denial and depression, regret, recovery and reconcilition.
Irony was a friend that liked to stay close, and although Los Angeles was a big city and the bar was loaded that night, irony led her to him. With another girl, the situation would never change, he was always with another girl, it would never matter who, always beautiful, always falling all over him, far too uninterested in who he really was to care about what he had to offer on the inside; but she knew it would never stop him.
Jealousy was a downfall of Sophie's personality, a bug that ate away at her from the inside out; but walking away from that very moment, her composure didn't buckle. Phases of emotions usually followed, depression and denial, to regret and recovery; it was a system that played out from time to time, provoked by a video on television, a picture in a magazine or the sound of a song she knew was written about her, but instead of coming and going, no phase came at all.
Denial was the stage she had come to depend on; but acceptance was what those around her made of it, unaware of the emotional turmoil brewing inside of her. Taking a shot at making their "situation" work once more, nothing but pain came of it. Crashing and burning for a final time, their relationship came to an end with an emotional blowout; Sophie walking out once more on the man she couldn't find in a boy that she once knew. It was complicated, but it was always going to be complicated; he was always going to be a train wreck, it was always going to be a whirlwind of moods and emotions, a rollercoaster of ups and downs. Change would never settle well in either of them, and he had changed, but he was the first to admit it; he wasn't the same Pete, the same Pete that he once knew. But he was the same Pete that she had once fell in and out of love with, he would always be, and she would learn to admit it to herself and to the cause of saving them once more.
Distractions would come and go for both before the revelation would occur, her latest, Andrew, a partner at a law firm downtown Los Angeles; they met at a bar and he kept her mind occupied .. for the most part. Taking a moment away from reality, Sophie believed that she may have loved him, but he didn't love her and he never would. Leaving her before she could fall comfortably into his life, he returned to an old flame, the love never faltering despite his attempt at distraction. Knowing it would happen; Sophie took it in stride and found her mind wandering once more to the man of her dreams, and the boy he had reverted back into.
Asking herself once again why she agreed to this, she took a deep breath, the blaring music helping to calm her rigid nerves. Natalie flashed a sincere smile from two stations away; she had to admit that the pampering of the hair and make-up was a serious positive bonus, but the runway wasn't a place she would ever feel comfortable, she wasn't a model. But somewhere in side of him, he believed that she was.
Playing the same games as they have gone through so many times before; he called and he text, sent emails and left voicemails every attempt shot down from the start; now 6 months later, they've recovered from the avoidance of the failed attempt at a relationship built on airports and empty promises. After a surprising attempt in the form of a written letter, she gave in to speaking to him again, making him a part of her life, and becoming the face of his attempt at a fashion line. Feeling guilty, she agreed, owing him a favor or two; but under the condition that Natalie could take part in it with her, for company or support, as her backbone and glue.
Attitude was everything, and Sophie sure knew how to put her game face on. By her second walk down what was considered a runway, and second outfit change, she had it down, and the adrenaline was rushing through her veins at a lightening pace. Watching from the distance, he laughed to himself; fooling around with Natalie backstage, dancing to the music, she was adorable and he couldn't help the smirk forming over his lips or the familiar feeling lurking inside of him, his stomach churning to the thought of their rollercoaster of heartbreak.
Taking her hand, he pulled her to accompany him down the runway for one final walk and a bow as it ended; letting go of his grip the moment her feet landed behind the curtain, he wanted to follow her, to tell her that he was sorry, and that he needed her to be okay, but he was pulled in a hundred different directions, the infrastructure of his life standing in the way of his happiness.
Falling apart as time progressed, the six months of avoidance left them like strangers in a crowded room, drifting farther apart than they have even been before and would be again. Using it was an excuse to ignore the problem at hand, she denied the feelings she knew were inside her, assuring that they wouldn't just fall back into place this time with a flip of a switch.
Chasing after her as she left the show, he begged for her to give him a chance, but holding the tears back and fighting the urge to fall into the safety of his arms, she reminded him that their lives had changed, branching off onto different roads that would never again meet at an intersection of content happiness.
With a sadness growing in his eyes, he pleaded for her to let him try again; he needed her in his life, it was empty without her and he couldn't make it alone, proposing to forget about the past, to attempt at a new start. Differences in their needs wouldn't allow it to happen, he needed her in his life, but there had been too drastic of a change, and he could never be what she needed. Uninterested in what he was now, she didn't need a reckless, hopeless boy, a train wreck of emotion, decked out in the latest fashions, make-up and medicated happiness; in jeans that he had probably stolen from her years ago, she didn't need an international rock star, jet-setting from continent to continent making teenage girls swoon with every move he made, attempting to save the world.
Sophie needed Pete, the Pete she once knew who would camp out at her house in the same old pair of sweatpants and whatever t-shirt he could steal from her closet, with week old stubble and no make-up or forced magazine smile plastered on his face, the boy who she knew she saw cry at her college graduation no matter how hard he tried to deny it, the boy who would take the time out of his day to call no matter what, just to hear the sound of her voice. She needed her Peter Pan, who would trek the globe through thick and thin just to crawl into her bed and hold her, who would try so hard to save her, instead of saving the world.
Skipping out on after parties and glamorous events, he now stood at the door to her room, in old sweatpants and a t-shirt, the t-shirt she had given the day she left for California; his un-groomed hair falling into his eyes, dark circles around them, puffy and red from scrubbing away the eyeliner, with no shoes on his feet and an empty sadness in his eyes.
With tear stained cheeks and a watery glisten in her eyes, sniffling away the last of her tears, she let him in without saying a word, and crawled back into her bed. As he crawled into the bed beside her she inquired as to what he could possibly have left to do or say to her; she had referred to him by his full name. It haunted him, echoing through his ears. There were only two occasions that provoked her to call him Peter; out of anger, usually in a fight, or at the brimming peak of sexual satisfaction, and this very moment would never fit into either of those situations, causing an unexplainable feeling inside of him.
Wrapping his arms around her, and pulling her close without answering her question, she began to cry once again; burying her face into his chest. Tears fell faster as the moments of silence passed by, they gave her away, they gave away her feelings and he knew everything that was going on inside of her without the exchange of words. Scared out of her mind, she was afraid of this feeling that he caused inside of her, this feeling that she had spent so long trying to destroy. Trying to fight the feelings raging inside of her, she continuously reminded herself that he couldn't do this; he wouldn't just walk in and change the situation. He couldn't just change his clothes and wash off his face and expect everything to be better. But he was, and with his fingers gently running through her hair, she believed what he whispered in her ear, everything would be alright.
Declaring his hopeless undying love for her, he broke the barrier of silence, ushering in a new wave of tears, and the revelation of her finally giving in to what he heart was telling her, admitting that she was in love with him and that she couldn't fight it off any longer. Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, he brushed stray strands of hair out of her eyes as her tears fell harder; this was the man that she remembered, breaking himself free from the boy she would never find hope in. Falling asleep together that night, holding her in his arms as her tears ceased to flow, the pieces of their lives fell back into place, but this time, in a different design and a different patter than they ever have before.