Title: Leaving Home
Part: 1
Author: Isis
Email: [email protected]
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be mine. I've accepted this. Sort of
Summary: Maria finds the strength she needs to do something she knows
she has to do.
Category: Michael/Maria
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Grab a box of tissues. As anyone who�s ever read my writing knows, I just don�t write happy things. Trust me� get� the�tissues.
Distribution: Oh please, take it! Post it! Just tell me where.
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It was a brisk September morning when she found the strength she�d
never thought she�d have. Maybe it was the faint bite in the air,
stinging her cheeks. Maybe it was the haze of a fog her breath made,
hanging in the air. But, she started to run. She�d found her courage
and if she slowed down she knew she�s lose it. And, she knew it would
never find it again.
�I can�t do this anymore,� she said to him, out of breath and near
tears as soon as she burst through their front door. �I can�t stay
with you.�
�What?� he asked, taken aback.
Things had been going well for them for a while, actually. He�d
gotten a job as a repair mechanic at an auto shop and she�d gotten a
raise at the bar. More money didn�t solve all their problems, but it
did make the day-to-day debates as to whether they should buy Tabasco
sauce or milk disappear.
�I can�t,� she whispered, tugging at the ends of her short, blonde
hair. She was unable to look him in the eyes. He looked at her for a second with confusion and a hint of pain written across his face. Most people would never have seen it. Most who would have seen it wouldn�t have cared. She did both.
�Why?� He asked.
It seemed so simple as she�d run home, her uncomfortable work shoes
dangling from her hand. Now, she couldn�t even begin to find the
words to explain.
�Because I love you,� she said, staring at his lips in an effort to
avoid eye contact. She soon realized that his lips were a terrible
choice. They made her think of countless, incredibly intense and
passionate kisses she�d never feel from him again.
�What the hell does that mean, Maria?� He asked, frustrated and
annoyed.
�It means a lot of things,� she said slowly, trying to settle on
another spot to stare. She�d tried his ears, but those too brought
back fond memories.
�It means I�m afraid, Michael,� she said, crying.
�Of what? Would you stop talking in circles and try to work this out?� He asked, moving towards her.
She held up her hand, a silent plea for him to stop. She didn�t think
she could do this if she smelt his shampoo or his breath or anything remotely him.
�I�m afraid you won�t love me enough to stay, when you find a way
home. And I�m afraid you�ll love me too much to go. I don�t know which idea scares me more,� she whispered, finally settling her stare on a painting he�d done that hung just behind him.
�What is it you want from me, Maria? How am I supposed to do both?�
He demanded.
�I don�t know,� she yelled. �Maybe that�s the problem. May you can�t
and I resent that I�ll always be in question in your life. Maybe I hate that I�ve spent four years living with you and I know that I will always, always love you more than you will ever love me. Maybe I�m scared of losing something I never really had, but convinced myself was real.�
He paused for a moment, sat down and stared at her trying so hard to
stay strong. �I do love you,� he said.
She looked at him then, straight into his eyes. It wasn�t something
he said often.
�I know,� she smiled through drippy mascara. �But, love can�t solve
everything, Michael. It just can�t.�
He nodded, �So you�re leaving me because of things I may or may not
do one day? That�s crazy, Maria.�
�No,� she smiled, �I�m leaving you because no matter what you do, I
don�t think I could handle it. I can�t let myself love you even more and have to let you go suddenly one day. And I can�t be responsible for keeping you from finding out who you are, where you come from. This isn�t about you, Michael, it�s about me. It�s selfish and painful and I will regret it the moment I walk out that door, but it�s something I have to do.�
�You�re really doing this,� he said, shocked.
�I am,� she told him, though she didn�t need to. He knew. And, like
it or not, he understood.
He�d wanted to kiss her, to grab her and beg her not to go. He�d
wanted to drown her in passions she could never escape from or want to. But he couldn�t. He couldn�t do that to her. He loved her enough to let her go.
He didn�t say another word to her after that. He wasn�t angry at her, not really. Surprised, yes. He was surprised she�d found enough strength to break it off. He was sure he�d never have been able to leave her and, though she didn�t know it, he�d already decided years before that he wouldn�t even leave her for his home.
She�d packed a bag and left as soon as she could. She didn�t say
goodbye and she didn�t look at him again. Years later, she�d look back and wonder if she really was right, if she had loved him more than he�d loved her. He hadn�t disputed it at the time, but she couldn�t help but think that if their situations had been reversed she wouldn�t have loved him enough to let him go.
The End