Do you ever want to feel something so strongly that you just want the thrust yourself into traffic? I mean I know it would hurt like a bitch but that's kind of the point. Feeling just to feel is better than becoming completely numb because numbness is the emptiest feeling on this planet. I spent my entire life growing up numbly until I met Brittany. It's funny because I used to love feeling numb. I loved not relying on anyone but me. But now I'm throwing myself into traffic every day by walking into that diner. Brittany works from 6pm to close every weekday and occasionally picks up the morning shift on Sunday. Most days she has her hair up in a tight ponytail and she always, always has a smile on her face. I'm pretty sure that I feel everything when I walk into the diner every day at 6:30pm. I feel excited. I feel scared. I feel hurt. I feel sorrow. I feel regret. I feel hopeful. And every day when I'm greeted at 6:35pm and asked to 'follow this way' I still feel the invisible handcuffs hand keep us forever bonded tightly pulling at my wrist.
Legend has it that Santana Lopez was born a snarky bitch that lacked feelings of any kind. Rumor has it that Santana Lopez has grown a heart in the pit of despair that is her chest.
Three weeks ago Brittany was my waitress and ever since whenever she sees me walk into the diner she rushes over from whatever it is she's doing to seat me. I laugh as she almost spills coffee onto some old women to excuse herself from the table to walk in my direction. It's something that is simply Brittany and the smile on her face as she greets me speaks a million words and no words at all.
For the past three weeks I've restrained myself from anything but small talk with her. She brings my coffee and I smile and nod a thank you. She brings out my salad and I ask for extra dressing and she leaves to go get it. She brings it out with an apologetic looks because she always forgets to bring it initially.
The past three weeks have been a robotic dance between us. We ignore the fact that I send her lingering glances every once in a while. We never speak about anything but the weather, or work. We pretend that she doesn't always look slightly confused about knowing me from somewhere, and I by no means ever, and I mean ever, ask about the lipstick stained napkin that she keeps in her pocket next to her notepad.
"Follow this way," she says grinning as we walk to the third table from the end, the one next to the window.
It's the one with the good napkin holder I've come to realize because people often ask if they can borrow my napkins. It's the one she seats me at every day as I promptly sit down at 6:38pm.
I don't say anything as she sets a glass of water in front of the seat that I always take. She walks away to put in my order without me having to say anything.
Call me insane, but I can't help but think she feels something too when I'm around. Maybe the handcuffs aren't so invisible. Maybe she can see them and feel them the same way I do. Maybe she feels the metal cutting at her wrists threatening to make the bleed whenever we're apart. Or maybe I'm an idiot who clings to her wishful thinking far too much… But why else would she bother waiting on me every day? Why wouldn't she let Quinn, or someone else take my order? Call me insane, but I'm pretty sure my plan is working. Slowly. Like a turtle race. But working nonetheless.
She comes back to set my salad in front of me and I can't help but notice the bracelet on her wrist; her side of the cuffs. I self-consciously move my own hand under the table and thank her for the salad as I grab a napkin and fiddle with my phone to look busy.
You know those silly gifts you start to buy for someone once you start dating? The ones you really have no idea why the hell you bought until you're handing them off with a shy smirk on your face? Santana Lopez never did things like that. Okay that's a lie, she did once…
"What is it? What is it? What is it?" Brittany asks me while jumping up and down like a toddler.
Sometimes I don't understand why I hate kids so much considering she still is one.
"If I told you that would defeat the purpose of me learning how to wrap the damn box now, wouldn't it?" I tell her in a motherly tone.
Which now that I think about it is kind of creepy, you know, comparing us to mother and child when my plan for the night is to get her naked and have my way with her multiple times.
She sends me a glare and I wink, like I always do, as I watch her open the box. It's kind of stupid that I had to Google how to wrap it considering the jeweler told me he could have done it but it would have been an extra fifteen bucks and I was spending enough money anyway. I kind of cringe as she tears off the paper since I spent almost two hours wrapped the devil box but the cringe disappears when a smile breaks out onto her face.
"Two bracelets, San? One for each wrist, right?" she asks me holding both silver heart charmed bracelets up grinning ear to ear.
