Chapter 10
…
"Would you look at that? This is the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life… Quick! Take a picture or something. Sent it to me with a caption about Santana being completely whipped."
"Oh yeah, I'll definitely will. Plus, look at Brittany, she's being so protective yet looking so peaceful! This is adorable. See how Santana is snuggled on her shoulder? If Brittany wasn't in a hospital gown you'd be doubting who's hurt in the first place."
"Yeah okay, but look at Santana, even though Britt's arms are surrounding hers, she's like watching over Britt in her own way. Look at how she lays so carefully, making sure she's not hurting B in any way."
"Let's just agree they're both adorable."
"Yes, I agree. Now take that picture before the devil awakes."
…
There's like a very far corner in my conscious processing that there's a conversation going on, but I'm still too fast asleep to wake up for it. Besides, it's too much heaven, snuggled in with Brittany right now. There will be a moment I will care about that conversation … but not yet.
…
It's quiet again. I don't know how much times has passed, but I start to wake up. I grab my phone that's on the table to look at the time. It's almost 9am. Huh, I thought Quinn and Mike were going to come over before school? And I thought my mom would've been here by now?
I turn around, trying to get a better look at my surroundings. There's a card on the table, neatly placed near to where my phone was. It has Brittany's name on it. I'm guessing it's from the Glee club. Mike and Quinn probably did pass by, but didn't wake us up. That's nice. The more Britt can sleep right now, the faster she'll heal.
I try to slowly get out of the bed, one limb at a time. I'm trying to be really careful, to not wake her up. When I succeed in doing that, I quickly go to the restroom, relieving my bladder. Once my mind has woken up, I remember a particular conversation going on this morning. Those little … ugh.
I quickly pick up my phone to text Quinn I'll destroy her phone if she ever shows somebody the pictures Mike took on his phone from us. I mention she's also very welcome to send that message through to Mike too.
After I sent that, I text my mom, asking her where she is. Plus, she did ask me to notify if me or Brittany woke up.
It doesn't take long to receive an answer from her. She says she's in the hospital cafeteria, grabbing breakfast for me and Britt. I'm glad and grateful for that. I'm actually starving right now. If I'm being completely honest… I haven't eaten a proper meal, since I saw Brittany collapse in the nurse room.
Once my mother gave me some food, I'm uncertain to wake Brittany up or not…. I don't. Good thing I didn't, because she slept until late in the afternoon. Once woken up, I convince her to eat something. She fell back asleep after only five minutes. I'm not worried. My father says it's perfectly normal to sleep so much. Her body needs a lot of energy to heal … everything, and sleep is the best medicine for healing, if it all comes down to it.
Brittany needs to stay at the hospital for at least another week. It's good and bad news. Good, because that gives the police and my mother some time to figure out this situation. Bad news, because I'm not allowed to sleep at the hospital anymore. Plus, my parents (which Brittany 100% agreed with) asked me to go back to school. Brittany even threatened she wouldn't talk to me anymore if she saw me during school hours. She claims she'll just sleep anyway. That's boring.
I don't agree with the boring part. Even in her sleep she'll never get me bored. But yeah, education, school, you know the drill. Important for the future. Pff, nonsense. Okay not nonsense, just … yeah whatever. I will have a talk with her though. Once's she up and about. She can't threaten to just cut me out of her life if she doesn't get her way. It's not fair. If I'm angry and want her to do something she doesn't want, I won't suddenly threaten her with never forgiving her or never talking to her anymore. She can't use that threat every time we're having a disagreement… Anyway, that's a talk for another day.
It's almost a week after she woke up now. Days go incredibly slow… Ever watched a snail move for longer than a minute? Well, try do that for thirty minutes. That's how slow time went. Luckily, lots of positive things happened in that time.
We found out Brittany will have a full recovery, no eternal damage done. She'll just have to wait some time to do extreme sports like dancing, motocross or something that asks a lot of your body. Hah, yeah right, like she'll ever do something reckless as motorcross. Nonetheless, other than that, there should be no problems.
My mother had lots of paperwork with the police done. The police did interrogate Brittany. However, because of their previous work (other witnesses like the nurse at high school, Sue, other teachers who noticed things sometimes … not that that was a lot, or anything at all. But still. Yet, the most important one was Jack. He did confess a lot and had some interesting things to say once he figured out Susan was going to flee with Charlotte), things went rather quickly once Brittany gave her statement.
They also gave Charlotte and Brittany the opportunity to go to a trauma coach. Charlotte went either way, my mom sort of decided it for her. She seems to like it. They made an agreement. If there comes a time somebody would notice she doesn't like it at all (or she mentions it herself), than she can stop at any moment.
She already went two times, the second time a police officer came with, to scribble down any conflicts that's not in common with Brittany's or Jacks statements. It's like this whole thing where they can't legally use Charlie's statements, but they can legally use what's been told to checkup some facts or something. I don't really know the logistics about it.
Either way, Susan and Jack will officially go to jail in charge of domestic violence. Susan will get a psychiatrists too, Jack can choose himself if he takes one or not. It doesn't matter what or how. Most important thing is, they'll be gone for a long time. We'll see after that, but by then Brittany and Charlotte will have both grown into adulthood for a long time already.
Brittany doesn't really talk that much about what happened in the past. With anyone. She shares some snippets here and there with me or my parents, but besides the long statement she gave the police, she stays silent about it. I understand that. Although I do hope she'll consider going to a trauma coach. She's still dragging so much heaviness with her…
A big part went away when the official statement of her parents came out. But a problem doesn't disappear just because the visible factor is gone.
She's just so … insecure. She feels guilty about every little thing she does wrong. The other day, she accidently gave me an elbow bump. It took me half an hour to convince her I'm not mad and she shouldn't feel guilty. Things like that happen. People are clumsy, I'll get over it.
It's just … it's this whole new side of Brittany I haven't seen before. I'm glad she doesn't feel the need any more to hide it, but it must take so much energy for her to feel this way over every little thing… I really blame her parents for that. If the conversation I overheard was any indication, then Susan and Jack must have talked down to her a lot. If you get talked down like that as a child over and over again, how could you possible grow any confidence?
It's so sad to see. I give her endless speeches about how beautiful she is. Even so, I don't feel like she believes me. Not at all.
So yeah, I do hope she'll be able to ask some help in the near future. Or at least realise how wrong she is about herself, thinking not being worth one penny!
Nevertheless, first things first. This evening she'll get released from the hospital! The Glee club wanted to wait for her at the exit from the hospital, but I asked what she wanted and that was not it. She preferred to just have a quiet night at home, getting settled in the real world a bit again. One small step at a time.
Oh wait! I haven't told the most important part. It's about Charlotte and Brittany's living arrangements. So, one of the things I did figure out, is that Brittany didn't really say anything about her situation, because she was afraid that would get her and Charlie split up. Or worse, her mother would have thrown her out of the household, which would have ended up Charlie alone with those two monsters. Both options were far from ideal, so that was a not done situation.
