5Author's Notes: Inspired by a few different things, but mostly Jodi Picoult's book Mercy. Spoilers for "Garage Sale."
Disclaimer: I don't own this stuff.
Lucky
"You know it's never fifty-fifty in a marriage. It's always seventy-thirty, or sixty-forty. Someone falls in love first. Someone puts someone else up on a pedestal. Someone works very hard to keep things rolling smoothly; someone else sails along for the ride."
- Jamie Macdonald, Mercy
Many people would consider her lucky, Holly reflects one day as she stands in her the kitchen of her parents' house, drying dishes. Her parents' failing health aside, she has many reasons to be grateful. She was able to find a job without too much trouble when it had suddenly become apparent that she needed to move out here and be with her parents. Many would argue that she's lucky to be able to spend such significant amounts of time with her elderly parents. And most of all, many would say she is lucky to have a fiancé so dedicated to her that he would leave the job that he loved and had been at for more than fifteen years in order to move across the country with her. That he would do all of that for her, just to be with her and to make her needs his needs.
Holly knows that she is lucky, and she truly appreciates these things. But sometimes she is consumed with guilt.
It isn't that she doesn't love him, because she does very much. He is her soul mate, other half, missing puzzle piece. Her happiest moments are those carefree ones when they lay in bed laughing about the little things in life. She doesn't know what she would do without him.
But sometimes, she gets the profound feeling that he loves her much, much more than she loves him.
He had done all of this for her. He had left Dunder Mifflin, and Dunder Mifflin was his life. "You're my life now, Hollybee," he said the morning of his last day at the office. And she smiled at first but later filed that statement in her mental file of things related to Michael that she frets over. She loves Michael with all of her heart, and he is a main character in the play that is her life…but her life is very big. She has her parents, for one. And all of her friends. Michael is a main character, but he doesn't take up all of the stage.
He can't imagine a life without her. She knows because he's told her this before. And God forbid, if Michael were to die, the loss would be crippling for a long, long time. But her life would go on. She knows this.
And his level of dedication to her is astounding. She will never forget that he picked up everything and moved into an entirely new state for her. She will always be grateful. Still, the guilt is there. It haunts her. If the situation were reversed, she doesn't know if she would do the same as he did. She doesn't know if she could pack everything up and start over. And that thought frightens her; it makes the fact that he loves her so much more, that their relationships is uneven so apparent. It makes her feel selfish. But then again, she supposes, if that situation did actually come to light and she were to refuse, she would be selfish.
And is it selfish, or at least self-centered of her, to not be able to love him as much as he loves her? To not be able to give as much as he gives?
Sometimes he puts her on a pedestal. He sees her as perfect; he is blind to her flaws. And it makes her feel all the worse. When they stand in front of a mirror, side by side, he sees her as an amazing person, the woman of his dreams. He tells her this, and she understands that she believes it. But sometimes she wishes he would see what she sees in that mirror: someone who is selfish and full of imperfections. It would almost be a sense of relief, like a weight being lifted from her shoulders.
That, she supposes, confirms her self-centeredness: her desire for him to know what she felt wasn't about him deserving someone better, more dedicated, but was merely a way for her to try to alleviate her own guilt.
So she is very much aware of the fact that she is lucky. But she also knows that she is equally as guilty.