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already_lostLaura didn't expect him to come to her, but when the weeks turned to months without any sign of him, it began to dawn on her just how badly she'd fucked up.
Maybe in the vindictive, childish corner of her brain, she did want him to come crawling, begging, with some grand romantic gesture, even knowing how unfair it was. And how it wouldn't have fixed anything. Not in her, or in him.
They were both broken, and she used to think they were broken in a way that fit, but now... Now she was sure.
She missed him, but in the months since she'd seen him, she'd realized that she didn't need him. She didn't need anyone. She was somehow all in one piece, still sober, with only herself to count on.
And it was amazing. She couldn't remember a time when she'd actually been proud of herself for anything, really. But this... this mattered.
She still needed to talk to him. He deserved that. So, finally, she walked to his apartment, bundled up against the chill and looking up at the twinkling Christmas lights decorating the city here and there. The streets were full of last minute shoppers. People who were stressed and happy and lonely and in love. And despite the mess she'd made of everything, she didn't feel so apart from them all.
Outside his building, she drew in a breath and pushed the button to be buzzed up, leaning in to the intercom to say, "Chuck? It's me."
Maybe in the vindictive, childish corner of her brain, she did want him to come crawling, begging, with some grand romantic gesture, even knowing how unfair it was. And how it wouldn't have fixed anything. Not in her, or in him.
They were both broken, and she used to think they were broken in a way that fit, but now... Now she was sure.
She missed him, but in the months since she'd seen him, she'd realized that she didn't need him. She didn't need anyone. She was somehow all in one piece, still sober, with only herself to count on.
And it was amazing. She couldn't remember a time when she'd actually been proud of herself for anything, really. But this... this mattered.
She still needed to talk to him. He deserved that. So, finally, she walked to his apartment, bundled up against the chill and looking up at the twinkling Christmas lights decorating the city here and there. The streets were full of last minute shoppers. People who were stressed and happy and lonely and in love. And despite the mess she'd made of everything, she didn't feel so apart from them all.
Outside his building, she drew in a breath and pushed the button to be buzzed up, leaning in to the intercom to say, "Chuck? It's me."