Luckily my parents came to the rescue. They first greatly discussed it with me, hesitant to see what I thought of the situation. With good reason, it took me some time to get fine with the idea …
Their proposition was to let Brittany live with Quinn and her mother Judy. They would get financial help from the state. Plus a big part of Jack and Susan's money will get transferred equally to Brittany and Charlotte when they're older. If the proposition would get the okay, then Judy would be able to work less.
The police department was very sorry for the corrupt drama… it really was a part of the reason this situation could stay awake for so long. They feel guilty for good reason! If Brittany could have had any believe Susan wouldn't manipulate them right into her hands, than she may have stepped to them way earlier. But no, of course Britt knew stepping to the police wouldn't end well for her … or Charlotte.
Also, this situation isn't the only one that is coming above water about the corruptly men in the police department. Many clients of Susan walk around free in this world because of that. Susan got the money, because she was the lawyer … She got paid by both sides. And the police had … I don't know, less paperwork? Less fear for Susan's wrath? I don't want to know.
Either way, the financial help is welcome. Once they're 18 they will get full access to their inheritance from their parents. Plus, the people who will become the legal guardians of Brittany and Charlotte will get some extra support from the state. In that way, Judy can give more attention towards Quinn and Brittany. Plus, taking care of an eight year old is a full time job on its own.
At first I was disappointed when I heard that proposition. I was hoping my parents would offer to let them stay with us. I even asked them if they weighed down that option, which they said they did. But… they thought it wasn't the best option, since both my parents have a fulltime job, and are in a less good position to slow down their job at the moment. And if I wanted to start a relationship with Brittany, then they thought it's not really the best option to start living together. We're still teenagers after all. Living together when you're still in high school at the beginning of a blossoming relationship … could be a lot.
After some time I understood where they were coming from…. Didn't make a difference that they were welcomed with Snixx into their house for the rest of that day.
So yeah, Charlotte is already fully settled in the Fabray household. Got her own room and all that. She choose pink to paint her walls with. I'm sure she'll regret that in a few years… Her problem I guess.
Brittany will sleep in Quinn's room for now. They have a bureau on the downstairs floor. But that one needs some cleaning up, before they can make it into a full on bedroom.
Luckily for that, Brittany is allowed to sleep over at my place for a few nights first. Poor Quinn couldn't survive to sleep in the same room with somebody else for more than two nights
… I made her make the suggestion. She was okay with it. She's in seventh heaven her mother is going to be more home soon. And she fell in love with Britt's little sister too. I don't blame her, Charlotte is like impossible to not like.
I shrug my thoughts away. I'm driving Brittany to my place. We've just made a quick stop at Judy's house, her home. She's sitting in the side seat of my car. My fingers twitch to reach out to her, but I'm at a difficult crosspoint. I need to have my full attention on the road for now. But … she looks a bit stressed. Her mouth is set in a hard line and her head is hanging low. She always, always looks out of the window, staring at things we pass on the street.
I think I get her mood. We promised Charlotte to take a look at her new room in Judy's house. She's already calling it 'home' and 'my room'. I don't think Britt is at that stage yet. I'm guessing after seeing Charlotte's stuff in a different house … things started to really sink in she's getting a new home.
Part of me is glad she didn't need to do the whole moving her stuff thing from her old house (the Glee club took it upon themselves to help clean up and move the Pierce-household when she was still in a coma. Quinn and I did Brittany's more … private stuff).
Seeing your little sister in a new household, feeling at home in a new house … I can't even imagine what that must feel like… She'll never have to see her mother or stepfather again. Which is great … although she just lost whatever image she has of a blood-related family household.
I put my car in lock. We've arrived at my place. Her motions seem a bit robotic, stepping out of the car and walking inside … I decide to let her do for now. Let her think in peace. I stay downstairs, while she puts her stuff away in my room.
After a few minutes I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. She sits herself down next to me, on the couch. She looks a bit dazed. We don't really talk. We just cuddle, until my mom calls out dinner's ready.
My parents made sure they were home this evening, making a homemade meal to enjoy with the four of us… I take her hand and pull ourself towards the table. We take a seat, before everybody starts eating their meal. After a few minutes Brittany lays down her knife and fork, and speaks up.
"So, I uh, I wanted to say some things."
Three pairs of eyes move towards Brittany, giving her their full attention.
She clears her throat, looking over to my dad. "I wanted to thank all of you, from the bottom of my heart. I want to thank you, Victor, for making sure I survived my injuries in the best possible way I could imagine. I'm so grateful that I won't have any long term problems from the stabbing or those … other ones. I want to thank you to rush towards our school to look out for me."
She turns her gaze towards my mother now. "I want to thank Maribel, for being there for me. For being a maternal parent figure for me. For making sure Susan and Jack got what they deserved. And most of all, I want to thank you for being able to not get Charlotte and me getting separated into the system." She pauses for a second, switching her view from my mom to my father. "I am forever grateful for you two. I'll be in your depth forever. I hope I can do something in return sometime. Because I don't think you have any idea of how much the things you did, mean to my life… to Charlotte's life."
Now she turns her body around, putting her hand on my leg. "And last but not least, I want to thank you Santana. I … I don't even have any words. I thank you for listening to the whispers my body where telling you. I want to thank you for not giving up on me, even if it seems like you were talking to a wall sometimes. I'm just … thank you for being here for me. I hope you know, that as long as you don't give me the red light, I'll love you in any way possible."
Her voice wavers. "I'm just … I don't deserve any of you three, but I am forever grateful you've been there."
At this point all of us have tears running down our cheeks. All four of us know what happened and wished Brittany didn't have to go through such pains. But her speech … god I love this woman…
My mom is the first one to react. She runs over towards our side of the table and gives Brittany a big hug, whispering in her ear she of course deserved this saving and that they are grateful themselves they could be of some sort of meaning for her.
It's my father who mumbles between his teeth, something between the lines that they already see her as a second daughter, so it was just common sense to do what they did. At that Brittany expresses her gratitude again.
The rest of the meal is spent in a peaceful quietness. Only the clattering from the cutlery is a knowledge I haven't gone deaf. It's not awkward. We all realise things could've been even worse… Things could've been better. But it is the way it is. And we're grateful for each other… isn't that the most important thing?
Once we're all finished eating, my mom orders us to go upstairs, enjoy our freedom. My papi has a night shift and my mother will take care of cleaning up the kitchen.
I'm happy to finally have some peace and quiet with Brittany alone. No plain white hospital walls. No nurses walking in and out every thirty minutes. No hospital food. No small bed to live in with two. Just … home.
Brittany takes a seat on my bed. I take a small leap, putting myself next to her. The sheets jump up a bit at my motion. She fidgets with her fingers again, a common sign there's something on her mind she's trying to verbalize. I stay quiet, knowing it's the easiest way to let her find her wording.
"Hey San?"
She takes my hand between both her hands, caressing the inside of my palm mindlessly. A shiver rips its way up my spine at her motion. Yeah?"
"What … what are we doing?" Her voice sounds really insecure.
