Thanks for all your reviews; this is only my second story so I'm still very new at this! For those of you asking about the 72 hours vs. Trey situation, I am in the UK and we haven't actually seen the last few episodes yet, I'm going from general spoilers so thanks for pointing it out. I assumed she would have known. So in this story, Kirsten knows the bare details. I'm also a very sporadic writer, so I won't be updating like once a week or whatever. It'll just be when I've written the next one. That said, enjoy!
Sandy
Hey sweetie, how are you holding up? They treating you ok? I know it's hard, but you can do it right? The richest girl in Newport Beach who had little trouble slumming it in a mail truck back in Berkeley? No problem for her. But then again, maybe that's the problem. Maybe you aren't her anymore. Just like I'm not the same person as I was back then. I think that's what Rebecca reminded me of, the past. I think people tend to idealise certain aspects of the past, and I think to me, Berkeley was my Golden Era. And while you were a big part of it, you weren't all of it, and it's the rest of it that Rebecca reminded me of. No one in Newport has ever really made an effort once they found out I was from the Bronx, and the ones who did didn't really share anything in common with me. I mean, Rebecca and I always had similar interests, which meant we hardly ever argued, so it seemed like we were a good couple, but it lacked the… passion, the fire, that comes with it. I needed closure, but it was wrong of me to do that when it was becoming at the cost of our relationship, our marriage. I realise this is probably not a topic you want to hear about, and you know me, always diving in at the deep end, but I think it needs to be said. And we haven't talked, I mean really talked, for too long.
Keep working at it, babe. I you don't want to, but the rehab will help. I'll be so proud of you. I love you. I promise, if it helps you get through this quicker, that I won't sing "If I Were a Rich Man" and songs from the entire Grease collection at the dinner table. No promises about "Good Morning Sunshine" though, because, come on, that's a classic. If Clay Aiken sang it, you'd love it! I always think of you waking up every morning, with your mussed up blonde hair, cute little button nose that I miss kissing, the way your pyjamas fall on your hips, and I think of you all alone, and I miss you so much Kirsten.
Was it me? I mean, were things so bad, you couldn't talk to me about it? I know I was a prick over the Rebecca situation, but I thought things between us got better. But they didn't did they? They haven't been right really since Ryan and Seth left last summer, and that's too long. I guess other things came up, and we never really dealt with us. Boy, when you get home there's going to be so many people queuing up to spend time with you, to make amends with. But you'll give me priority, right? All I want to do is hold you, and make everything better, but things aren't that simple. I know it won't be easy coming back at first, but you hurt people, and you can't just make that go away. I remember, how hurt you were over Rebecca, and that's how I feel now, that you didn't trust me enough to talk to me, or that you didn't even realise that you had a problem. You said some harsh things to Ryan, and he's in a fragile state. You need to make it up big time to him. But it's not my place to tell you how to do that.
I don't want to focus on the negatives too much. I found this poem, and I think this applies to us.
Not a red rose or a satin heart.
Because we're not superficial, we're not materialistic. What we have, it's real.
I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
Like the careful undressing of love.
You are my onion. The light of my life, and all the romantic connotations that come with it. The goodness of you wrapped inside a gorgeous body. The intimacy, physical and emotional, that we share. You're the only one who can knock down my walls, and I like to think that I am the only who can do this to you too.
Here.
It will blind you with tears
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.
But like onions, you have layers. (Like ogres. Remember from Shrek? One of the movies you stayed awake through? But I hasten to add I'm not comparing you to ogres my darling, beautiful wife. Honestly!). When you left after the intervention, I cried. I'll admit it (although it would be nice if you didn't spread it around, because, as you know, I'm all man). You are the only person who can affect me so much. Sometimes, now that you're gone, I find it hard to function, to breathe without you. You're like oxygen to me baby. I look at our wedding photo, and my eyes blur so you look out of shape, not yourself. Maybe that reflects how I see you at the moment. I want the proper photo back. Help me put it back together, Kirsten. I need it, I need you.
I am trying to be truthful.
Not a cute card or kissogram.
Truth is what we avoid too much. A simple gesture won't go far enough any more. We used to tell each other everything. Let's go back to that, eh?
I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.
You are my onion. I hope I am yours. Tempted, but never stray, remember? I saw you looking at Carter, I saw a bit of me in him, but I hope my fierce kiss stayed on your lips. Remember in college when we were first dating, and I took you too that beautiful park, and carved "Sandy & Kirsten 4ever" on a tree? When you're out, I'll take you up there, because babe, it's you and me, always and forever. Just like the song. You can't get rid of me that easily.
Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding ring,
if you like.
Our love bound us together, in marriage, but I believe we are intertwined, one cannot live without the other. Is this true? Do you feel this? You're probably thinking what a romantic sap I am, but I want you to get through this, and I feel so helpless sweetheart. You never felt trapped in our marriage, did you? I mean, we have been in ruts, but we've always managed to conquer them. Right?
Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife
My love for you sometimes scares me. Because I know I would do anything, anything for you. But this reminds me of the ability of love to damage and hurt others. I know you were lashing out because you were scared, and you felt alone, but everyone's hurting. You're hurting, I'm hurting, Seth's hurting, and Ryan most of all is hurting. Get better babe, so you can come back and we can sort this out.
I love you, Kirsten Cohen. Always remember that. And know that you can conquer rehab, because you can, and because I believe in you.
Love, always and forever
Sandy
Xxxxxxx
P.S. We found the take out menus, crisis averted. Oh, one more thing, do you know what my password is for that law website. I think it was either Topol, misssaigon, or allthatjazz, but you only get 2 tries then it blocks your account. Thanks! Love you xxx