Title:  She's out of my life

Summary:  J/H: The fun is over.  Hyde cheats.  Jackie dumps.  Hyde contemplates what he has lost and what comes next.

Disclaimer:  Ain't mine.  Or it would have stayed wine and roses.  Who needs drama anyway?  Can't people just stay happy?  I thought this was a comedy show.  

Statement:  Okay I had quit for a while.  Due to the new course of plot and my aversion to angst.  But I thought I would go along.  Trust that T70S won't hurt us too much.  But if they do at least we have fan fiction.  They can't kill the love there. 

I've learned that love is not possession.  And I've learned that love won't wait.  And I've learned that love needs expression.  But I learned too late.  Willie Nelson: She's out of my life.

Yeah I screwed up.  I blew it.  I suck.  I'm everything I've always hated.  A cheater, a liar, a quitter.  Cause that is what I did.  I quit.  Because it was getting too good.  I was becoming too happy.  Too settled.  To convinced that it was real and that I may not die alone.  So I had to screw it up.  I know how to handle loneliness.  I know how to handle pain.  Fear – hope, these were new ones.  Jackie introduced me to both.  Fear that she would leave me.  Wake up one day and realize that I wasn't good enough.  That she deserved better.  Hope that she wouldn't.  Hope that I was.

 So I had to do something.  Kelso was my safety net.  If things got too scary I could always fall back on my old insecurity over him.  Not that I really had any.  I knew she never really loved Kelso.  He just fed her ego, provided attention.  No I knew that Kelso was no real threat.  But he was my excuse.  Things got too real I decided to be jealous, doubt her feelings, pick a fight.  Remind myself that I wasn't supposed to be happy.  I wasn't supposed to feel complete.  With holes you can keep yourself grounded.  Have physical proof of the crappiness of life.  Well the crappiness of my life.  People like Foreman can be complete.  I need to stay on guard, be prepared for whatever is going to happen next. 

I had forgotten that for a while.  Let it all go.  Been happy with my fragile girl.  My crystal butterfly just waiting to be shattered.  And I swung the hammer hard.  She was crying.  Crying because of me.  Crying because of what I had done.  To her.  On purpose.  Just to keep myself from being happy.  Just to hurt myself.  But it didn't really occur to me until after I had done it that it would hurt her too.  I was just trying to save myself.  And it is incredibly stupid of me to think that is what I did.  I'm sitting here.  Thinking, hurting, hating.  My life, my world, my self.  I'm hating everything.  I'm hurting so much.  I didn't know I could hurt this much.  Zen tends to trick you into thinking that no matter what happens you can handle it.  If you don't focus on every day emotions – then you aren't prepared for the out of the ordinary –god this is what it must feels like to die –emotions.  And in my apathetic rush to save myself from the life I was building with Jackie –the good future that I should not have been afraid of – I have destroyed myself.  Opened myself to something I may not be able to close. 

She cried.  She looked at me like I had shot her.  Like I had reached in her chest and pulled out her heart and told her it was ugly.  She looked so sad.  So wounded.  And behind that I could still see the love.  The love that she won't deny –and won't take back –because that is just who she is.  Shallow, materialistic, sometimes inconsiderate –but all the time loving.  Open, generous, and so eager and willing to be happy.  The opposite of me.  And that is one more way I could justify my behavior -say –"good it would have never worked anyway".  But I can't because I think it would have.  If I had just been able to stop myself.  Why didn't I try harder? 

So I'm standing here.  I'm thinking, hurting, hating.  And I'm trying to do more of the first than the next two –because they will get me nowhere.  I have to get her back.  I have to figure out some way to make myself worthy of her love.  Or accept that I may never be and hope she can see fit to take me back anyway.  She says our problem is trust.  It always has been.  I could never trust her and now she doesn't trust me.  I think what I need to do is trust myself.  Trust that even if it doesn't last that what we had, what we may have again will be worth any future pain.  You can't stop living just because you are afraid to die.  Because doing to first would cause the latter.  I don't know when I got so damn deep.  Melancholy will make you think you have figured it all out.  She says that she loves me.  She says it with that sad -you killed me- look.  And I say it back and it makes the look worse.  Leave it to me to make even those three words a weapon.  God when did life get so real? We were suppose to be shallow, a way to pass the time.  We weren't supposed to turn into the real deal, love, the never-ending kind.  But god I pray we did.