Dislcaimer: I don't own anything but those poor words...
Summary: Sara's reflecting on the meaning of Happy Ending...CS
WARNING: Don't get fooled by the title it's anything but...
AN: Who shall I blame for this? Immi? Scuby? I think neither one...I wanted to join the club by myself, that being said people seem to want to see my killer instinct back...See? I still can be cruel... ;)
Enjoy (if that's possible)
ps: Thanks for the beta scuby
I always promised myself that I'd never bring it here. Truth is that I never trusted myself with it.
The funny thing is that it's supposed to make me feel safe. Well now that I'm facing it, it makes me feel anything but safe.
It's heavy and cold…a bit like my heart in short. I take a long drag on my cigarette and intoxicate myself with it. Yeah, I know I shouldn't smoke. There are a lot of things I shouldn't do. A lot I shouldn't have done.
I shouldn't have let you in that night. I should have pushed you away as hard as I could. No, instead I actually forced myself to be understanding and friendly. Another one of those brilliant ideas of mine.
I can't help chuckling when I think about how things went on from that moment. You know it's funny because before that night I had wished countless times for us to be friends…sometimes more. After that night though…
I don't know.
Cath, Cath, Cath…you should come with a warning saying 'heartbreaker on the loose'. That's what you are, a heartbreaker. Well at least you broke my heart. You gave me a beating heart only to take it back and crush it mercilessly. Now, I feel empty. Now I understand why people say that ignorance is bliss.
They're right. How blissful and happy would I be now if I hadn't known love in your arms? But that's history. Oh and don't go flattering yourself, you're not the reason I'm holding it now.
Our failed relationship is nothing but a drop in an ocean of failures. I think I need another cigarette.
I reach out for the pack in front of me, pull another one out and light it up. I like the sound going with the long drags I take. Silly detail, I know.
Speaking of which, it's just a detail, but I gave you everything I had in me. Now I feel like you sucked the life out of me. I'm dead inside.
You changed. That's what I hate the most about this whole situation. You changed. But then again, you've probably always been the way you are now. I was just too stupid to see it. You used me after all. Those were your own words.
I would think that growing up I'd have hoped I'd learn my lesson, but obviously I didn't. I always let myself get trapped and tortured. I must have a sadistic streak in me after all. I always give people a chance. Somewhere I want to believe they're good, when I know very well they're going to do nothing but hurt me.
I think it's in my nature. I've been raised with pain, now I need a regular fix to properly function. I feel an ironic smile on my lips. I've always thought that I'd do anything to avoid the pain. When I think about my life, I've always done everything to be in pain. It's in my nature, and you know what they say about zebras and their stripes.
God it's heavy.
I always thought it would end up this way. I never felt complete. Always empty. And even when I was with you, there was a tiny part missing.
There's a message from you on my machine saying that you hope I'm okay, that you are worried about me. I had a blast listening to it. You never really cared before so why you're pretending to now?
I haven't been at work for three days now and that's probably the best I did in almost three years.
I wasn't joking earlier when I said you're not the reason I'm holding it in my hand. I've reached my limit, that's why.
I've always seen myself as a sponge. I took everything in without a word, absorbed everything. Now I'm rejecting it all. No matter how hard I try, I can't do this anymore. All those things I held in are now oozing from me, making me feel even dirtier than I'm used to.
I wrote you a letter. It doesn't say anything much. I just thought I'd pour the last bit of my heart out once more. You'll probably be bothered by it but I'm way past the point of caring.
I'm ill. I've been for a long time.
Yes, depression is an illness. Just like my alcoholism. I've been blessed, as you can see. Don't get me wrong, I'm not self pitying. I've put up a fight with those two diseases. But it was a losing battle. You never get rid of it. You tame them but never overcome them.
The metal is cold under my palm. It's heavy. I promised myself that if I ever felt like I was losing my grip, I'd face it and end it all. I lost it and I'm past the point of no return.
I want you to know that in spite of everything, I love you. Silly detail I know.
The safety makes a click as I pull it back. I snort. Somehow I always knew it would end up like this.
Well, I should look on the bright side. For the first time in my life, I'm going to do something perfectly. What irony. It's in destruction that I've always been at the top of my game. I screwed up everything. But I don't think I have regrets. That would mean that somewhere I'm convinced I could do better given the chance. I know I wouldn't.
I don't feel sad. I'm actually smiling. After all there are more painful ways to go than swallowing my gun.
I've always wondered what my 'Happy End' would be like. I have to say I like this one.
Ok, now that it's done i'm going back to lighter subject...such as love...
Thanks for reading.