I laugh and shake my head, "No, B. One is for you and one is for me. Like we match and stuff," I say almost shyly because now that I've given it to her it seems really stupid and Hallmarky and I am anything but… well I mean I am kind of now but that isn't the point.
"Oh so it's kind of like handcuffs then? Well not really cause they aren't connected but it means we're connected. Like a super cool invisible bond or something," Brittany explains to me while walking over to put the second bracelet onto my wrist.
"I love it, Santana. It's really cute. Really thoughtful. Really mushy and nice," she tells me and I'm sure I frown, "Which means I've made you go soft, I approve," she laughs pecking me quickly on the lips before stepping away to put her own bracelet on.
Santana Lopez gone soft, that's a joke… right?
You ever feel something too much that you just wish you could freeze time for a second so you could just calm your tits? I mean sure feeling is good because it means you're not some psychopath but feeling too much sucks. Almost sucks enough that when I left the diner I skipped a day before going back. Not necessarily because I wasn't hungry or didn't want to see Brittany but mostly because I was worried to how she was going to react with what I left the day before…
She came back to refill my drink singing this weird song quietly. It's weird but I guess I shouldn't be surprised considering its Brittany. But it's a song about a cup so… it's just weird.
"My cup, my cup, sayin' what's up to my cup!" she sings softly.
She places the cup back down in front of me and takes my now empty salad plate. I'm pretty sure she asks me if I'd like anything else and I just shake my head as I watch the heart on her bracelet sway with her movements. I keep my hand under the table in my lap and my eyes glued to hers.
"I'll be right back with your check then, San," she says walking away with a confused look on her face.
Have I told her my name? She called me San. San. San is a nickname for Santana. Even if somehow she had heard my name or if I told her without remembering a stranger wouldn't all of the sudden use a nickname. When I meet someone named Ashley I wouldn't call them Ash right away. Actually I probably wouldn't care about her name and I'd make some clever name up for her but… she called me San.
I pull my wallet out of my purse and grab a twenty and a ten and set it on the table for when Brittany comes back. I always give her a big tip mostly because I know waitresses don't make shit and because she's Brittany so I'd hand her a hundred if she asked for it.
I grab a napkin and unclasp my bracelet from my wrist and place it on top of the napkin. I redo the clasp and lay the heart charm flat against the table. I reach for my lipstick in my purse and I open it. I tap the handle a few times thinking of what to write on the napkin this time.
I scribble, "One for each wrist," and place a second napkin on top of the bracelet so that the blond won't be able to see it once she comes back.
I pull out my mirror and reapply my lipstick to look less suspicious to the people around me and I put them both away as Brittany walks back over to my table.
She comes back and takes the money and I just smile saying that I don't need to see the bill and that I hope she has a good night. She smiles softly and crinkles her nose telling me goodbye as I walk toward the door. I stop before leaving to see her pick up the napkin and I walk out before seeing her reaction.
Handcuffs are tricky. Escaping them is near impossible if they're secured properly. Breaking them is near impossible unless you're some freak with super human strength and even then you still have the cuffs clasped on your wrists. Gnawing and chewing at them does no damage to the cuffs themselves, only to you. Struggling only cuts at your wrists and pains you.
Bottom line, if you get cuffed, you're stuck. It's worse because you never even get to choose who you're cuffed to. It just happens. It's like there's this plan all laid out for you and whoever you're cuffed to you're just stuck with. Doesn't matter if you love them or grow to hate them. You're stuck. Somehow they will always be pulling at your wrist. Cutting it every now and again to draw blood and make you ache. The pain is constant and there is no way out.
There isn't a key. That's the trick. They purposely don't make keys. There are two cuffs and no keys and you're stuck.
Love is binding. Love is tricky. Love is being locked together to someone for eternity never being able to escape. Love is never being able to run because you become attached to someone else. There is not a way around it. You will always be pulled. You will always be cut. And you are always going to ache because of it. There is no lock. There is no key. There is just love, and you're fucking stuck.
I suck at updating lately, I apologize. Life has thrown me a few curve balls but it's summer now and I've graduated high school so I have a lot more time on my hands to write. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, don't forget to review :]