I've been staying late, I've been staying all night.
I tell my self, and the security guards, that it's because I have a lot of work- that I feel so behind.
And I am behind- 7 months behind.
But that's not the real reason. I realize that now, as I'm sipping my coffee, watching Angela look at Hodgins like he is the only thing in the world, I realize that as I see Hannah rushing into the office to see Booth, to take him to lunch.
I realize that I am lonely- not alone, like before- but lonely. I have been alone before, and I used to enjoy the quiet.
But now, now, here- six years after I met him, and five years of partnership?
I want nothing more then to be with, not without. Before it was comforting, only having bones to share company with- facts waiting to be found.
But now, now, here, six years later, I'm a different person; I have connected, found a family- not biologically- but strong, just the same.
I realize, as I look through my closed glass office door, that the circles are getting deeper, darker. I don't even bother to conceal any of my lack of sleep, anymore.
It's not like anyone has noticed anyway.
It's not like I can be mad at him, when he told me he was moving on- but I find my self agitated. He said true love was forever, and seven months later, he was in love, all over again? Wasn't that breaking some sort of code?
Shouldn't have taken him at least a year to engage in a sexual relationship, again?
Then I notice my frown in the reflection of my glass office door.
I miss how he used to pick me up for lunch, with a cocky, got you, smirk, as he slips on my coat, and leads me out the door.
How he used to hover around me while I worked, instead of running off any chance he gets to be with Hannah.
I miss how he would show up at my doorstep at least three times a week. I miss seeing Parker on the weekends.
I miss him, his scent, his smile, his eyes, his honesty- I miss every aspect of 7 months ago- even though we weren't at our best then
I miss finishing each other's thoughts, and bickering. I miss talking to him. I miss sitting with him in silence, frustrated, comfortable. Boothy silence.
Missing means losing, I realize, as he leaves the Jeffersonian without me, his grin lighting up Hannah's face. His hand is hovering over her lower back, possessively.
This isn't anyone's fault. I have allowed my self to grow apart from them. They still invite me to the traditional Friday Night, after a case, dinner and drinks.
Yes, it's my fault that the family is falling apart. Cam had pointed that out.
If I hadn't left, no one else would have. The family was drifting apart.
It was selfish.
Well, I wouldn't be selfish now.
If they decided, one day to notice my dangerously dark bags, then that would be their business.
They were happy. Who was I to spoil that?
Booth in particular. I should be happy for him. He would want that from me- he must expect that, at least, after he gambled his heart. After I crushed it.
I'm good at compartmentalizing, if that's all.
I'm good at pulling in, deep inside, I hide, and I'm good at reading bones.
Not the soul, or the life, I read what once was.
I see what happened too late. I observe too late.
I realized that my life doesn't mean anything to me without them, my family, too late.
Genesis? I'm slow for a genesis, too slow.
I close my eyes, and Angela leaves the Jeffersonian.
Suck it up. I exhale. Who cares if it hurts?
Who cares if I miss my family?
I survived abandonment countless times.
I would do it again.
