A/N: Okay another update! Yay, new stories! This is a oneshot. This is it. I'm always open to continuing stories that were originally one-shots if I get the inspiration (as it went with/is going with Sharing Is Caring if you're following that). But as of now, I'm not planning that. And if you can't catch it, the He's/His/him are Derek, the She's/Hers/Her are his current Casey-like girlfriend, and the italicized She's/Hers/Her are Casey. There's no emphasis on those she's, it's just a way to indicate which is which without using names. Oh and they would have to be in their twenties and Derek and the girlfriend are living together. :). Enjoy. R&R! Thanks! -Mac
Disclaimer: I wish I could own Life with Derek, I'm hoping as birthday present I just might...I know a long shot. :)
Just Like You, But Not
Derek stares across the table at the girl sitting there. His girlfriend. He didn't want to feel that she didn't quite add up right, but he did. There was nothing wrong with her. But in comparison to... She could be perfection, but he just doesn't see it that way. She's not her, therefore she isn't perfect. And she never can be.
This girl is just like her. Probably more than he can even tell. The hair, the eyes, the face--so similar. But still not perfect. The clothes, the style--scary exact. But still not quite right. He could only figure it would always feel that way. Like it wasn't right, like something was off.
She looks up at him and smiles. She thinks the staring is some sort of sign of affection. She always had. She would never know that he wasn't admiring her. He was concentrating on all the things she wasn't. She would never know he was imagining someone else, sitting where she was instead of her. She wouldn't understand anyway.
He could see so much of her in this girl. That's what had drew him to her in the first place--she reminded him of her. Getting involved with this girl was his sick way of trying to have something he wasn't allowed to have. She had all the right qualities--so much like her. Somehow, though, the execution wasn't right. It didn't fit together the same way. And this girl lost all chances at the aforementioned perfection.
It wasn't her fault. He was just conditioned to something different than her--similar but still vastly different. He just couldn't quite get over her. And that wasn't this girl's fault. That was more something listed under 'Things That Are Derek Venturi's Fault.' A list she had started so long ago. He tried to make this girl the only one he saw, but she wasn't her. And he would always see her.
He could try his hardest, but she would never be her.
This girl was smart, but she didn't have the same blatant intelligence that she had. This girl would never be able to outshine her when it came to natural knowledge. She knew what to know and how to use it. She had all the answers, and if she didn't she knew where to find it. This girl would always fall short in comparison.
Part of Derek's attraction to her, was her ability to argue his every point. The passion she put into every argument made him tingle all over. She had an answer for everything he said. She kept him on his toes. This girl could hold her own in a fight with him, but she couldn't do it with the same wit and flare that she had. He would never see the same passion that demanded his attention in this girl's eyes and he wished he could.
She was all about natural beauty and never conforming to society's view of beauty. She had that wonderful air of quiet femininity. It was a just-there beauty that surrounded every part of her. With this girl it all seemed forced. But maybe that was just him seeing something that wasn't there. Maybe that was just seeing a flaw that wasn't there.
He knew that all the little perfections, little flaws, might just be figments of his imagination. He might be just thinking up things wrong with her. Because there was one major flaw that was very obvious to him, she wasn't her. And that was something she would never be able to compensate for.
But this is the girl he will take home tonight, just like every night. This is the girl he will sleep next to tonight, just like every night. This is the girl he will wake up next to tomorrow morning, just like every morning. This is the girl, even though he wishes it was her.
And every time he holds her close, he'll try and not think about how she doesn't fit his body quite the same as she had--perfectly. And everytime he kisses her he won't think about how her lips are softer. And everytime he says he loves her he'll try not to imagine it was her he was whispering it to. And maybe he'll mean it a little, but never the same way he meant it for her.
Because he settled for this girl. Because she was as close as he was ever going to get. He'll have to learn to forget her and try and imagine a future with this girl. Because the ring hidden in his beside table drawer---thought once for her--is for this girl now. And he'll have to try not to say her name, sigh her name, breathe her name. Because this girl is his, and she's not. He settled. She's just like her, but not.