I frown a bit at that. I'm not really seeing what she's aiming at. "Uhm, what do you mean Britt?"
"I mean … So … we kissed a few times now, without really knowing or expressing what's going on between us." My hand tickles a bit, but I keep still. I don't want to interrupt her in any way. "We both acknowledges we like each other, even unofficial telling we might feel something more. So I was wondering … what are we to each other?"
I turn my body a bit more towards her, positioning myself cross-legged on the bed. I chew on my lip. "Well … what do you want us to be?" I try to observe her motions as accurate as possible.
She mirrors my actions and kicks off her shoes. We're both sitting completely on my bed now, cross-legged. Bright crystal blue eyes are looking directly into mine, trying to weigh off what I'm thinking.
"I want …" She clears her throat, a small blush is forming on her cheeks. "I want you to be my girlfriend San. I just, I'm feeling so insecure. And I know you've already told me a thousand times I shouldn't feel this way. Especially if it comes down to us. But I do. And I'm trying. I'm trying to express how I feel about you. I know …" She takes in a sharp breath. "I know I love you, I just can't say it on its own yet… you know what I mean? I want to know that you know how I feel, but I can't put it in an official framework yet, because I feel so exposed."
My heart flutters. It jumped out of my chest, bonded with hers and then went back into me, forever linked with hers. I know it sounds cheesy, but have you heard her speech? She's trying so hard to let me in. I'm so so proud of her. And I'm so so happy to hear I'm not alone in this whole feelings thing!
I grab both her hands, staring intensely to her. "Britt. I love you."
She blushes like crazy at that, but stays silent. I try again.
"Brittany, I love you. And it's okay, I'm fine that you can't say it in the way that feels like an official thing for you yet. I'm really happy you did express this to me though. You're making steps, I'm so proud of you for that. You're so strong. And …" At this point her eyes bore into mine. "…I would really love it if I got to say I'm your girlfriend and you're mine."
Her eyes lit up at that. "Really?!" Her eyes are glowing right now. "YES! Okay, I'm taking you out on a date. An official date. Where both of us know it's a date." A playful look comes into place. "You know, where two people hang out and …"
I hit her gently on the arm, barely able to stop my own laughing. "Oh shut up, don't laugh at me."
She doesn't really stop laughing after my empty threat, so I figure there are other ways to distract her. I let go of her hands to push her gently on to the bed. I try to be mindful of her back, but as long as there's not too much pressure on it, she'll be fine (she says). I give her a tender kiss, which makes her laughing die down almost immediately.
She gives a small protest when I stop giving her mouth that much attention, but she quickly stops once I give her neck some much needed treatment.
When we're both getting into it, I suddenly get brutally snapped back to reality. It must be one of the first time I put such close attention on her neck, without her having put on any concealer. My gaze gets stuck. The things I see, made my conscious move right back into reality.
There are still some distant dots on her neck from that time she got hurt a few weeks ago. It was the reason she wore that scarf for a whole week… I can't believe there are still traces to that long ago. Of her getting hurt.
Guilt starts rushing through my veins again, blaming myself for so much. Why didn't I see it before? Why did I ran, when her mother was clearly not in the right mind to get left alone with her? Why did I allow for her to get hurt? Why …
Brittany puts her pointer finger on my chin, trying to struck me out of my daze. "San? … hey hey, San? Where did you go?"
I push myself up on my elbows, looking at a startled Brittany. Her pupils are more dilated and darker than normal. Her breathing is faster than a minute before. Her hair looks a bit messed up too. But besides that, I see worry all over her face. Worry towards me… Which is making me guilty too.
"San, please talk to me? What's going on?" There's a pleading tone in her voice.
I let my body fall down next to her, having a small break down. "I'm just … I'm so sorry Brittany." It takes every part of willpower in me to not burst out in tears.
Now it's her who's leaning onto one of her arms, stroking me gently with the other one. I hear confusion lacing through her voice. "What are you sorry for?"
"I… I should have looked out better for you. I should have seen the signs. I should have helped you. I should have helped you, but I was too stupid to do anything." My voice wavers. "I should have listened to myself the moment I was thinking something strange was happening to you. But I let my own insecurities take the better of me." I hang my head low, tracing unfamiliar patterns in the bed sheet. "…Instead of listening to my instinct, I let doubt of being wrong get the upper hand. And I just … I feel so guilty."
She doesn't answer immediately. She just keeps stroking my arm. After some time, she gently pulls me closer, giving me a very comforting hug.
"Santana. You know I don't blame you right? You know you did nothing wrong?" My ears peek up, she sounds so determined right now. "I decided to not let you in. I decided to not tell anybody about my situation. It was not your responsibility to figure it out. Which you still did, by the way." She waits until I look her directly in the eyes. "You were brave enough to ask me that question, if somebody hurt me." She gives me a quizzical look. "So I don't really understand your guilt San? You did everything you could in your power. It's not your fault … or responsibility to carry my burden, if I didn't gave you any knowledge about it."
I start crying at that. Like the ugly crying. With the hick-ups and painful stomach aches. I pull my fists into her T-shirt, trying to find some grounding. "I know people say it's not my responsibility. But I wanted to help you so bad. I just didn't know how. And I hate myself that it took myself more than a year to discover that something wrong was going on. But you're such a good damn actress. And if I didn't swallow in my own shit, I would've seen it. I could've helped you earlier. And I hate myself for not being able to help, I really do." At this point the tears just start coming in a flood, something I barely do.
She grabs me by my waits, pulling me even closer. She nuzzles her nose in my shoulder for a moment, which makes her mumbling almost impossible to understand. "See but that's the thing San. You can only help someone if they let you in. I wasn't ready to let anybody in. It's as simple as that."
I dare peek a quick look at her face, seeing if I don't see any hidden anger or blame in her face… There's none. "I … I can understand a bit what you're saying. But … what about …"
I start mumbling indescribable words. After some more hushing sounds from her and me taking a few deep breaths I'm able to speak again. "What about that morning? I was in your house. I saw your mother was angry. I knew she hurt you too. And I ran. I RAN! How can you ever forgive me for that? If I didn't run, maybe you wouldn't have get hurt so badly." I rub my eyes, hopelessly trying to keep the tears at bay.
"Oh Sanny." She takes my hands, keeping me from hurting my eyes further. She takes a deep breath.
"But see, San. I … I'm only going to say this once. But … I did have a plan. I knew in the back of my mind something drastically needed to happen in order to convince the police… or at least the good guys, that my mother was the mastermind of their … way of raising their children." She softly strokes my arms in a hypnotizing way. She takes another breath, preparing herself for some sort of impact. "If I only got caught with fresh bruises, then she could have manipulated the police again and she would've win the case again. Saying I hurt myself or something. So I figured … the only way to get the police find out there are some serious problems going on … was her being caught out in action. So … I sort of … let her … stab me…
I wiggle my hands free, jumping up at the end of her statement. "WHAT?!"
She puts a hand up, trying to silence me. "Wait San let me finish this story."
