Aki- I've been away from the Gilmore Girls genre for a while. This is an idea I've had for about two years, which is basically themed chapters based off of pieces of poetry and literature, which seems to fit with Rory and Jess. It is based about one year post-series, which is, like now. Um, hope you like. It will probably all be written via mail

...

Jess,

I found myself staring at your name at the top of this page for ten minutes, not knowing what to write or why I decided to write you in the first place. This is not the first time that has happened. I never told you, but remember that summer when I was in D.C., after I kissed you at Sookie's wedding. I didn't contact you all summer. Remember? I tried to write you so many times, but every time I had a moment to sit down with my thoughts, I stared at a piece of loose leaf without a thought of what I should write down except your name at the top. Maybe it was I could never find the right words because I never knew what I felt, whether I was going to say to forget the kiss or that I was going to dump Dean as soon as I got back to Stars Hollow. I didn't know what I should have said until I saw you sucking face with Shane "Come Back" and my heart broke. It's not your fault, even though I blamed you then, thinking you could read my mind or something, to know what I wanted even though I didn't know what I wanted.

I'm having the same problem know. I don't know what I want from writing this letter to you. Consequently, I don't know what words to right to convey what I want to tell you. This is ridiculous and I'm rambling. I'm on a bus right now. In case you didn't know, I'm a journalist for an on-line magazine, covering Obama's campaign trail. I've been all over the U.S. It's not quite Christiana Amanpour, but it's a start. We have a lot of time on some of these extremely humid bus trips between editing articles and such. I was, well, reading, go figure, and something I read made me think of you in a really round-about way.

It's Shakespeare. Sonnet 116 or a part of it:

Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

This poem, well, it actually made me think of Logan first. God, you probably hate me for saying that, but then it made me think of you. You didn't understand how I could love Logan even after what he had done to me. Cheated on me. You didn't say it in so many words, but I could tell it from your face. Love is not really love unless you never give up on it. I looked on the tempests, the storms, I faced one of the worst betrayals someone you love could do to you, and I still loved him past any regret or anger or even resentment that built up in me for it.

This is a great explanation. A great rationalization. It's funny though, Logan and I, we broke up. We're done. Not because of anything bad he did either. He didn't cheat on me again, he never came close. He proposed. He wanted to marry me. I think I could have said 'yes.' I think I would have said 'yes' if things we're different. Not him, he was fine, but just things. The timing. Timing's everything, right?

So I said 'no.' I was not ready too move to California and settle down and give up traveling the world. I tried to tell him. I suggested long-distance again. We did it when he was in London for his job. But Logan said he didn't want to do long-distance again. But love is an ever-fixed mark. It shouldn't move, right? If I loved him enough to stay with him after him sleeping a whole bridal party, even though we may or may not have been on a break, and stayed with him when he was in London for his job, then why couldn't he love me enough to stay with me while I put my ass on a bus and traveled all over the U.S. It wasn't forever, either, just a while. And there were even times we were in one area long enough that he could visit me or me him. Was his love a love that altered and was bent or was removed because of the circumstances? Then I thought maybe it was me that didn't love him enough to marry him. Or maybe that's what he saw. But even if he did see that, if he really loved me that shouldn't have altered anything!!

I'm so confused. I guess this is really should be something I'm writing to Mom or Lane or even Logan himself. For some reason, for some reason I don't quite know, I'm writing to you. I don't know if I'm going to send this yet, still, so if you get it, well, then I did send it.

Rory