[Theatrical Muse] Response
Jan. 22nd, 2007 11:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
his_sarah_jane"I never thought I'd say this, but..."
“…you see. Oh, Andrew,” Sarah said, a small sob escaping her. She blinked back the round of tears in her eyes that wanted so desperately to escape. She couldn’t cry; she had to be strong. “Andrew, I…I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t marry you.”
She didn’t even bother looking up at his face. She didn’t want to see the pain written all over it, pain she caused by those couple of words. She wanted to go back to five months ago, when her long time boyfriend had asked her to marry him. She had been so happy -- no, happy didn’t even begin to describe it.
Ecstatic.
They had met in a journalism class at Nottingham, one about the role of the media in the society. She had been an eager first year, already set on her path in the journalistic world despite the fact that Aunt Livinia had wanted her to go into the sciences. He was a year ahead of her, and the moment they began to chat (about a reading assignment, of all things), everything was perfect. Sarah never believed in love at first sight, or soul mates for that matter. But things with Andrew…things with Andrew were wonderful.
And then he graduated. And then he was offered a job. And then, two weeks ago at a dinner celebrating his success, Andrew laid down a proposition. He wanted her to give up school and join him in Bristol as he began his career with a local telly station. The day before that, Sarah Jane had been informed that she would be the editor of the uni magazine for her next year.
So, here they were now. Probably both broken hearted, Sarah realised with a pang in her heart. Broken hearted because neither of them could give up what truly mattered most: their mutual careers in journalism. They were stubborn, daft fools more in love with their potential than each other. But oh, she still loved him.
“Don’t you understand, Andrew?” Sarah spoke at least, placing her hand on top of his. She gave it a squeeze and finally forced herself to look up into his stormy blue eyes (they had always reminded her of the ocean). “I need to finish my time here at university.”
“But I love you, Sarah,” he finally replied, picking up her hand and playing with the ring still on her finger. “I want you to come with me. I want you to stay with me.”
“You want me to give up my own career to be a housewife.” She frowned, cringing internally at the word. If there was one thing Sarah Jane knew she wasn’t cut out for, it was that. “I…I can’t do that. I’d never make the proper wife.”
“I don’t care.”
But that wasn’t the case. Because if it was, he wouldn’t be asking her to give up so much. He’d let her finish her time here and go with a long-distance engagement. They’d get married after her graduation and find someplace where they could both chase after their specific dreams. It was an option she knew she wouldn’t get, though. Andrew always wanted the here and now…he never thought about what could lie ahead.
“I…I just can’t.” Sarah slipped her hand from out of his and pulled off the ring, placing it on the coffee table in front of them. Then, she tilted her head up to give Andrew one last kiss. One last kiss where she could say good-bye. I love you, but good-bye. “I’m sorry, Andrew.”
“So am I.”
“…you see. Oh, Andrew,” Sarah said, a small sob escaping her. She blinked back the round of tears in her eyes that wanted so desperately to escape. She couldn’t cry; she had to be strong. “Andrew, I…I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t marry you.”
She didn’t even bother looking up at his face. She didn’t want to see the pain written all over it, pain she caused by those couple of words. She wanted to go back to five months ago, when her long time boyfriend had asked her to marry him. She had been so happy -- no, happy didn’t even begin to describe it.
Ecstatic.
They had met in a journalism class at Nottingham, one about the role of the media in the society. She had been an eager first year, already set on her path in the journalistic world despite the fact that Aunt Livinia had wanted her to go into the sciences. He was a year ahead of her, and the moment they began to chat (about a reading assignment, of all things), everything was perfect. Sarah never believed in love at first sight, or soul mates for that matter. But things with Andrew…things with Andrew were wonderful.
And then he graduated. And then he was offered a job. And then, two weeks ago at a dinner celebrating his success, Andrew laid down a proposition. He wanted her to give up school and join him in Bristol as he began his career with a local telly station. The day before that, Sarah Jane had been informed that she would be the editor of the uni magazine for her next year.
So, here they were now. Probably both broken hearted, Sarah realised with a pang in her heart. Broken hearted because neither of them could give up what truly mattered most: their mutual careers in journalism. They were stubborn, daft fools more in love with their potential than each other. But oh, she still loved him.
“Don’t you understand, Andrew?” Sarah spoke at least, placing her hand on top of his. She gave it a squeeze and finally forced herself to look up into his stormy blue eyes (they had always reminded her of the ocean). “I need to finish my time here at university.”
“But I love you, Sarah,” he finally replied, picking up her hand and playing with the ring still on her finger. “I want you to come with me. I want you to stay with me.”
“You want me to give up my own career to be a housewife.” She frowned, cringing internally at the word. If there was one thing Sarah Jane knew she wasn’t cut out for, it was that. “I…I can’t do that. I’d never make the proper wife.”
“I don’t care.”
But that wasn’t the case. Because if it was, he wouldn’t be asking her to give up so much. He’d let her finish her time here and go with a long-distance engagement. They’d get married after her graduation and find someplace where they could both chase after their specific dreams. It was an option she knew she wouldn’t get, though. Andrew always wanted the here and now…he never thought about what could lie ahead.
“I…I just can’t.” Sarah slipped her hand from out of his and pulled off the ring, placing it on the coffee table in front of them. Then, she tilted her head up to give Andrew one last kiss. One last kiss where she could say good-bye. I love you, but good-bye. “I’m sorry, Andrew.”
“So am I.”