I mumble a few Spanish curse words before settling down again. After seeing I'll be silent, she starts explaining the story further.
"I was hoping somebody would have called the police because of the screaming. And if nobody did, than I figured you would've called someone. In that way they would have seen what was happening inside the house. My mother and Jack know me, but I've got to know them too during the years. I know if she hurts me at moments when she's not actually feeling angry, like in that moment, she acts … shocked. She wasn't angry, because her mind was focused on the plan of running away with Charlotte. That's the plan, and nothing else mattered at that time…" she stares blankly at me for a second. "… Anyway. Every time she hurts me when she's not fully conceived by anger, she'll always feel shock right after the act. It wasn't any different that time. After she … stabbed me, she fell down on her knees with me and just started crying. I don't remember that much, but she was still next to me when I heard the sirens outside before I lost my conscious."
I try to take in a deep, calming breath. I'm trying to make sense of her logic. "So … the only way of getting the police at your side was by creating your own crime scene where your mother was the bad guy?" I ask, trying to make sense of her story and finding a way into her thinking.
"Yeah. So Santana, this is why you shouldn't feel guilty. Not for one moment." She stands up too, stopping next to me. "Yes I had a plan. No I didn't need you inside the house for that plan. No, I wouldn't have forgiven you if you stayed in that house. I know maybe you could manage seeing that fight escalate between my mom and I, but Charlotte would get haunted by that image forever. I don't want a life with heaviness around her forever. I know she'll get her mountains to climb. But … she doesn't have that much visual evidence of what happened in that house. I think it'll help her immensely to get over this as soon as possible. So San…" She wipes away my falling tears. "I am forever grateful you trusted me and ran away with Charlotte that morning. And, you know how I said my mo.., Susan, had a part of the police wrapped around her fingers? That's not a lie. I've tried to walk to the police, a long time ago. It didn't work. She made sure of that. So I thought it better to hide it from you. If you knew, then what would you have done?"
"I would have helped you! In any way I thought I could!" I wave my hands around, trying to convince of … I don't know what I'm trying …
She interrupts me anyway, there's a sullen edge to her voice. "They threatened your parents jobs San! They threatened to hurt you! They threatened to make sure your parents would have needed to move to a city far away from here! I didn't want to lose you. I really didn't. I know you think you haven't helped me in anyway. But you did. You made me have faith. You made me hold on. You put a smile on my face when I thought I didn't deserve it." She gives me gentle pecks all over my face, every time she makes another statement. "You made my heart melt with every little kind gesture you made towards me. You made me forget my pain, just by being around me. So I beg you San, don't ever feel guilty for anything about this situation. Because none of this?" Her speech stops for a minute, giving me a small kiss on my lips. "None of this is your fault. The only thing I feel towards you about this situation, is gratefulness. "
I try to really let her words sink in. Seeing me trying to process her story, she starts kissing me again. She gently pushes me down on the bed again. Now it's her who's rolling herself on top of me. A warmth spreads through my entire body. I'm sick of talking about my insecurities for now.
I put my hands on both her cheeks. "You're crazy you know that? I'm going to say it a million times. What your parents did to you … it's awful and you shouldn't have to had that experience in your life … I do think there were other solutions then the one you came up with … but what happened happened. I'll let it go."
I give her a longing look. "You made me so in love Britt, I love you, I'm in love with you, all those romantic sentences crap people say to each other." She looks back at me, still trying to measure my authenticity every time I say something between those lines, wondering if I'm serious or not. She has yet to become less sceptical. Part of her forbidding herself to believe me. Sometimes she just starts kissing me in response, sometimes she's asking if I'm sure. Now she's saying something else though.
"You don't understand Santana. My heart, it's … black. You can't even call it in pain. It's made pitch black. The pain was too much and it turned. It turned black…" Her lower lip starts to quiver. "I don't want you to put up with someone with a pained heart who doesn't have any goodness in it."
I give her the most loving look I can manage. "Brittany, you listen to me. You listen to me very very carefully. You are not broken. You don't need to be a martyr because of your parents behaviour. Yes they had control over you. But they can't have control over your heart." I give her a gentle push where her heart is. It gets me a small laugh in response. "They can't break a heart that wasn't theirs in the first place. They can't touch your core. They can't touch it. Maybe you don't see it. But I see you. I see you loud and clear. You're not dark inside. They made you believe that, but you're not. I can give you a thousand examples, but I know they won't help. I just ask you to look into my eyes. Look into my eyes and tell me what you see."
"I… I see a beautiful person. I see someone who loves with all of their heart." She stumbles over her words, trying to keep herself truthful in the conversation. "I see … someone who wants the best for people. I … I see love."
"That's right. And let me be perfectly clear about something. You know how people say that if you can look deeply into someone eyes, you can see their soul?" She gives a small nod. "Well I do believe in that. But I also believe that eyes can be mirrors. If I think about you 100%, then there's nothing else for you to see in my eyes, but you. And the moment you watched into my eyes, do you know who I thought off?"
She crinkles her nose. "Lord Tubbington?" The corners of my mouth quirk up at that.
"Hah, he wishes." I try to gain back my seriousness. "No Britt, I thought of you. Only you. I know this is going to be a long road. But I think, now that you're my girlfriend, you will give me permission to let me show you how I feel about you? How awesome and beautiful I know you are?"
Still on top of me, she doesn't really give me a verbal answer. She leans down towards me. I mirror her actions, meeting her in the middle. Her right arm settles down on the bed, the other starts to fumble with my shirt again. When I try to push her shirt out of our way, she's a bit hesitant. She looks distraught.
I give her a puzzled look. "Britt Britt?"
She shakes her head a bit. "No it's nothing, sorry. I'm just … you know my body has these … scars … I don't like them. I don't want to scare you or disgust you .."
There's a dangerous glow in my eyes. It's not aimed at her, it's aimed at the cause of those scars. "Brittany no. I don't care if you're surrounded by thousands of scars. You're still the most beautiful girl I ever saw. But if you don't feel comfortable showing them, then I won't force you. … But don't hesitate in function of being afraid of what I'll think. You should never feel ashamed of your own body B."
She puts her body up a bit more, closing her eyes. "Can you like, look and judge if I need to get out of your room or not?"
Damn. What do you say at a question like that?! "Brittany?"
She keeps her eyes closed, taking matters in her own hands. She puts her shirt over her head… I try not to look, but with her eyes closed … it's a difficult task. The next thing she does is taking of her cheerios skirt. She's only wearing her boyshorts (Christmas themed, of course) and sportsbra now. Okay, focus Santana, this is not the moment yet to get turned on. Now is not the time to get your mack on. Though I can't see nothing but a beautiful woman before me, I know she expects me to look further than that.
My heart aches when I inspect her body closely. Her shoulder is still taped, because it's been out of its socket one too many times. On her neck and wrists there are these traces of distant fingerprints. I don't even want to know how many times she's been choked to unconsciousness. There's this small stripe beneath her right eye, I'm not sure that'll ever completely disappear.
The biggest scar is the most recent one, the one near her livre… The one that was a live or death situation.
