(no subject)
Title: Second Best
Author: fc2001
Rating: FRT
Disclaimer: Without Prejudice. The names of all characters contained here in are the property of everyone involved in the making of ER. No Infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission. Plus, I own nothing worth having except an 18 year old Micra and my toaster - neither of which I can really live without.
Spoilers:None!
Content Warning: Erm. It’s a bit depressing. But no swearing or sex or anything. And it’s very very odd, I do apologise. I just wondered, what about those who come after…? Ray and Neela are meant to be, but what if the fates have other ideas…Sorry. Damn. It was written in about half an hour, and hasn't been betaed - so any mistakes are mine and I apologise sincerely.
Second Best
It’s hard, you know, being the woman after the lover before. I don’t think I fully appreciated exactly how hard it would be. I think its because I was in way too deep before I found out about her. He has a way of getting people like that - he’s smart, and sexy and just ever so slightly damaged. He’s hurt by a past he can’t forget, and will never forgive.
It’s tough when you know that he loved so intensely before. That the flames of their love burned so brightly, but so briefly, that they’ve burned a permanent scorch mark into his heart. And it hurts like hell when you realise that he will never love anyone like that again. Not even you. No matter how you try. No matter how fabulous you are, how much you smile or laugh at his jokes. No one will ever be the same. Your laugh isn’t her laugh; your smile isn’t her smile.
I’ve never told him any of this. How can I? He would just say - he doesn’t want me to be her, he wants me to be me. But he’s never with me 100%, there’s always going to be a part of him that wants to be with her. And I don’t know how much longer I can cope with that. I’m living with a dead woman, and it’s tearing me up inside.
Neela. Dr Neela. Damn. I hate the woman, and I never met her. She was perfect. His memory of her is perfect and she’s up there on this completely unbreakable pedestal. And it kills me to be jealous of her, because what happened to her shouldn’t have happened to anyone. No one will ever be the angel that she was. No one will ever captivate him quite the way she did. I wonder if she sees all this from her place in the great beyond - if she sees the shell he is without her around - the falseness in the way he’s trying to get things back to normal, the way he’s trying to carry on a normal relationship.
He tries not to talk about her around me. I can see it in the strained expression sometimes, when I know he’s thinking about her, but he looks at me and doesn’t say anything. I know he wants to mention her. She was a huge, immoveable part of his life. I can’t change that. I wouldn’t want to try.
I just don’t want to be compared to her. I don’t want to have to wonder how I measure up to his yardstick of perfection. I don’t move the same, I don’t talk the same - everything about me is different - from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes. But I can’t help wondering if he looks at me and wishes I were her. If when we’re together, she is actually the one who’s on his mind.
From all accounts, they were perfect for each other. Ying to yang, you know, they balanced each other out. She was feisty, strong - she called him on his mistakes, told him when she wasn’t happy - and she made him a better person. She balanced him, complemented his weaknesses, and he complemented hers.
She was his ideal. His idol. He worshipped her - this petite, heavenly creature. She was his one, if you believe in that, she was the person he would have spent a lifetime loving, if only he’d gotten the chance.
I can never live up to her. I can never be her.
I will always be second best.
How can you live up to a ghost?
Author: fc2001
Rating: FRT
Disclaimer: Without Prejudice. The names of all characters contained here in are the property of everyone involved in the making of ER. No Infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission. Plus, I own nothing worth having except an 18 year old Micra and my toaster - neither of which I can really live without.
Spoilers:None!
Content Warning: Erm. It’s a bit depressing. But no swearing or sex or anything. And it’s very very odd, I do apologise. I just wondered, what about those who come after…? Ray and Neela are meant to be, but what if the fates have other ideas…Sorry. Damn. It was written in about half an hour, and hasn't been betaed - so any mistakes are mine and I apologise sincerely.
Second Best
It’s hard, you know, being the woman after the lover before. I don’t think I fully appreciated exactly how hard it would be. I think its because I was in way too deep before I found out about her. He has a way of getting people like that - he’s smart, and sexy and just ever so slightly damaged. He’s hurt by a past he can’t forget, and will never forgive.
It’s tough when you know that he loved so intensely before. That the flames of their love burned so brightly, but so briefly, that they’ve burned a permanent scorch mark into his heart. And it hurts like hell when you realise that he will never love anyone like that again. Not even you. No matter how you try. No matter how fabulous you are, how much you smile or laugh at his jokes. No one will ever be the same. Your laugh isn’t her laugh; your smile isn’t her smile.
I’ve never told him any of this. How can I? He would just say - he doesn’t want me to be her, he wants me to be me. But he’s never with me 100%, there’s always going to be a part of him that wants to be with her. And I don’t know how much longer I can cope with that. I’m living with a dead woman, and it’s tearing me up inside.
Neela. Dr Neela. Damn. I hate the woman, and I never met her. She was perfect. His memory of her is perfect and she’s up there on this completely unbreakable pedestal. And it kills me to be jealous of her, because what happened to her shouldn’t have happened to anyone. No one will ever be the angel that she was. No one will ever captivate him quite the way she did. I wonder if she sees all this from her place in the great beyond - if she sees the shell he is without her around - the falseness in the way he’s trying to get things back to normal, the way he’s trying to carry on a normal relationship.
He tries not to talk about her around me. I can see it in the strained expression sometimes, when I know he’s thinking about her, but he looks at me and doesn’t say anything. I know he wants to mention her. She was a huge, immoveable part of his life. I can’t change that. I wouldn’t want to try.
I just don’t want to be compared to her. I don’t want to have to wonder how I measure up to his yardstick of perfection. I don’t move the same, I don’t talk the same - everything about me is different - from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes. But I can’t help wondering if he looks at me and wishes I were her. If when we’re together, she is actually the one who’s on his mind.
From all accounts, they were perfect for each other. Ying to yang, you know, they balanced each other out. She was feisty, strong - she called him on his mistakes, told him when she wasn’t happy - and she made him a better person. She balanced him, complemented his weaknesses, and he complemented hers.
She was his ideal. His idol. He worshipped her - this petite, heavenly creature. She was his one, if you believe in that, she was the person he would have spent a lifetime loving, if only he’d gotten the chance.
I can never live up to her. I can never be her.
I will always be second best.
How can you live up to a ghost?