Gary Leonard Oldman

Note: The ideas for this story were created just over a year ago and have been sitting, untouched, in my files for quite a while. I scroll by the details and descriptions I wrote down all the time. But I figured I'd have a go at starting it two nights ago. I don't have much at the moment though. This was supposed to turn into a novella, of sorts, but I can't see that happening. My characters are Catherine and Sebastian. I modelled Catherine off Shania Twain and Sebastian off Orlando Bloom - just to give you a feel for what they look like.

Never fear! I shall never ever be upset with you over anything, it just isn't possible. I know I've said this on Tumblr already, but the internet trouble was driving me mad. Glad to be back though, and happy you like the sound of this.


Authors Note

Sorrow chokes emotions too much for them to surface. If you have spent the vast majority of your life wondering why you are alone, you are doing it all wrong. Some say the key to achieving happiness is through a great amount of patience, but they are narrow minded. In life, if there is something you crave, you must go out and find it yourself. Lingering in the shadows and waiting for your desires to pounce on you will do no good. There is no one but you who can create your destiny. No one but you who is able to perfect your life. Where love is concerned, matters are made much more difficult, however. One cannot simply go out in search of love and drag it back home kicking and screaming. No, in order to grasp and keep a hold of love, you must first learn to appreciate who you are. Complications may arise if this particular adamant lesson is not learned.

If you expect someone to fall in love with you, then you must surely love yourself first. Because, if you don’t think you are worth it, then no one else will think so either. Trust that you can find this; that you can strive to achieve it. It is not for the faint of heart, of course. Love has many a terrible road to travel upon, but for most, it is worth the excruciating pain it can cause. Hope is all you need to get by – believing that all will work out. Perhaps it will not, as you expect it to, but it will in some form. Try and try again if you fail the first few times. Love is always just around the corner, more so where and when you least expect it to be.

Trust only what you feel in your heart when it comes to love and devotion. Listen to your head if you must, but only when necessary. Your head, despite its logic, can often lead you down paths you later regret in life. Your heart tells you, always, your truest and deepest desires. Never fail to understand the power such an attraction can have upon your mind, body and soul. If you feel it everywhere, it’s a feeling you want forever, and you must be sure to remember just how important the other half of your soul is. Losing said half would only bring you torment; so be careful. Make no mistakes – but if you slip up – learn from them and don’t let it happen again. If everlasting love is all you’re searching for, make sure you do it right the first time.

Wasted words, moments, days, weeks, months and even years, will only be traumatic. Find what it is you’re looking for, get a good grip and never let go. If you’ve found your ideal match, they will never let go either. You’ll both fight for each other when times are tough. You’ll both be there for one another when life gets you down. And above all, you will love each other so much, it may feel painful when you are apart, which is a sure sign that you’ve done it right and earned all that you have within reach. Never let this go – never.

Chapter One {Neighbours}

I moved away from the coffee cup as the bitterness of its contents poisoned my tongue. The fact that I could not even properly brew a nice cup of decaf to begin my morning bothered me immensely. It was one thing after another these days; nothing seemed to go right for me at all. Even something as simple as boiling the kettle, tossing coffee beans into a cup and adding a few drops of milk. It also meant that my favourite breakfast would be an impossible task. Miniature pancakes, a dollop of cream and some raspberries. With a heavy sigh, I tossed the remainder of my drink into the sink which was already filled to the brim with tepid water. Bubbles floated on the top as though it had another coat, and I found myself barely able to see into the bottom. Again, something else I could not quite get right, no matter how many times I had tried.

Grunting in anger, I left the utensils where they were, allowing them to soak for a while longer. I had to get my mind off things somehow. There was little to do around here these days, especially over recent months. Losing someone I was quite close to and trying to come to terms with the fact that they wished to be cremated had taken its toll on me. No matter how hard I tried to ignore the aching at the pit of my stomach, it was always there, and I believed it always would be. My first loss – possibly the reason as to why I was taking it so hard. I also understood that my current state left me of little help to those around me. Family, to be precise. I’d shut myself out for the most part, after the horrible incident. But, that is a part of life. We live and we die and there is not a god damn thing we can do to prevent it. Some people wish to live, some wish to die, but for those of us who are hanging by a thread between the two, it’s complicated. Since that day some months ago, I was not the same person, and I wasn’t the only one who could see it. It was clear as day. Some had told me it was almost as though they received whiplash every time they spoke to me. I was bitter; void of emotion.