I realise I haven't said a word in some time, trying to swallow my anger and sadness. I haven't seen her back yet, but I'm not sure she's ready for that. Brittany hasn't said anything either, she still has her eyes closed. "It's bad isn't it."
That snaps me out of my own anger towards Susan and Jack. "Wait, no Brittany. I really don't think so. You're so, so beautiful.."
She crosses her arms at that. "No, Britt please." I pry her arms away from herself, leaning over to kiss over her most recent scar. "You know what I see when I look at this scar?"
She takes a quick peek at me, shaking her head from left to right. "I see the thing that has saved your life. It was created by a monster, but it was healed by you. I don't see something ugly. I see something that your body healed, because it wanted to survive. People see their body in a different way other people see them. Scars aren't bad. They're different. Not bad."
She doesn't look super convinced yet, but it's a start. "And you know … I dig scars."
She can't hold in her laughter after that. "You're silly San."
Sensing I'm allowed to do this, I kiss my way up towards her lips again. I'm glad she at least seems a bit more comfortable now. I hope I can give her back some of that confidence. It's a shame she even thought something like that. Have you looked at her? She's so hot! And I get to make out with her! Wow, shut up Santana, you're like a horny teenage boy right now.
…
Our make out session didn't go that much further then that. We both have some work to do about our insecurities first. Plus, sex isn't exactly the solution for getting those insecurities away. It could be a great distraction … it really could. But no, it's not the long term solution for a good relationship.
We did kiss for a long time, even dared to touch a feel beneath the shirt and bra … but that's it. We're also both feeling very exhausted from the day. Or week. Month. Year. We're laying in the bed right now, snoozing. I turn onto my side, gaze towards her. She's got me thinking, and I think it's important to ask one more time.
"Hey B?" She hums in response. "Are you sure you're not up to going to a trauma coach or something? Just to test it out? If it's not for you, then it's not for you … at least you'll know."
She's reluctant at first, distracting me with more sweet lady kisses. Though after things settle down again, she responds. "I guess it could be worth a shot … maybe."
It's the last thing that's said that evening. I'm so happy she'll give it a try. And if after a few sessions she feels like it doesn't click or work, well then that's okay. We'll see where to go from there then. Though I do hope it could help her in some ways.
…
It's the next morning. I aimlessly move my hand around on the bedspread, looking for Brittany. She's not here anymore. She must have made herself ready already to go have breakfast. Guess I should too… school starts in less than an hour. Bummer. I wouldn't mind staying in my room, locked up with Brittany for a week, or more.
Doesn't matter now, it's not a possibility.
After I've changed I stumble down the stairs. Not that I'm one to snoop around (uh, maybe that's a bit sarcastic by the way), but I'm delighted to hear Brittany talking with my mother. They're deliberating what person would be a good fit for her, in terms of a coach of some sorts… I'm 100% sure my mother will make it her lifework to find a good psychologists for her. I'm really confident about that.
After their conversation is over, I step into the kitchen, grabbing myself something to eat. I'm not a morning person, so besides a small greeting I don't talk that much.
My mom offers to bring us to school. Once we're standing at the school doors, we get a bit hesitant. I think we're both feeling a little uneasy right now. Should we hold hands? Will we keep our relationship for ourself for now? Is it too strange to kiss in school? What are the rules here?
An annoyed groan snaps us out of our awkward mood. It's Quinn. She must have read our minds (or we might have sent her an overly excited text yesterday evening she'll have to deal with us as a couple now), because she brings us out of our reluctance.
"Just take each other hands. It's too early for this. Walk along, take your pinkies, make lovey-dovey eyes. I don't care. Just … leave me out of this awkwardness."
Brittany grows embarrassingly shy, but takes my hand in hers anyway. A small whimper escapes my mouth. I didn't know such a small gesture could make me feel like this … It's an awesome feeling to have.
We do get some strange looks, but most people don't even notice. I guess we've always been near each other, so holding hands must feel way more new to us, then it looks to others.
I'm so sad we don't have much classes in common today. I want to stay with her for the rest of the day. However, I've already lost a week, she lost two weeks. It's not a good idea to skip any more classes for the moment. Although all by all it will be okay. The teachers are sort of aware of the situation, and I must admit, Finn, Rachel and Artie have been a great help, explaining to us what we've missed and what not.
The sound of someone closing their locker snaps me back to the present. Ugh. First thing I have is gym. I'm so not in the mood! Okay, don't complain Santana. One step at a time.
When I've changed myself, I walk to the teacher. Pff, we're going to run laps outside (that's the most creative our teacher can come up with?)
I start at a fast pace, trying to find a way to be left alone. I'll slow down in a minute, once most people have scattered around on the track. I'm not in the mood to talk.
… Seems I've spoken to soon. Mike is trying to catch up to me, yelling out my name. "Hey Santana, wait up."
I slow down a bit, giving him a chance to catch up. Plus, I need to find a pace where talking isn't too challenging. I give him a questionable look, wondering what he could possibly have to say to me. Can you believe I'm talking to him? A year ago I wouldn't even slow down if Quinn was asking me to 'wait up'. I'm such a softy now. I blame Britt… In like a nice way.
He catches his breath, getting in step with my tempo. "How's Brittany? Is she … okay?"
I shrug my shoulders a bit. "She's healing really well. It's just, she's still overcoming some insecurities of her. Those things don't fall away overnight you know."
He doesn't give an immediate respond, too busy in his own mind. He almost stumbles over his own feet before he formulates a reaction. "I wish I knew this. I wish I figured that out in primary school. I've known her for so long. How could I have not seen it?" His jaw locks. "I should have done something, shouldn't I? I feel so bad."
I take a deep breath. It's scary how familiar his guilt is to mine. So many people have tried to convince me to not feel guilty, and now someone is talking to me, saying he's feeling the exact same thing.
I'm trying to work myself through it. Knowing it was not my responsibility is a really big one. I get that now. It really wasn't my responsibility. But still. Guilt isn't something to get over quickly. So how on earth do I explain myself properly to somebody else? I'm barely keeping myself together… I could try though.
"You know I feel a lot like you Mike?" I whisper. "… But I'm starting to see some things. Some situations need to happen. And I'm not saying that because I'm okay with what happened to Brittany. Not at all. What happened to her shouldn't have happened. Period. But she was born in that family. We're very lucky we've met Brittany. There are so many ways where we never would have crossed paths with her. What if you didn't like dance? What if you went to a different school? what if I didn't become a cheerleader? What if I decided to get home-educated?" I stop for a minute, trying to give words to what I'm thinking.
"In a way, I think it was part of her journey, to find herself. And I'm not saying there weren't other options to find her path to today. It's not fair her journey got in contact with such extreme violence…. But I'm saying she chose to not let us in. She made us help in her own way. It may not look like that to us, but we helped. And I think we should respect her choice in the way we were allowed to help her." Wow, I'm actually impressed with myself. I should really give this 'speaking without thinking' more of a chance!
