much will power one person could have, and your life's supply had just run out. Fingers intertwined in a familiar action that had never felt more extraordinary. For the first time since she left, you smiled and meant it.

"I spoke to Ryan."

Doubt flutters in your mind, what did he say? Oh please let him not have screwed this up, because at this point, when you can't trust yourself, when you can't trust in the two of you, well how can you trust in anything. Even white knight Ryan. But then, with her fingers in the palm of your hand, soft, delicate and vulnerable, you felt the anger coming back. It was her who left. Her who destroyed it all. And no matter how hard you tried to focus on the face in front of you the memory of her walking away from you, saying goodbye to you lingered and replaying again and again, like it has so many times before. You didn't know what to say and so you didn't say anything. Simply untangled your hand from hers in a swift motion. Not smoothly, not gracefully, abrupt and angry.

"Babe, don't"

Hearing her say that snapped you out of it. All of a sudden you were back in reality and Marissa Cooper once again. You knew you would only have one chance at this, but it didn't bother you, because there were things that needed to be said, despite owed apologies.

"Don't call me babe."

Shock and pain registers on her face, as if you had slapped her, and a part of you wished you had. Wished that you had felt the sting in your palm and watched the purple and red bruise her perfect complexion, her perfect face.

"You left me Alex. I gave you everything I had to give and it wasn't enough. You left."

Even then it hurt to hear it out loud again, to give it substance and form in the air around you.

"Marissa, I spoke to Ryan, and he's a good guy. He helped me realise that if it's him you will always have a place for in your heart that's ok. He deserves it and I can live with it. I love you, and I'm not letting you go."

Her eyes burnt with a fervour, or so it seemed, and right then you saw her in your arms again, in love with you. But then the image changed, and once more you heard her say goodbye and turn her back to you. You knew then, that as much as you loved her, you couldn't do it again, you couldn't lose her a second time.

"You left."

"Christ Marissa I know I left, and I'm sorry. I truly am."

She took a step closer grabbing your thin wrist in hers, skin twisting under her fingers. And you pondered breaking those fingers as you felt them there, burning into you skin, marking you. Anger surged again. Anger, pain, frustration and grief, and you shouted at her.

" You fucking LEFT. You left me, I loved you, you were everything. Everything Alex. And you threw it away. Because you were jealous? I didn't do anything to deserve that. Do you know how much it fucking hurt? To watch the one person who understood me, who loved me for who I was and not because I needed saving, to watch that person, to watch you, walk away? It hurt. It hurt so much I didn't think I could breathe, so no Alex, sorry isn't enough this time."

So you stood there, panting, chest heaving from your outburst, so close to her that you could feel her breath on your eyelashes and at that moment, you could swear you hated her.

That was when she walked away for the second time.