I felt enormous guilt every single day. Both for how I had turned into a completely different person, and for all the times I had opted out of certain plans involving the one whom I lost. Guilt, emptiness, anger, misery and god only knows what else, clashed within me every day. Numb would be a good a word as any to describe the way I felt in my core. My soul emanated absolutely nothing, but I knew not how long such a feeling would last. I could only pray that it wouldn’t stick with me throughout the rest of my life. Now, I had to be here for those around me, to look after everyone and keep their spirits lifted. Yet, I wondered how I was to do such a thing whilst my own spirits had been dampened. Somehow, I would have to try.

Love may have been a possibility. It is always a life saver – no matter what is going on with you at any given time. It always makes you feel more alive; free. Alas, it was the one thing I no longer had. Perhaps it might have given new meaning to my life after all that has happened, but all I am able to do now is wonder. To dream about all the ways in which it could have saved me; could. The word itself sounds hollow.

A faint buzzing sound entered my ears and broke my train of thought as I sat before my desk. My laptop was closed, as was my notebook. My pens and pencils lay scattered upon it. Maybe today still wasn’t a good day to pick up on my writing again. I’d been trying for weeks to get back into the swing of things, but had little luck. I felt as though everything was slipping away from me and there was nothing I could do to bring it back. I had, and these are all the words I needed to describe it, forgotten it all. My ability to write, my awareness of the world around me, and had completely lost the will to live. It felt as though the world was testing me somehow. This was a test for only me, because the weight I felt upon my shoulders seemed to grow each and every day. When one day passed, another brought on extra baggage for me to heave around.

Again, that same buzz snapped me out of my thoughts and brought me back down to earth, something that now seemed unusual. I lazily stood from my chair and trudged down the stairs. The outline of a shadow was visible behind the thin fabric of netting. I wondered, as I had not been expecting a visitor, who was standing on my porch at such an early hour. Regardless of the fact that it was actually after nine in the morning – I still found it confusing. Nonetheless, I pranced off the last stair and removed the chain from the door so I would not break the poor thing as I angrily greeted the intruder.

“Can I help you?” I asked, my annoyance quite clear.

On the other side of the door stood a man I never thought I would see again, not in a million years. In fact, I could have gone on believing it would be even longer still, had he not appeared out of the blue.

“I think you can” he said, his lips on the verge of a smile.

My bitterness toward everything included him, unfortunately. Though, in my defence, I was still rather irritated by the state in which we had parted ways many years ago. He should have understood that before he decided to knock on my door. It took little to no effort at all in realising my everything was still void of even a hint of emotion. Then, I wondered what he was doing here. After all this time, without any contact, why had he popped up out of nowhere and chosen to disrupt my already screwed up life.

I stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe as I waited rather impatiently for him to continue speaking, as there was no chance I’d be playing any guessing games. His smile still tugged at the corners of his lips, but it did not show. I wondered why – but didn’t much fancy asking.

“I heard, Catherine. I’m so sorry” he said, tilting his face toward his shoes.

Ah, so that was it. He had come all this way, interrupting his own life, just to give his condolences. I knew I should probably be thankful for him coming to see me, but he was too little to late if he thought showing that he still cared would phase me. My heart was now made of stone, or so it felt as such. Poor attempts at reaching its core would prove fruitless, no matter who was trying to achieve such a goal. Even I could not break its high walls lately. I had tried, countless times, to no avail. As we now stood opposite one another in silence, I suddenly felt uneasy. It had been such a long time since I had seen him, or even spoken to him, and here he was baring an open heart; and no doubt open arms for a long lost love. But I wouldn’t be buying into that again. I couldn’t, after all that happened. After broken promises and fading romantics, it would be impossible.

