Post by melinda on Jul 5, 2014 18:48:44 GMT -6
ch 1
Sam had never felt so low, so terrible, so...miserable as he did the moment he opened the portrait. Yes, it was Diane. Definitely Diane.
There had been things said, so many hurtful words exchanged that Sam knew there was no going back, even if he wanted to. He'd tried his best, and he'd changed for her, and she couldn't even see that. He'd went from a self-pronounced ladies' man to a one woman man, and heaven knew the road hadn't been easy for him. He learned to fight, sometimes-okay a lot- he was fighting with the woman he loved, but he also learned how to fight for the woman he loved.
But after tonight, he had no more fight left in him.
He was tired, and just wanted to go on with his life.
More importantly, he wanted to go back in time, do himself a favor and save himself from all the pain that loving one woman had caused him. Maybe he wasn't the smartest of guys, but he tried hard. His friends loved him and accepted him for who he was. Why couldn't Diane have done the same thing for him?
Yes, she was stubborn, indignant (whatever that meant), set in her ways, and hard to handle. But for the most part, Sam truly felt like he'd given her the best of him.
Now he was left with what was left, and he wasn't so sure that he liked what he saw.
Why, why, why did she have to make things so difficult? Love wasn't supposed to be like this. It was about flowers, dinner, a nice night maybe at a hotel, maybe breakfast. It wasn't supposed to be name-calling, insulting, defiance, no trust whatsoever. And that's what it all boiled down to.
Diane hadn't trusted or respected him enough to abide by his wishes, as irrational as they might have been.
She sure as hell could ask the world of him, but all he had done really, in the grand scheme of things, shouldn't have been a big deal. But true to fashion, Diane had taken a simple request and blown it up to horrible proportions.
Why couldn't she see that he had tried, as hard as he had ever tried anything before in his life?
Giving up alcohol and the ladies, now it seemed, had been the easy part. Forgetting Diane- that would be impossible.
But he had to do it. Sometimes you just can't unsay something that's been said, even if you really wanted to. They'd hurt each other badly, and there just wasn't anything left in him to fight with anymore.
He looked at the portrait one last time before setting it aside, facing away from him, in his office. He'd know what to do with it in the morning. Somehow burning it seemed most appropriate.
Yet there was this little feeling that nagged at him, one he wasn't even capable of describing. It was like when he was a kid and his parents always bragged about how good Derek was, and said nothing about Sam. He had tried, was a pretty good kid, but no matter what, he always felt like something was wrong with him, like he wasn't quite good enough, like no matter what he did, he just would never be able to live up to all those expectations were.
Why, it occurred to him, was he thinking of Derek and his past when he should still be dwelling on things that went wrong with Diane?
So he decided to go for a drive. Even though Diane had always teased him about his total lack of insight, something occurred to him that he'd never thought of before. Maybe-just maybe- being with Diane kind of felt like being around Derek all over again.
No, he shook his head. That would be too...what was the word- weird? But it kind of made sense to him. The constant competition, the need to control when he felt like everything around him was messed up, the hating all the expectations that she'd put upon him all their time together.
Before he knew it, he found himself driving the very familiar path to Diane's door.
But, unlike Derek or with his parents, Sam knew Diane did one thing differently. She loved him, no matter what his faults were. She fought for him. She believed in him.
Just like a kid opening his presents on Christmas morning, Sam felt extremely nervous and excited, wanting to share with Diane what he'd just come to realize about himself, and more importantly, about their relationship.
0000
When she opened the door, it was obvious to him she'd been crying. Drinking, yes. But crying.
He felt like dirt. Less than dirt.
"What do you want, Sam?" Diane sighed wearily. "If you've come to argue with me, you're wasting your time. I have nothing left inside of me which I can argue with. Your best bet would be to turn around. That's what I would do if I were you."
Something about her voice- the fact that she'd apparently really and truly given up on them, saddened him more than he knew was possible.
He knew what he had to say. There was only one thing he could say. But somehow, despite thinking it was his most brilliant idea ever on the way there, Sam was finding it next to impossible to say the only words that he could say.
She looked at him, then started to shut the door.
"Diane," he put his hand in the doorway. "I'm...I'm sorry."
Not sure if it was the alcohol, the emotional or physical exhaustion causing her to hear what she thought she heard, she very slowly opened the door. "What did you say?"
"Something I should have said a long time ago. I don't know why I can't say it, why I don't say it...but I just have to."
"No, it's okay, you don't..."
"Diane! Don't you see? I have to say it...I owe it to you, and I owe it to myself. I hurt you, and for that, I am sorry. I know you don't ever want to see me again, but there, I said it."
He looked down, afraid of her reaction, of her laughing or mocking his weakness. But what she did surprised even him. She took his hand, and though they said nothing all night, they held hands, with her resting her head on his shoulder on the couch.
He didn't know how or why, but he knew the game had changed.
Now he was, more than ever, looking forward to the future that he'd thought too good for him. He knew that for better or for worse, Diane was the woman he would spend the rest of his life with. And that was one time he really, truly was not the least bit sorry.
