Fool for Love

Disclaimers: These characters were created entirely by me. Please do not use them or repost this story without permission. This story features dark themes, mildly naughty language and a loving and sexual relationship between women.

“Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.”  These words hung above the blackboard in my 9^th grade history class, but I never really understood what they meant.  Probably because I never paid any attention to my 9^th grade history teacher.  I think I get it now, though.

When I look back at my recent history, I can see all the mistakes I’ve made.  First, I made the mistake of trusting someone too much. I gave someone my heart, and she handed it back to me on a plate.  What did I learn from that?  Not the right lesson, of course.  No, that would have been far too easy.  Instead, I learned not to trust anyone that completely ever again.

Then I met Faith and we clicked.  At first, I was content to be happily head over heels in love.  But before long, those whispering voices in my head began eating away at me.  Faith was too good to be true.  She was going to put my heart in a blender --- just like all the others before her.  So what did I do?  Fool that I am, I let my doubts overwhelm me.  And at the first chance I had, I tried to crush her spirit before she could crush mine.

Obviously, neither one of these tactics makes for a happy and stable relationship.  They didn’t do much for my own personal mental and emotional health, either.  Especially since I often have the maturity level of a five-year-old.  I sulked.  I pouted.  I whined.  I did everything except take a good, hard look at myself in a mirror.  Which is something I should have done a long time ago.  Luckily for me, I was given another chance to get it right.

When Faith called me on New Year’s Eve, I was shocked.  I was certain that she had forgotten all about me.  I thought she had moved on with her life.  After all, I was trying to move on with mine, although I wasn’t doing a very good job of it.  I just couldn’t believe that she might actually want me back.

So many thoughts and memories tangled together in my head as I drove towards the beach that night.  I remembered the first time we met, when Faith saved my life.  Sometimes I still wonder if someone upstairs deliberately put her in my path or if it was mere coincidence.

Cars rushed past me on the freeway as I drove, but I was oblivious to them.  I was lost in the memory of our first kiss.  It was so tentative and sweet, but it held such a promise of passion.  A preview of coming attractions, I suppose.

Several times, as I gazed out my dirty windshield, I almost remembered the look in Faith’s eyes on the night we broke up.  I did my best to push those images from my brain.  If I had allowed myself to drown in that guilt and shame again, I probably would have turned the car around.  I didn’t want to do that.  I wanted to see Faith again.  Hell, I needed to see Faith again.

The first raindrops began to hit my windows as I exited the freeway.  In just a few more minutes, I would be at the beach.  My palms grew sweaty and slick on the steering wheel and anxiety twisted my insides until my stomach churned.  Each red light lasted an eternity.  Each swoosh and squeak of my windshield wipers sounded like the ticking of a clock.

When I pulled into the parking lot, there were only a few lonely cars left.  Most of the town would be at the boardwalk for the big New Year’s celebration.  That was fine with me, since I didn’t want to see anyone else, anyway.  Only Faith.  I spotted her battered old Ford and my heart took permanent lodging in my throat.  She was really here.

Her car was empty, as I had expected.  She would be down on the beach.  I parked my car and crossed the asphalt to the wooden steps that led down to the sand.  My knees were quivering and my fingernails dug into my palms until I thought they would bleed.

The light rain became a steady downpour, but I scarcely noticed it.  I jammed my fists into the pockets of my jeans and started down the steps.  I was barely conscious, but my feet seemed to know where they were going.  I simply followed them across the dark, wet sand.

A jagged pile of rocks loomed before me --- the same rocks that I had been precariously perched on the night that I met Faith.  Tonight, she was sitting at the base with her knees pulled tight against her chest.  She stood as I approached.  Her long blonde hair was pulled back from her face, just as it had been the first time I had seen her.  She had lost weight, though.  The clothes that used to cling to every curve now almost hung from her frame.  But she was still beautiful.  The most beautiful sight I had ever seen.

Her gentle brown eyes met mine, and I melted.  I resisted the urge to reach out and take her in my arms.  It was probably a little too soon for that.  Neither or us had spoken yet, and I wondered if I should go first.  A dozen or so opening lines flitted through my mind.  I settled on the first question that I had ever asked her.

“So, do you come here often?”  My voice cracked, revealing my nervousness.

Faith blinked at me, and a sad, rueful smile twitched at the corners of her lips.

“Only when I’m looking for girls to rescue,” she said.

A tiny spark ignited somewhere in the depths of my soul.  Maybe we weren’t over, after all.  Maybe there was still hope.  Suddenly, words began tumbling out of my mouth without my permission.

I told her how sorry I was, that I had never meant to hurt her, that I loved her.  I told her that I understood her anger, that I didn’t blame her for hating me, that I hated myself.  I did everything except grovel in the sand at her feet.  I was saving that for later.

Faith’s eyes widened and filled with tears.  She shook her head slowly.

“Kara, I don’t.  I thought....” Her voice trailed off.

Without warning, she sank to her knees and buried her face in her hands.  Her shoulders shook violently and each low, strangled sob ripped through my heart.  Mentally, I kicked myself.  I sat down beside her.  I wanted to put my arm around her shoulders, but I wasn’t sure if it was the right time.  I wrestled with that question for a moment.  Oh, to hell with it.  I reached out and pulled her close.

“I thought you hated me,” Faith whispered without looking at me.

I couldn’t believe my ears.  How could she think that?  After everything I had done to her, how could she possibly blame herself?  Outrage welled up in me.  Didn’t she know that I was the fool?  Not her?

I lifted her chin and gazed directly into her eyes.  This was it.  If our relationship was going to be saved, this was the moment of truth.  Don’t ask me how I knew that, I just did.

“I could never hate you, Faith.  I love you.”

Then it hit me like a runaway freight train.  I could never hate her, because I loved her.  I loved her when we laughed together.  I loved her when we fought with each other.  I loved her, no matter what.  Just. Like. She. Loved. Me. As epiphanies go, this was a pretty important one.

I leaned back against the rocks and began to laugh weakly.  Faith eyed me somewhat suspiciously.

“What’s so funny?”

“I love you,” I repeated.  God, I loved how that sounded.  I laughed harder as my tears mixed with the rain.

“Why is that funny?” Faith demanded.

“I don’t know,” I admitted between fits of laughter.

She looked at me like I had crossed over into looney-toon land.  Then, tentatively at first, she began to laugh too.  We sat there for several minutes, laughing until our sided ached.

“You’re crazy, you know,” Faith said.

“Yeah, I know.”

Faith sighed.  “I guess we have a lot to talk about.”

I nodded.  She was right --- we had a lot of issues to work out.  Some of it wouldn’t be easy.  But for the first time, I believed that it was possible.

Faith nudged my ribs.  “Come on.  Let’s go home.”

Home.  I rolled the word around in my mouth, savoring the feel of it.  Faith didn’t get it.  I was here with her in my arms.  I was already home.

When we left the beach that night, I knew I was finally ready to start my life.  And I knew that my life was with Faith.  Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m still not sure I believe in fairy-tales and all that other nonsense.  But there’s one thing I have learned.  Love may not conquer all, but it’s a hell of a start.

The End