All I could do was nod my head, in response to his statement. I felt utterly ridiculous, which soon led to me feeling raw of anything. Some days I had spouts of emotion – they came and went as though they were dropping by just to say hello – and then they went. Today, right now, I couldn’t even bring forth a single hint of it. I must have appeared to him as a zombie of some sort. Dead to the world around me, without a need to bring myself back to life. It must have been frightening to witness from afar. What with my newly adopted pale complexion and battered arms and legs. My hair did not look any better than the rest of me, which was no surprise. It seldom ever looked decent. Now more aware of myself, I wrapped my arms tightly around my waist, almost protecting myself from everything around me, though I had nothing to fear. After all these years, I could still decipher that he wasn’t a threat to me. He never had been – and no matter what we’d been through – he never would be. That alone made me want to smile, but I found myself unable to do so.

“You came all this way to say you’re sorry?” I asked, tilting my head to one side.

Something flickered in his eyes and danced across his face as he absorbed my sarcasm. He never much liked it, but every now and then would find amusement in it, after adapting of course. Now, like mine, his face seemed to have lost all evidence of emotion. It was as though something had swiped it from him in a matter of seconds.

“No. Well, it wasn’t much of a distance. I live just around the corner,” he said, smiling awkwardly.

“Oh, you do?” I questioned, not in the least bit amused.

He nodded sheepishly, reaching his hand toward the back of his head and scratching it weakly. Now, I had made him feel rather nervous, and so he should. If there weren’t enough problems in my life right now. Maybe it was all just a game to him and he had purposely moved here just to torment me.

“When did you move?” I asked, hoping the ground would just open up and swallow him whole.

“A few weeks ago..” he mumbled, not daring to meet my eyes.

Fury; absolute fury and nothing more. I was amazed I could finally feel something, after all this time, but quite annoyed that it was such a cruel emotion. To have him move just across the neighbourhood and not tell me – made my blood boil. He had just stirred up an awful lot of hatred and he didn’t even know it. But if I am to be honest, I do not hate him. I couldn’t hate him. Many times had I tried to tell myself that I should, that it was the only way, but it just wasn’t possible. Either that, or my mind enjoyed playing tricks on me. Perhaps I was meant to feel all of this at once. Punishment, for something, though I couldn’t work out what.

Perhaps I had spent too many years doubting myself, as well as others. My negative attitude toward most things in life, including basic things, maybe this was my punishment; a lesson to learn from. Too often had people told me that only bad could come of such negativity, and too often had I ignored their words of wisdom. Only recently had I grown to understand fully what it all meant.

“Right” I said, reaching for the door to slam it in his face.

“Wait!.. I’m sorry, Cathy” he said, laying his hand on the door. “Can I come in?” he asked.

I was in no fit state to allow him inside, but the look on his face indicated that he really had to speak with me, so I gave in to temptation and opened the door a little wider. He seemed to force a smile as he stepped by me and into my home, glancing around as though highly intrigued. One of the few things in my life that had gone right was the interior and décor of my home. Being quite the artistic type, it was a given that my chosen colours, ornaments and oil paintings would be in such proper order. The colours, though I often liked to clash, were more or less complimentary of one another. But that was only the living area. The entire house had been painted and designed to my liking – as I am the one who spent at least a few months working on it all.

“Would you like a coffee? tea perhaps?” I asked, ushering him toward the sofa.

The sofa – an Irish cream colour, dotted with wine coloured pillows. It was by far my favourite piece of furniture in this particular room. My bed was easily the most treasured, out of everything I had.

“Coke, do you have any? or anything fizzy?” he asked, propping his elbow up onto the arm of the sofa.

I regarded him in silence for a moment, wondering why, now that we were older, he still craved such drinks. I realised too late that I was beginning to sound like my grandparents. But, it did make me smile a little at the thought of being like them. There was something else we had in common; something to add to the list I was currently creating in my head. The loss had left a gaping hole in my chest, solely because I could not figure out how connected we once were. Memories had faded over time as I had grown older, but bit by bit, they were coming back to me, more vibrant than ever before.

