A/N:

Sorrow drips into your heart
Through a pinhole
Just like a faucet that leaks
And there is comfort in the sound
But while you debate
Half empty or half full
It slowly rises your love is gonna drown

Your love is gonna drown
Your love is gonna

-The Marching Bands of Manhattan, Death Cab for Cutie


Things happen slowly. Certain things need time to boil, to brew, until they're ready. Some of these things are worth the wait.

Most of these things are complicated, and intense, and so goddamn painful. They make us want to cry, and scream, and punch holes into walls. They make us want to jump, and laugh, and just smile. They make us grateful, happy, but they also somehow manage to make us regret so much. They make us want to hide. They make us vulnerable, and open, and so stupid.

But they're worth it. These things that do all this stuff to us... these things are worth it.

These things are worth it because for every moment that we suffer, every moment that we wish that we could just have a little bit more, there will be moments, eventually, when you look back and realize that if you hadn't wanted more, hadn't loathed that you didn't have more, then there are a thousand other moments you wouldn't have. Moments that say Sometimes I think you're from another planet. Sometimes I think you're really very nice. Moments that say That's a lot of heart, and Someday, you will. I promise.

For every time we almost do something to maybe change things, we hesitate. Even for just a second, and it changes everything. That second can decide wether or not you're really ready to bear your soul, empty out your heart and lay it all down for someone else to see. We think about the what-ifs, and the maybe-I-shouldn'ts, not because we're cowardly, but because we are brave. We know that we want it, but we give it up anyways. Because we know that in the end, in the grand scheme of the universe, we don't matter. Because if that one person doesn't want it too, then it doesn't matter.

Yes, to him, she matters. And to her, he matters. And that last trip to the hospital matters, and the trip before that. And the one before that. Because they were filled with moments. Moments, memories, that flow like water. The memories that they so desperately cling to, because what if they don't get more?

What if he's always too scared, and she's always too rational? What then?

Because, yes, she might not believe in all the things she feels, but she feels them, nonetheless. That's something she's been doing a lot of lately. Feeling. She knows that it's illogical, to feel so much. She has theses memories, and they make her feel so much.

So much more than she thinks anyone could understand, because really, who could?

Who knows what it's like to think Oh, God, maybe I do love my best friend, and What if they don't feel the same? Maybe she's not the only one who feels it, maybe we all do, but she can't really be certain. Because she's never felt that before, and it throws her off kilter. A lot.

And these things, these things that throw her so off kilter, that confuse her so much, and make her want to just scream because they feel so irrational; these are the things that he calls love. These are the things that make him say This is worth it. The things that make him refer to 103 inches of flat screen TV, and talk about a house that is ours and we and all of the things that they aren't. These things, the ones she doesn't really understand, she think that maybe they're worth all the trouble.

But it's hard for her to tell sometimes. Sometimes she has to stop feeling, and think. Rationalize. Sometimes she does need to make it logical. Because sometimes it's hard to tell if it's all worth it; if it's worth the struggle, the despair, the sorrow. The emptiness. And sometimes, it does look empty. The pursuit looks endless, unworthy, pointless. Ephemeral. Sometimes it's hard for her to see if a certain situation is a good thing- if the cup is half empty, or half full.

She thinks that maybe she's starting to understand that things take time -- good things take time. And sometimes you have to go into it without knowing if it will all end up okay, because maybe it's worth it. She understands that we can't all have everything, but she thinks that there are somethings, certain things, that everyone should get to have, get to feel.

She thinks that maybe everyone should get to feel so stupid, so lost because of the way that someone else makes them feel.

People should have to wait for the good things, because good things do come to those who wait. People should hvae bad things happen to the people that they love, only so they can realize what they really have. People should be grateful for the people and the memories that they do have, because she's learning all too quickly, too vividly, that eventually those things do stop.

People die, and people change, and people lie, and they hurt you. But sometimes there is one person, just one, who doesn't.

Maybe that one person can be a thing, maybe they can be one of those things that are slow; one of those things that take time to brew, to boil.

Because she's starting to think that maybe he is one of those things that make her thankful, and angry and totally fucking crazy. Maybe he is one of those things that make her cry, and talk about her time in the system, and that one time she had that job the Dairy Queen down the street. He is one of those things that make her want to punch him in the face, and lie with him late at night. One of those things that makes her realize that even though she won't watch a 103 inches of TV, he will, so she might as well splurge and buy it anyways.

And she has these moments that she can fall back on, these memories, that make her think what-if, and maybe.

The memories that she has... they make her rely, depend, on someday.

Because no matter how long it takes for someday, and eventually, to arrive, she thinks that maybe it's worth it.


FIN