[CSI] Bow Out
Bow Out
Sara/Grissom, PG, 557 words
It was all just a masquerade anyway.
Sometimes you wonder how it came to this. You pull, he pushes. You give, he takes. This is what you do. This is what you are. Round and round where it stops no one knows. When did every day become such a struggle? The simple things become so complex and you spend too much of your time wondering what he is doing, and how he is feeling. Gone is the easy flow of your relationship, if you would dare call it that.
You can’t begin to count all the times over the years that you’ve tried to push through his defenses, clawed away at them, only to be met with more layers. You kept waiting, hoping that he would see you, see beneath all that pain that lurks in you. What was one more day if it meant having one more moment? You gathered all the moments together and clung to them, hoping that they would change what you had become. What you had let yourself become. You thought that these moments would complete you if you could hold onto enough of them.
You think you can hold on just a little bit longer, stay the ebbing tide that is on its way to totally consuming you. But you’re tired and you know that this is all just a masquerade anyway. Today you have decided to decline to take anymore pain, to take anymore of this, this nothingness that you have existed in. It’s time for a change and you are sure, so sure, that this is the right time.
Or so you tell yourself.
Every time you decide to do this, to move on, he changes the game. Makes it more interesting and you get caught again. How many more years, how many different versions of this same story will you live through?
So you steel yourself in his doorway by taking a deep breath. You knock and ask for a minute. He hesitates, brow crinkled in thought. It’s personal; it always is when it comes to you. So he hesitates and you use that moment to push forward. His eyes cloud with confusion as you ramble on about masquerades and stage curtains. He stares at you, wondering what his next line will be.
And in that one moment, the moment that you have been waiting for, his eyes clear and he finally sees you. But deep down, you both know that he can’t be the man you need him to be. He’s not ready yet. So, blue eyes stare at you, waiting for you. You want to stay, to tell him that it was nothing, and to take it all back. Start over, again.
But if you don’t go, if you don’t leave right now, you’ll end up right back where this started and will have gained nothing. So it’s time and this is the right decision. There really isn’t anything more to say.
You turn and leave a trail of vanilla and gardenias in your wake. He knows that this scent is something he will never shake and it will haunt him for years. And all he is capable of doing is watching you leave.
As you are walking through the hallway, arms held close to your body, you realize that for the first time that you are ready.
And it feels so good.
original post & remix
Sara/Grissom, PG, 557 words
It was all just a masquerade anyway.
Sometimes you wonder how it came to this. You pull, he pushes. You give, he takes. This is what you do. This is what you are. Round and round where it stops no one knows. When did every day become such a struggle? The simple things become so complex and you spend too much of your time wondering what he is doing, and how he is feeling. Gone is the easy flow of your relationship, if you would dare call it that.
You can’t begin to count all the times over the years that you’ve tried to push through his defenses, clawed away at them, only to be met with more layers. You kept waiting, hoping that he would see you, see beneath all that pain that lurks in you. What was one more day if it meant having one more moment? You gathered all the moments together and clung to them, hoping that they would change what you had become. What you had let yourself become. You thought that these moments would complete you if you could hold onto enough of them.
You think you can hold on just a little bit longer, stay the ebbing tide that is on its way to totally consuming you. But you’re tired and you know that this is all just a masquerade anyway. Today you have decided to decline to take anymore pain, to take anymore of this, this nothingness that you have existed in. It’s time for a change and you are sure, so sure, that this is the right time.
Or so you tell yourself.
Every time you decide to do this, to move on, he changes the game. Makes it more interesting and you get caught again. How many more years, how many different versions of this same story will you live through?
So you steel yourself in his doorway by taking a deep breath. You knock and ask for a minute. He hesitates, brow crinkled in thought. It’s personal; it always is when it comes to you. So he hesitates and you use that moment to push forward. His eyes cloud with confusion as you ramble on about masquerades and stage curtains. He stares at you, wondering what his next line will be.
And in that one moment, the moment that you have been waiting for, his eyes clear and he finally sees you. But deep down, you both know that he can’t be the man you need him to be. He’s not ready yet. So, blue eyes stare at you, waiting for you. You want to stay, to tell him that it was nothing, and to take it all back. Start over, again.
But if you don’t go, if you don’t leave right now, you’ll end up right back where this started and will have gained nothing. So it’s time and this is the right decision. There really isn’t anything more to say.
You turn and leave a trail of vanilla and gardenias in your wake. He knows that this scent is something he will never shake and it will haunt him for years. And all he is capable of doing is watching you leave.
As you are walking through the hallway, arms held close to your body, you realize that for the first time that you are ready.
And it feels so good.
original post & remix