I am in mourning: William Petersen is leaving; no more Gil Grissom, no more curly hair, no more blue eyes, no more...hmmmm, fantasies, lol. Ten more episodes and the fox is gone; please, just shoot me now.
Anyway, this piece reflects some of my depression over this recent revelation. Perhaps though, in some way it will bring some happiness to those GSR fans out there.
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THE DESOLATE CITY
by: Wilfrid Scawen Blunt (1840-1922)
DARK to me is the earth. Dark to me are the heavens.
Where is she that I loved, the woman with eyes like stars?
Desolate are the streets. Desolate is the city.
A city taken by storm, where none are left but the slain.
Sadly I rose at dawn, undid the latch of my shutters,
Thinking to let in light, but I only let in love.
Birds in the boughs were awake; I listen'd to their chaunting;
Each one sang to his love; only I was alone.
This, I said in my heart, is the hour of life and of pleasure.
Now each creature on earth has his joy, and lives in the sun,
Each in another's eyes finds light, the light of compassion,
This is the moment of pity, this is the moment of love.
Speak, O desolate city! Speak, O silence in sadness!
Where is she that I loved in my strength, that spoke to my soul?
Where are those passionate eyes that appeal'd to my eyes in passion?
Where is the mouth that kiss'd me, the breast I laid to my own?
Speak, thou soul of my soul, for rage in my heart is kindled.
Tell me, where didst thou flee in the day of destruction and fear?
See, my arms still enfold thee, enfolding thus all heaven,
See, my desire is fulfill'd in thee, for it fills the earth.
Thus in my grief I lamented. Then turn'd I from the window,
Turn'd to the stair, and the open door, and the empty street,
Crying aloud in my grief, for there was none to chide me,
None to mock my weakness, none to behold my tears.
Groping I went, as blind. I sought her house, my belovèd's.
There I stopp'd at the silent door, and listen'd and tried the latch.
Love, I cried, dost thou slumber? This is no hour for slumber,
This is the hour of love, and love I bring in my hand.
I knew the house, with its windows barr'd, and its leafless fig-tree,
Climbing round by the doorstep the only one in the street;
I knew where my hope had climb'd to its goal and there encircled
All that those desolate walls once held, my belovèd's heart.
There in my grief she consoled me. She loved me when I loved not.
She put her hand in my hand, and set her lips to my lips.
She told me all her pain and show'd me all her trouble.
I, like a fool, scarce heard, hardly return'd her kiss.
Love, thy eyes were like torches. They changed as I beheld them.
Love, thy lips were like gems, the seal thou settest on my life.
Love, if I loved not then, behold this hour thy vengeance;
This is the fruit of thy love and thee, the unwise grown wise.
Weeping strangled my voice. I call'd out, but none answer'd;
Blindly the windows gazed back at me, dumbly the door;
She whom I love, who loved me, look'd not on my yearning,
Gave me no more her hands to kiss, show'd me no more her soul.
Therefore the earth is dark to me, the sunlight blackness,
Therefore I go in tears and alone, by night and day;
Therefore I find no love in heaven, no light, no beauty,
A heaven taken by storm where none are left but the slain!
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Gil Grissom sat alone in his apartment; well, not totally alone, there was Hank. But a dog is little consolation for a broken heart…a shattered soul.
He had called her; his Sara, after Warrick was shot. He had told her the sad news and she had come. They talked. Between the comings and goings to spend time with friends, to honor a friend's life, to mourn, they had talked.
He told her of his feelings, his confusion. Everything that had always been so clear to him just wasn't anymore. His life seemed a shambles…a charade. Had he really spent a lifetime fooling himself into believing that what he did mattered? He asked her. She had no answer. Of course she had no answer; her demons were of a different nature.
He looked into her brown eyes and saw. He saw all that he had missed, carelessly thrown away. No, not carelessly; he had taken great care in pushing her away. What would his life be now if he had pulled her in instead? He had robbed himself…them. What could have been a lifetime was downscaled to two years. He'd had two years that mattered, really mattered.
He saw her hurt; not just the hurt he had caused, but the hurt of her lifetime. He could have helped that hurt….if only.
Now she was broken and he was crushed. A plane had taken her away that morning…away from him. And so, again he no longer mattered.
He sighed and looked at the dog, who looked back at him sadly. And then he knew. Moving to his desk, he pulled out paper. Pen in hand, he bagen to write.
Conrad,
Please accept this as my resignation, effective immediately. I am leaving to do something that matters.
Gil Grissom
He folded it, slid it into an envelope, and sealed it. Then he wrote another note.
Dear Catherine,
My dearest friend, I am leaving. I will miss you and the team but I need a change. I once told Warrick that when I leave, there would be no formal announcement, no party and cake in the break room; I would just be gone. And so I am.
Please have Nick and Greg pack my office and put my things in storage. I'll contact you later to make further arrangements. My apartment lease will be paid for several months until I can decide what my next step will be, but don't look for me there because I am going away for awhile.
I realize I am asking a lot from you with little explanation. I'm sorry, but I simply have none to give. I just need to get away.
I've not had many true friends in my life and am honored to count you among the few. And yet, as I think back over the years we have known one another, I realize we are so much more. I will truly miss you.
Gil
He packed a bag, packed some things for Hank, and hooked the dog to his leash. "Come on, boy. Let's go for a ride."
Once man and dog were settled in the car, Grissom pulled out onto the street and headed west. "Let's go see Sara, boy. Maybe I can finally matter." And so they drove, leaving behind the desolate city.
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