Glee Oneshots

Dear Santana

Dear Santana Marie Lopez,

It's okay.
I mean, for a while it wasn't.
I was hurt, and confused.
I thought you liked me. At least, enough to come and meet me.

Now I understand. To come and see me, would be to reopen the past. Bring back horrible memories.

Because high school was horrible, wasn't it?

I know you faked a smile. Everyone did, towards the end, apart from Rachel. And maybe Finn.

Shit happened to both of us, and we were expected to just move on. Like a slowed down song is enough to heal the damage done by the same idiot.

I mean, rest in peace. But seriously.

It's all in the past now. And I'm not writing you this letter to rant about the fools we happened to be in the same high school as.

It's fine that you didn't come to see me. I stayed at the cafe for a couple of hours, then went home.

A while later I got your letter. Things started to make sense again. I read it over and over. I didn't realise how much I'd missed having someone that cares about me.

One day I'll visit you. I'm not making any promises, because that's never been our thing.
But I'll do it.

You asked about my ex girlfriend.
Her name was Marie. And I think I might have actually loved her.

She was beautiful, in the way that I couldn't take my eyes off of her. And any time she did something wrong, that should have upset me, I couldn't bring myself to get angry.

She had round green eyes, with little hazel circles around the middle. Her hair was brown, and was permanently in one of those 90's blow-outs.

Her favourite colour was blue, and she had an older sister, who lives in New York.

We met at the cafe where I went to write. We became friends first, then best friends. Then at some point, we started to go out for dinner together, and stopped correcting people when they assumed we were dating. That was when I knew.
I still had enough pieces of my heart to love.

She was no Santana Lopez.
But she didn't need to be.
She was perfect as she was.

You asked what happened. It can be summarised, and categorised into 3 sections.
3 arguments.
First off, she didn't like how I never told her much about my past. She couldn't understand why I wouldn't talk about it. That led to argument no.1

Next, she found it difficult to be physically affectionate towards me. Apparently I'm awkward.
I argued back. Said that I tried, but I'm just not very good at it. I'm not talking about sex. As you know, I'm pretty good at that. I'm talking about holding hands, kissing, hugging. I'm not very good at that.

That was argument no.2. Possibly my fault.

Last, though, actually hurt. It was when I was invited to her parents house for dinner. Her sister had come back, and I was getting properly introduced.

I didn't fit. Her family were so lovely, and noisy, and caring. It's the kind of family I used to dream about. But because my family aren't like that, I didn't know what to say, or how to act.

Marie mistook my shyness for being rude. I tried to explain myself, but she wouldn't listen.
That was argument no.3

There was no argument no.4

We sat down like grown ups, and discussed our relationship. We agreed that we would be better as friends, since we did get on well. And she thanked me for being a good girlfriend. I was the first girl she had ever dated, following a long line of dumb boys.

She has a boyfriend now. And it hurts me to say it, but he's better suited to her than I ever was. He's kinder than me, and a lot funnier. His family are better than mine. In conclusion, he's just better than me in pretty much every way.

That was the first breakup that made me actually feel sad. Like, I was missing something.

She was a beautiful chapter of my life. But like all good things, she had to come to an end.

That's why I have faith in us. Because I don't think I'm a good thing. And, while you've no doubt improved since high school, I don't think you're quite an angel yet. So, by that logic, we should be pretty much unstoppable.

I never did think that you and Brittany would last. Your world became so much bigger than her, the second you graduated. And she couldn't cope with the fact that she wasn't the only thing that you would ever think about.

Don't get me wrong, what you two had was special. And for a really long time, she was the perfect person for you. Two halves of the same circle.

But then there were times when she pushed it. Like leaking your sex tape, or kind of outing you way back at the start of the Glee club. And I saw how it hurt you, but you wouldn't say anything, because that might mean you lost your one good thing.

I know how that feels. Trust me.

And I'm the one who should be sorry for leaving. But I've never stayed until morning, after sleeping with someone. Not even with Marie. I would make an excuse about an early class, or homework, and disappear off.

Not even that awful first time, where I waited until I had sobered up, then climbed out of the window and walked home, sore and sad and angry.

Its the intimacy afterwards that scares me.

But as I write this, I'm now realising that this wouldn't have been the case with you. It wouldn't have been awkward. It would have been nice. Like those sleepovers we had when we were younger.

Back when your bedroom, with the faded pink wallpaper that you had almost completely covered with posters and the bed piled high with mismatched blankets and cushions, was the safest place in the world for me.

We could lie in the darkness, and whisper our secrets to each other. Since we couldn't see each other, it was like we weren't actually talking.

But then you started inviting Brittany, and she ruined it. For a start, she demanded that the light was kept on, and then she would lie beside you, and complain there wasn't enough room.

The last time we had a sleepover, was the last time I was in your bedroom. Brittany said that I should sleep on the camping bed, since I was the biggest one out of the three of us.

I left and went home. And cried. And started to ask Coach Sylvester for more advice on losing weight. I threw myself into the training sessions, to the point where I was literally the best there.

That's how I earned my captaincy.

Is your bedroom still the same? Did you ever change the wallpaper, or is it now completely buried under posters and pictures.

If you were to pull back the bottom right hand corner of the Amy Winehouse poster, are our names still inked onto the wall, hearts drawn around them?

I'm so happy that your finally happy. You've spent so much time trying to be what others want you to be. It's tine for Santana Lopez to be who she wants.

I think that I might come and visit you. No pressure (and I know I say this in every letter), but I miss you so much. Even just reading the words you write, and pretending that you are talking to me, is enough to warm my cold heart, and make me smile.

Thank you for giving me the advice about talking to Kurt. I didn't do it, but its nice to know that there's someone I could talk to.

But you're the one I want to talk to most. You know me, sometimes better than I know myself. Or rather, knew myself. You're the one I told my secrets to, about my parents and Puck and, you know, everything else.

Out of everyone I have ever encountered in this miserable world, you are the only one who I've ever felt truly connected to.

Both in and out the bedroom, of course.

So, naturally, that would lead me to believe that you are a sort of 'soulmate' to me.

Or maybe you're just my best friend. I guess only time will tell.

All my love, and more.
Your Lucy xxx