"I'm equally as frustrated as you that she made that decision. And I'm not blaming her for her situation! I'm still wishing everyday her parents weren't gigantic jerkbags, they are the only one at fault. I'm still wishing she would have said something. To an adult. To anyone! I wish somebody could have helped her a lot sooner." I kick on a small rock that was on my path. It doesn't do much about my anger or frustration… but at least nobody will sprain his foot on that one.
"…But it's happened this way." I take in a sharp breath. "… And there is no way to change that. I'm not saying it's okay what happened. I'm not saying anybody else should ever need this path to have their journey. I'm saying it was part of her journey. And we have no guilt in that journey. We did what we could. We respected her boundaries… I believe that almost everything happens for a reason. And I'm sure now, she did need a friend like you in primary school. She needed a friend who didn't ask any questions about her sometimes odd behaviour… It was her escape. It was her rescue. It was the reason she put herself together. It's the reason she survived her journey…"
I comb my fingers through my hair. "… Just like I'm sure we needed to find each other for me to realise I should be brave enough to ask her if someone was hurting her. Do you see what I mean? You have no blame in this journey. Only gratitude for being able to be there among her, supporting her in your own way." I shove a twig away. "And unless we can build a time machine, those are the only words we can have. They can help us find a peace in our guilt and give us permission to let the things that happened behind."
We've slowed down to a slow jog. Lots of student are bypassing us. I glance at Mike. He doesn't really respond to my answer, but I understand. It takes time to let words like that seep into your conscious… It takes time for guilt to seep out of your veins.
For the rest of the class, we stick together without speaking. I think we found a comfort and consolation in each other that's going to keep us together. I think I found the foundation of a new friendship… We could help each other heal. Heal in order to be there for Brittany in a healthy way.
A week later – kitchen of the Lopez-house
"Alright, I'm going to take a shower. Mom, Britt, could you maybe do the dishes?"
My mom calls me back, a scolding edge in her tone. "Santana Lopez. You stay right there! What kind of lame excuse is that to get out of cleaning the kitchen after a meal?" I don't move, she's looking at me with a way too familiar fire in her eyes. This is not the time to challenge her.
Brittany chimes in. "No, it's okay Maribel. I said she could. You've all done so much already, let me do some things in return. I know it's definitely not at the extent of my gratitude, but small things can help. I'll clean the kitchen… I'll take a shower once I'm done. Santana can take hers now."
I'm already walking backwards, mouthing a small thanks to Britt. I know I should help. But come on, can you blame me? Kitchen chores suck. My mom starts to ensure Brittany she doesn't need to feel obligated to give back some of her gratitude, but she decides to let us win… this time. I wave a quick salute to Britt and run upstairs, too afraid my mom will change her mind if I'd wait too long.
I look around in my room for the right clothes to wear after my shower. Shoot, I realise my clean shirt is still laying downstairs after washing it. I triple down the stairs again, before I slow down. I know people shouldn't eavesdrop to other people's conversations. But … I'm too curious right now. And it sounds important.
Okay no, that should be an argument to not listen to the conversation. But come on! The two most loved woman in my live are having a conversation behind my back. Of course I want to know what they talk about…
"So Brittany. How have you been?"
"I've been okay. Besides my back who's itching like crazy right now, the rest is healing well."
"And otherwise?"
"I'm fine."
There's a long silence after that. Are they aware I'm here? I hear my mom walking around a bit. But then I hear the clinking of plates getting dried down. They probably started doing the dishes or something.
My mom clears her throat. "You know Brittany. I'm not going to beat around the bushes. You know I've read your statement to the police right? As a lawyer from you and Charlotte I needed to have all the evidence and witness stories I could get that were available. Yours gave me the key to get them what they deserved for a long time. But I'm aware. So I'm asking you again. How are you?"
Uh oh, she's using her 'don't lie to me' voice. It's so stern, yet filled with love. I hate that voice, it makes me feel guilty if I lie to her after that.
"I … I uh. I'm struggling a bit. It's just. All these people look at me with so much pity. Like I didn't deserve a single thing that happened to me. And I know, I really do, rationally, that they're right… Santana is right, this shouldn't have happened to me, I didn't deserve…that … But it's easy to know something rationally… the tricky part is feeling it too. It's just… I feel so frustrated with myself! I don't … I don't understand myself. I still feel so much insecurity. I'm so stupid. I'm so selfish. I don't deserve this attention everybody is giving me now. I'm not … I just … I don't feel happiness. Not truly. There's only blackness inside of me. And it's so frustrating. It's so bad I feel like this!"
My mom puts down a plate. I feel like I'm really intruding on a private conversation right now. But my legs don't seem to be able to move. My breathing has come in short frequencies, but barely audible.
"Why do you feel bad about not feeling happy Brittany?"
It's quiet.
"Brittany, mija, what's this guilt you're wearing so heavy on your shoulders? Talk to me. Why do you feel guilty?"
"Because. I don't have the privilege of feeling bad anymore!"
Huh, what is she saying right know? The privilege? What does feeling bad have anything to do with a privilege? … Figures my mom wonders the same thing.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not … I'm not getting abused now. I don't have some sad sob story about me that gives me an excuse to feel bad. And yes, I know I didn't have the best parents. I really do am getting to realise it was even worse then what other kids get through sometimes. But … even before things started to get so bad … I always felt this heaviness inside me. This blackness. And I didn't understand why? Why do I feel this way? What gives me the permission to feel bad? There's a small part of me that …"
I hear some shuffling around, I think my mom is trying to give a side hug to Brittany or something.
"You can say it out loud Brittany. Whatever you feel, tell me."
"There's … there's a part of me that liked the excuse of having abusive parents. It's … I think it's also sort of a reason I never reached out before. It's just. It's easier that way. I've never felt a positive feeling in my life. I've felt this emptiness… this heaviness…This broken soul in me. I've never understood or understand why? Why am I not strong enough to feel happy? Why do I feel such a strong urge to feel unhappy? And you know … it's easier to be in a situation where you have physical evidence of a problem. It gave me permission to feel the way I felt … the way I feel. It's easier for people to understand a person if they feel bad because they're in a bad situation. I now feel like … I don't have any permission anymore to feel … unhappy. Now I'm not in a bad situation. What's my excuse now? My life is perfect! … I feel so guilty. And Santana deserves so much more than that."
"Oh honey, come here!"
There's a five minute silence after that. Maybe I should really go take that shower now. Maybe …
"Brittany. If Santana has a bad day and she tells you so, what do you think?"
"I try to think about a thousand ways to try to cheer her up, and if that doesn't work I'll try to stand next to her as long as she wants me. I can't climb her own wall with her, but I can cheer and support from beside her."
"That's beautiful Brittany… But, what you just told me. How does that fit in your idea about yourself? Wouldn't you think that Santana isn't deserving of feeling bad? That she doesn't have any reason to feel bad, so she should stop whining and feel happy again. Do you ever think something like that? Because Santana is in a good situation. Her family loves her like crazy. Never has to worry about financial stuff. Has good friends. Good school results … Isn't that all the boxes to feel happy, not unhappy? So in that logic, is she even allowed to feel bad?