Nodding, I left him alone as he found the remote control and began flicking through every channel. Careless, in a way. Though I seldom ever turned the television on, so had no reason to complain.

Upon returning with two glasses of Pepsi, complete with a slice of lime and a straw in each, I found he had opted for the music channels. A smile played at the corners of my lips as a few memories flooded back, but I shunned them as soon as I caught his attention. The small, rounded coffee table between the sofa and a chair is where I chose to sit his drink. He had offered his hand out to take it from me, but I ignored him, intentionally. It didn’t seem to take him too long to understand I wasn’t in the best of moods, and that he wasn’t exactly in my good books. I didn’t even know how long it would be before I gave him a break.

As the television was quiet, silence fell upon us after he reached over for his glass and began sipping at his meekly. I was doing the same, however. Neither one of us knew what to say to the other, so there was a possibility that we’d be here for a while.

“So..” he said, breaking the silence, “How are things?” he asked.

I scoffed a little at his question. Surely he had not forgotten in such a short amount of time what had happened over the last few months. Still, he did not apologise or correct himself, he simply looked my way until I answered him. It took me a few minutes, but I came around.

Very short update and I apologise, but more will be added sometime this evening!

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“Wonderful.. just perfect, and how are things with you?” I said, my sarcasm irritating him.

“Catherine..” he began, scooting across the sofa until he was nearer to my chair.

He stretched one of his arms across the arm of the sofa and lay it gently upon my leg. My eyes darted down toward his hand, then back up into his face. I froze, almost glued to my seat as he rubbed my knee.

“I really am sorry” he said, his eyes filled with sadness.

In that moment, I knew. I understood that he really did care and he was concerned about my wellbeing. Maybe I had been too hard on him after all. And yet, I could not shake the feeling that this was wrong. That, we had not seen each other or spoken to one another in years – but here he was bringing me comfort after the death of a family member. I couldn’t quite put the puzzle pieces together.

“I know” I muttered, dropping my eyes down to my hands.

Before I was able to blink, he had gotten down on his knees and was now right in front of me. Both his hands reached for mine and he held them in his on my lap. Try as I might, I could not prevent my eyes from welling up with fresh tears. A few days I had managed not to shed a single tear – and now that someone was attempting to make things better – they were flowing freely again. Then again, perhaps a few crying sessions would do me the world of good. Preventing the inevitable would one day come back to haunt me, I believed, so why not.

As my tears continued to fall, I realised he had been speaking, but I hadn’t heard a word he’d said. He noticed that I was only becoming more upset as he spoke. Shushing, he raised himself from his knees and pulled me up to stand with him. I dared to look up into his hazel eyes; such beauty he held within them.

“I never stopped caring, Cathy” he whispered, pulling me into his arms.

That was enough for me. Despite all the pent up anger and sadness I had been feeling lately, I fell into his embrace and managed to attach myself to his shirt. My fingers curled into the thin material as loud sobs escaped my mouth. Only, they were soothed by his kind words and the softness of his fingers running through my hair. In that moment, the way I used to feel about him and admittedly, still did, came rushing back to me. My fingers clung tighter before moving up and my arms wrapped loosely around his neck. I soon found that his travelled downward after a while and held me around my waist. This was what I missed most. Being this close, and feeling the way I did. I craved it nearly every single day, but never would I let on to such a thing. Especially not to him. There was no doubt in my mind that he no longer loved me, or was in love with me, to be exact. How  wished he could find that again – but I understood it was probably too late for that now.

“Thank you” I managed to squeeze out, finally releasing my arms.

He gave me one last cuddle and pulled away himself. Immediately, I felt the loss of contact and wanted to be back in his arms again. Alas, it could not happen. It would be rather awkward.

“Sebastian, why did you not contact me over the years?” I asked, averting my eyes elsewhere.

