Now
by Samantha
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Faith and Buffy are Joss', lyrics belong to The ataris, in this diary.
Notes: Just a couple flashes into Faith's past before Wild Star happened, doesn't effect that one at all, I just like Maria =)
Feedback: Sure.
::here in this diary I write you visions of my summer it was the best I ever had there were chorus' and sing alongs and that unspoken feeling of knowing that right now is all that matters::
This weather always makes me sad happy.
It's windy, not stormy, just cool out, and the waves are crashing in. It gets like this and I just itch to be near the water. My grandparents had a little cottage on the beach when I was growing up, and whenever they got it in their heads during the summer they would come get me from Boston. They kept me till they got it in their heads that I should go back.
They drunk just the same as my mother, but never violent, always loving until they passed out, it never bothered me much. I knew worse at home.
Some of my best memories come from there, I didn't have a bedtime there, and some nights I can remember sitting in the big rocking chair on my grandpa's lap way later than any little girl should. But he would just talk, and talk to me, telling me stories of when he was growing up, pointing out constellations, anything that came to mind. The whole time you could always hear some old, real mellow jazz rolling out from the screen door, and I knew grandma was in there humming along, rocking in her own chair.
I never wanted to go to bed; I would fight it till my little body would almost collapse, running around catching fireflies, looking for shooting stars. Finally I would crawl back up onto my grandpa's lap, tuck my knees up under whatever old shirt of his I had chosen to sleep in, and snuggle into his chest. I always tried, but could never remember him carrying me into my room.
This is my safety weather.
Leaving work Maria suggested we head for the water, like she could read my mind. Of course I agreed readily. Now neither of us are really talking, which is about as rare as anything, but for some reason it's comfortable. She's a good friend, and I love the time I spend with her, but I would give anything for Buffy to be here now.
"You're thinking about her again aren't you?" Maria asks.
"Yeah," I give her a sheepish smile, I'm not sure she can see it in the dark. "How'd you know?"
"You get that look in your eyes, like you're not even here."
"Sometimes I wish I wasn't," I answer turning back to the water.
"But I couldn't make it through work without you," she says with mock sadness.
"You made it through a year of work without me," I answer, trying not to smile.
"Yeah, but that was hell."
"I just wish things could be different for me and her," I sigh. "If we could just get our shit straight, work things out," I let the sentence drift off into the wind, not sure where I was going with it. "But at the same time, this is good."
"Working at a crap job for shit pay?" She asks.
"A world of no," I say dryly. "This, right here, you, me, sand, waves, wind. I am basking in the perfectness of now."
"Aren't we feeling good tonight?"
"When you've been through the shit I have, you gotta learn to recognize when things are right."
"And this is good?" She asks, looking over at me.
"This is great."
"But you still wish she was here?"
"Oh yeah."