"Of course she's allowed to feel bad! You can't control what you feel. Everybody has the right to feel bad. If Santana has a bad day, then I know it's not out of self-pity or whatever, she genuinely has a bad feeling. She'll find better days in the future, but she can have all the space she needs to find a place and peace over her bad feeli… Oh … I see what you did there…"
"Feeling bad Brittany, has nothing to do with external factors. It can give ammunition to your bad feeling, it can even be the primary reason. But it's not an exclusive story. There is no permission button to feel unhappy. Just like there is no permission button to feel happy. Is the luckiest person on earth not allowed to feel unhappy? Of course not… It's another story if that person wouldn't feel gratefulness… But being grateful and being happy are two different things Brittany. Is a blind man allowed to be happy? Of course, and why though? His situation isn't all roses and sunshine. But still, in his perspective it's 100% possible to be 100% happy… How we live on this planet, has nothing to do with the way we feel honey. We don't know what our souls have gone through. And it's nothing to do with faith I'm telling you. Everybody has their own beliefs. I'm just telling you: behaviour, spirituality, physicality, mentality and circumstances are five different things. Those first four, they should live in unison in your mind and body. None is stronger than the other one, none is weaker. They live in unison. That means they're codependent. It doesn't mean one overrules your whole story. If you get your behaviour, spirituality, physicality and mentality in balance ... that's perfection…
Your mentality should not have to ask permission to any other of those five. Just like physicality shouldn't need to have permission from your behaviour to do the things you want. If a man in a wheelchair wants to play basketball, should we just tone down his mentality and say it's never possible? Should we say his circumstances are withholding him from that dream? Of course not! Is a bully allowed to bully people because he has a bad home situation? No, he's allowed to be aware of his circumstances, be aware these circumstance give influence to his mentality, which give influence to his behaviour. But his behaviour isn't okay. In that situation he should look at the core of his problem, which are circumstances and physicality, those are not okay. We can help him with that… It's not a ticket of allowing bad behaviour himself. Nobody knows yourself more than you do. Nobody should be allowed to have any say in how you should feel. They are allowed to help you, especially if you ask for it. But people can't steel away your feeling of unhappiness, just because those people think your circumstances aren't bad enough to feel unhappy. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
A small, soft voice replies. "That circumstances aren't the boss about how you feel? That other people can't judge for another person how bad they're allowed to feel?"
"Yes, exactly." My mom pauses her speech for a second. "How you feel is your feeling. Brittany, it's okay if you feel that you're not happy right now. I accept that you're feeling that way. I wish I could help you get rid of that though. The first step is to have faith in yourself. Have faith that you're not just a bad and broken person that isn't able to fix herself. Keep that rational thought alive, and try to find a crack in your door to open your mind to other things. That first step of accepting to have hope in yourself, is so important mija. Give yourself permission to feel what you feel."
I hear Britt sniffing her nose. I think she's crying. God I want to give her a hug so badly right now!
"I'm just… It's a hard road. And I'm so grateful to have Santana by my side. I really do believe she's the reason I'll get through this."
I hear my mom taking a deep breath in. What is she going to say now?
"Brittany, I don't want you to understand me wrong. I am 100% happy you two have each other. But … you won't thrive through this challenge of your mind with only Santana, a girlfriend at your side. You're main motivation should not be to feel better for her. Your main motivation should be to feel better for yourself. Of course Santana can be of great help. Of course she can be a great motivator. Just being with her in person can be an awesome helper and motivation for you. But please give yourself permission to heal for yourself too. Not only for Santana. But for you… You deserve so much happiness Brittany. And you are allowed to feel bad… I do ask of you to work on it. Give yourself permission to feel good too… Do this for yourself, not for anyone else… I think you're not giving you permission to any feeling at all. Using Santana as the main reason to get better, is you hiding yourself and not taking care of yourself … not completely."
I hear some shuffling of shoes again. "Tthank you, Maribel. Thank you for that… Can I ask one more thing?"
"Of course."
"You … you've read all of my report?"
"Yes I have."
"So … you know the part where I'm not sure if they ever … mistreated me in a … sexual way?"
"Yeah Brittany. I've read you sometimes woke up from falling unconscious and that you weren't sure what has happened. I'm sorry that happened. If you're asking me if they said something about that, no they didn't. It was asked, but they gave a clear statement they never did that. I don't…"
Brittany interrupts. "Do you believe them?"
"I .. I don't know sweety. I think it's important to find a way, where you believe whatever you want to believe has happened. Whether they did something or not… it doesn't matter what situation you choose to believe. But choosing could help. It could help to let go of the doubt… If you keep hesitating about what the truth is, than you could go your whole life not knowing. If you let yourself choose the situation, you can find a way to work through that."
"I'm just. Yeah… it's like you say, I don't even care that much if they raped me or not…" I cringe at that, she speaks so blunt at that! How does she do that? "…Which sounds really bad to say, but … you know, everything becomes such a blur and one big pile of … bad … But it's the not knowing that feels so bad. And … I don't know, it gives me this fear of being unconscious in situations where there are other people. I trust Santana with my whole heart, but part of me feels so stressed out to fall unconscious before she falls asleep… I lose control, and I'm so afraid to let go of that, no matter who I'm with."
"I think you should communicate that fear with Santana dear. I don't know how far you two went in your relationship, but let yourself make your decisions for your body. It's yours. Nobody else's… And if I can make a suggestion?"
She doesn't really give an answer I can hear. Maybe she nodded or something. I almost fall on my face, the anticipation is making me get as close to the conversation as possible…Without being caught of course.
"I believe they didn't touch your body like that. I've had some cases of sexual assaults at my job. And it's just … I can't give you any facts, but my gut is telling me neither Jack or Susan had a desire to do something like that. I truly believe that. So let yourself listen to that hunch. I know you're convinced of that too. They didn't do that. Give yourself permission to listen to yourself… It's your body. It's your control."
I think I should stop listening now. Maybe someday I can tell her I overheard her talking to my mother. But for now … I think I should keep this conversation private between them. I think it's important for her to have this talk for herself. At least for now. Plus … it really was not my business to listen… I hope once I confess I've heard this conversation … I hope she'll forgive me for eavesdropping.
A few weeks later – basketball court
"I cannot believe the whole Glee club agreed to this" Matt mutters to Britt. I don't think I was supposed to hear that, but I'm literally walking next to them…
"I know right, it will be so cool to have a six against six match. Britt and I will kill this game!" Mike chimes in. I whip my head around. I didn't notice he was right behind us. Him and Tina are both following Matt, Britt and I.
Tina gives Mike a small shove at that. "I'm in, as long as Brittany and Mike are not in the same team… and not in the same positions."
Matt gives Tina a high five before running towards Puck and Finn. Quinn is walking at my other side, secretly looking forward to this game for a while now.
"I'm so glad you guys came again. You had fun last time right?" Brittany wiggles her brows at her questioning.