Just as I thought he was going to ignore my question and storm off into another room, he lay his thumb under my chin and tilted my face toward him. Try as I might, I could not object to looking into his eyes. Every time I did, they captured me and I was lost. Now though, I tried to focus on what he was about to say. I had to know why he hadn’t bothered with me after we parted ways. After all those promises to remain in touch – remain the best of friends, I wondered what changed his mind. Surely it must have been something dramatic, else he wouldn’t have broken such a promise – he wouldn’t have told me it was not entirely over.

All that time I spent wondering what I had done wrong; I was now about to find out. He looked down at me with nothing but concern in his eyes, and I could not pull away.

“My own life has been pretty hectic. I had things to do and there was no chance of leaving them undone,” he said, and somehow, I knew exactly what he meant.

I nodded my head in understanding and reached up to grasp his hand, which he allowed me to do. There, a tiny smile appeared on my lips; a real one. I felt a burst of excitement and without much thought, pounced on him and knocking him onto the sofa. Unfortunately, I landed on top of him. We found ourselves all tangled up but highly amused at what had happened. My face flushed crimson and he grinned, tapping my nose gently and ruffling my hair as we tried in vain to get back up. It only resulted in us both falling off the sofa and onto the wooden flooring. Perhaps it was time to purchase a carpet – or a rug, of some sort.

“Thank you” I repeated, clinging to him a while longer before helping him up.

We spent the next few hours talking a little more, delving into the intricate details we’d both missed out on over the years. We found out quite a lot of new things about one another in such a short space of time. I found out that he had made it big with his skills as a computer technician – and he found out that I had achieved my life long goal of wanting to become a literary agent. Both of us had on the side jobs as well, though neither needed to build up on our income. Our jobs paid quite enough as it was. I was surprised to learn that he, like myself, had decided to freelance in his spare time. I had chosen to write articles and reviews, whereas he had chosen to stick with his profession and offered to give guidance to those who were struggling in the technology department. I had to admit – he had done so very well in getting this far with what he wanted to do. When we were together, it seemed a distant dream to accomplish, but he’d pushed through. I was incredibly happy for him and there was no doubt about that. He had stuck to his guns and made it. Only, I hadn’t quite reached the career I wanted, but it was all one in the same, I suppose.

A low howl reached our ears as we delved deeper into our conversation. It startled Sebastian and I had to giggle at the sight. The little bit of Pepsi he had left in his glass almost went all over his shirt.

“No need for alarm” I chimed. “It’s only my little Vixey.”

He looked incredibly confused as he set his glass down on the coffee table and turned toward the sound of approaching footsteps; an animals footsteps. I grinned brightly as my gorgeous little fox came bounding into the room, almost knocking me over as I greeted her just in front of the door.

“You.. have a fox, as a pet?” he asked, clearly puzzled.

“Indeed I do” I said, cheerfully as I guided her toward the sofa.

“Never seen that before..” he said, scratching his head.

I chuckled as Vixey noticed the visitor and perched herself on the floor right in front of him. One of her paws came up to rest on his knee and she sat still, silently, just watching him. Her dark brown eyes fixated themselves on his hazels and he seemed somewhat uncomfortable.

“Do you have any pets?” I asked, leaning back in my chair, watching their exchange.

Sebastian nodded his head, but before he had chance to speak, Vixey howled and raced off into another room, leaving us both in peace again. Still, he seemed shaken by the entire thing.

“A dog, yes. Husky to be exact” he said, tossing me a wink.

I bounced up and down on my chair at the mention of such a beautiful dog. He knew I loved them to bits, of course. I found them to be the most carefree of their species, as well as incredibly easy on the eyes. Though, at the time in which I wanted such a dog, I could not afford it. Come to think of it, I hadn’t been able to afford a pet at all, and so I brought Vixey in one day. The poor dear spent her nights curled up beneath the looming trees of a forest not too far from here. It seemed she had no family and no shelter – so I gave her a home.

“Do I get to meet him, seeing as you live local?” I asked, my eyes still lit up.

He laughed as he watched me, looking almost as though I would pop any minute now. Smiling, he stood from the sofa and offered me his hand.

“Now would be a good time, if you’d like” he said, pulling me from the chair.