Sam had never felt so low, so terrible, so...miserable as he did the moment he opened the portrait. Yes, it was Diane. Definitely Diane.
There had been things said, so many hurtful words exchanged that Sam knew there was no going back, even if he wanted to. He'd tried his best, and he'd changed for her, and she couldn't even see that. He'd went from a self-pronounced ladies' man to a one woman man, and heaven knew the road hadn't been easy for him. He learned to fight, sometimes-okay a lot- he was fighting with the woman he loved, but he also learned how to fight for the woman he loved.
But after tonight, he had no more fight left in him.
He was tired, and just wanted to go on with his life.
More importantly, he wanted to go back in time, do himself a favor and save himself from all the pain that loving one woman had caused him. Maybe he wasn't the smartest of guys, but he tried hard. His friends loved him and accepted him for who he was. Why couldn't Diane have done the same thing for him?
Yes, she was stubborn, indignant (whatever that meant), set in her ways, and hard to handle. But for the most part, Sam truly felt like he'd given her the best of him.
Now he was left with what was left, and he wasn't so sure that he liked what he saw.
Why, why, why did she have to make things so difficult? Love wasn't supposed to be like this. It was about flowers, dinner, a nice night maybe at a hotel, maybe breakfast. It wasn't supposed to be name-calling, insulting, defiance, no trust whatsoever. And that's what it all boiled down to.
Diane hadn't trusted or respected him enough to abide by his wishes, as irrational as they might have been.
She sure as hell could ask the world of him, but all he had done really, in the grand scheme of things, shouldn't have been a big deal. But true to fashion, Diane had taken a simple request and blown it up to horrible proportions.
Why couldn't she see that he had tried, as hard as he had ever tried anything before in his life?
Giving up alcohol and the ladies, now it seemed, had been the easy part. Forgetting Diane- that would be impossible.
But he had to do it. Sometimes you just can't unsay something that's been said, even if you really wanted to. They'd hurt each other badly, and there just wasn't anything left in him to fight with anymore.
He looked at the portrait one last time before setting it aside, facing away from him, in his office. He'd know what to do with it in the morning. Somehow burning it seemed most appropriate.
Yet there was this little feeling that nagged at him, one he wasn't even capable of describing. It was like when he was a kid and his parents always bragged about how good Derek was, and said nothing about Sam. He had tried, was a pretty good kid, but no matter what, he always felt like something was wrong with him, like he wasn't quite good enough, like no matter what he did, he just would never be able to live up to all those expectations were.
Why, it occurred to him, was he thinking of Derek and his past when he should still be dwelling on things that went wrong with Diane?
So he decided to go for a drive. Even though Diane had always teased him about his total lack of insight, something occurred to him that he'd never thought of before. Maybe-just maybe- being with Diane kind of felt like being around Derek all over again.
No, he shook his head. That would be too...what was the word- weird? But it kind of made sense to him. The constant competition, the need to control when he felt like everything around him was messed up, the hating all the expectations that she'd put upon him all their time together.
Before he knew it, he found himself driving the very familiar path to Diane's door.
But, unlike Derek or with his parents, Sam knew Diane did one thing differently. She loved him, no matter what his faults were. She fought for him. She believed in him.
Just like a kid opening his presents on Christmas morning, Sam felt extremely nervous and excited, wanting to share with Diane what he'd just come to realize about himself, and more importantly, about their relationship.
0000
When she opened the door, it was obvious to him she'd been crying. Drinking, yes. But crying.
He felt like dirt. Less than dirt.
"What do you want, Sam?" Diane sighed wearily. "If you've come to argue with me, you're wasting your time. I have nothing left inside of me which I can argue with. Your best bet would be to turn around. That's what I would do if I were you."
Something about her voice- the fact that she'd apparently really and truly given up on them, saddened him more than he knew was possible.
He knew what he had to say. There was only one thing he could say. But somehow, despite thinking it was his most brilliant idea ever on the way there, Sam was finding it next to impossible to say the only words that he could say.
She looked at him, then started to shut the door.
"Diane," he put his hand in the doorway. "I'm...I'm sorry."
Not sure if it was the alcohol, the emotional or physical exhaustion causing her to hear what she thought she heard, she very slowly opened the door. "What did you say?"
"Something I should have said a long time ago. I don't know why I can't say it, why I don't say it...but I just have to."
"No, it's okay, you don't..."
"Diane! Don't you see? I have to say it...I owe it to you, and I owe it to myself. I hurt you, and for that, I am sorry. I know you don't ever want to see me again, but there, I said it."
He looked down, afraid of her reaction, of her laughing or mocking his weakness. But what she did surprised even him. She took his hand, and though they said nothing all night, they held hands, with her resting her head on his shoulder on the couch.
He didn't know how or why, but he knew the game had changed.
Now he was, more than ever, looking forward to the future that he'd thought too good for him. He knew that for better or for worse, Diane was the woman he would spend the rest of his life with. And that was one time he really, truly was not the least bit sorry.