Quinn snorts. "Oh I know two people who had fun at that court alright. Didn't have much to do with basketball though."
Both Britt and I are starting to blush furiously at that. I cross my arms and huff. "Well watch me Q, we're going to be pro's at the end of this game. You're just jealous you're not good at basketball… At least I can throw the ball in the right hoop."
Hah, I got her there. The three of us started to play more, after that first game we did with Matt, Mike and Tina. It's a fun change to Sue's intensive trainings. There's a basketball court in the gym room, which we sometimes go to after a cheerleading practise. Just to cool down a bit. Plus, we like to keep each other company, when we're not in the mood to go to anyone's home yet.
It's not a competitive matter or something, but … Let's just say Britt would easily win gold, I'm a good silver medal winner, and Quinn … she wins bronze because there's no one else to give a prize to.
Quinn and Britt are bickering over something ridiculous, playfulness edging in both their voices. It's amazing how strong our band is right now. I would even dare to call Quinn a very close and good friend of mine now. Quinn and Britt became amazing 'step'sisters. Sometimes I even feel like the third wheel if I'm walking around in that house. Luckily my girlfriend is always a master in giving a proper apology in terms of lady kisses and/or more. Yep, allow your mind to go into the gutter. Although, she gives the best massages too, but even those end up somewhere… else often.
A sharp voice asks my attention. "Hey, I know what we should do. We should make this into a glee meeting. Sing some songs during doing … the sports."
I shake my head. Ugh. Of course Rachel wants to make this into one of her karaoke events.
"Yeah, good idea Rachel. I brought a box with me."
And, of course Finn follows her around like a kicked puppy. I take a quick look at Quinn, seeing how's she's doing with the whole Finn/Rachel dynamic. She looks right back at me, her gaze it a bit blank.
Brittany told me Quinn said to her a few days ago that she's starting to get over Finn. 'Better fish in the sea', she said. Britt said she wasn't 100% convinced, but at least she's not falling that extreme hard for Finn anymore. She's way too busy trying to keep up with Charlotte's attention towards her. Every time Britt and I get a bit distracted at their house, Quinn turns her attention elsewhere. She's surprisingly good with eight years old. And she loves it. She loves playing princess and hero and building train stations or whatever they're doing when I'm busy with B.
So yeah, it's less cringy-feeling every time Finn and Rachel decide to play their little ping pong game of awkward conversation. Quinn isn't that bothered by it anymore, so B and I aren't either. Well… Britt wasn't ever bothered. She has a strange kink for awkward conversation. She loves them for some reason… As long as she's not part of it herself.
I let the rest of glee club complain to Rachel and Finn. They can do the explaining of why we shouldn't do a karaoke right now. I put my stuff away on a bench. It's the same one I used the last time … A small blush forms on my cheeks, thinking about what happened near that bench once upon a time…
Anyway. Matt and Mike divide the group in two teams. I'm actually put in the opposite team of Brittany and Quinn. Bummer.
Brittany gives me a small kiss, apologizing beforehand if she gets too competitive again. It depends what she means exactly. What is she going to be competitive about? Hmm, maybe not the time to get myself worked up. Let's play first… play basketball I mean.
My dancer is running towards the other side of court, a joyful kick visible in her step. It's nice to see her so carefree. I know she has a road before her. A mountain even. And I know it's hers to climb… but I'm so happy she allows me to cheer her on from the sidelines with her.
Our bond has never been stronger before. Emotional we've never stood closer next to each other. She told me some things about her past, not all the things, but that's okay. I don't know if she needs to tell all of it over and over again to get over them. Everybody has their own healing process, I'll respect hers the way it comes. I am just so happy she decided to go talk to a professional for some time now. It seems like she has a connection with the psychologist. That's good. A good connection is really important.
After her talk with my mom (which I still haven't really told her I heard), we had a long talk ourselves in my room. It went into a lot of directions.
One of them was about how she wasn't feeling ready yet to take the next step into our relationship. I was a bit hurt she even felt some sort of pressure about that. When did I ever try to pressure her towards that? I panicked for a moment there, unjustly thinking it was because of me. However, she quickly assured me it's about neither of those things. She doesn't feel pressured or prohibited about it, it's just … something she's not completely ready for. Though, she really does feel very connected and ready … in some way, to deepen our emotional band all the way to the physical band …However, with everything that happened with her parents …
She's too insecure in her own body at the moment. She doesn't think she can allow herself to be in such a fragile situation, completely bare … literally and figuratively. Even if it's with me. Because she does feel safe around me. We've created such a safe environment with each other. we feel 100% at ease with each other… Which is such a precious thing to have. So no, it's not me, it's her. As cliché as it sounds. She just needs to find a way to get out of her own head. Or at least that's how she described it to me…
I'm still not 100% sure what her parents did, though she tells me stories… I'm certain she's still keeping some facts behind about her experiences. Nonetheless, if that is what she needs to feel safe, then that's okay. She can tell everything at her own pace. Even if that pace means she'll never let me know. She knows what and when it's important to let me in, and when it's perfectly fine not too.
So I'm grateful she shared that part of her with me. I'm not agreeing with it. She has absolutely no need to feel insecure about her own body. But … I know it's something she has to fight herself over, to find her confidence. So from now on, all the stuff that happens between us on that level, will go on her pace… I do appreciate she communicates so open with me. It makes it easier to help her where I can. It makes it easier to let her in too. I am so grateful we've made such a safe environment with each other.
She says we're each other's 'safety blankets', at least that's what she likes to call it. I don't think she knows safety blankets can be used in a negative way too, but I do know that she doesn't mean it like that. In her own Brittany-language way, it's the biggest compliment she could give me.
God. Brittany. My girlfriend. Brittany, my beautiful girlfriend. She told me she loves me, not so long ago. Like, not muffled between a couple of different lines. Just literally looking me in the eyes, saying 'I love you Santana Lopez'. Just straight up those five words. Nothing else… Did you know? Brittany S. Pierce, loves me! It gives me the urge to jump ten feet in the air out of gratitude and happiness. We love each other so much, it's ridiculous. I'm sure of it people get annoyed by us.
You know those couples that walk on the streets, all lovey dovey couply eyes… all kissy faces … just completely all over each other? It's ridiculous really. I used to hate seeing people doing that. But … Every time I'm with Britt, I feel like my own walls just crumble down in one small second. It's wonderful how we can be so authentic.
Giving each other the permission to be our authentic selves… Isn't that the most important thing in a relationship? Being able to be yourself, knowing there are learning curves to communicate and work with each other, without losing yourself? God I love that woman.
Yeah, it's going to be a long road. Filled with bumps and mountains. But we'll both get there. We're forever grateful we found each other and can stand next to each other, intertwining our stories together. The love we have for each other is unbreakable. The things Brittany went through are indescribable. Our future isn't written yet. But we have hope. Faith that we'll find our forever happy ending together.
Quinn pushes me out of my thinking, giving me a gentle nudge on the shoulder. "Come on San, quit daydreaming. Come here, basketball game is about to start."