Valentine's Day

oOo

"He was the last. His father and mother... his sister... all gone. I think the real tragedy... is that for all of his pain and searching... the truth that he worked so hard to find was never truly revealed to him. I can't truly believe that I'm really standing here."

- Dana Scully (DeadAlive)

Now you're gone and I was wrong. I never knew what it was like to be alone...

On a Valentine's Day...

- Valentine s Day (Linkin Park)
oOo

She awakes as she does every morning; insistent buzzing in her ears, harsh sunlight made glaring by a fresh layer of snow blinding her sight, the haze of sleep clouding her mind and memories. But it s this precious instant upon waking that retains her grasp on sanity. It s only a fleeting moment, her favourite time of day. Her rational mind tells her that she's just remembering dreams, but for this she silences that voice. Because it is now that her unconscious yearnings glide easily to eclipse the impossible existence she has been forced to live. She sees -him-, and suddenly the universe is set right. There never had been a feverish midnight search ending in the death of her very soul. Her memories of cascading dirt shrouding a casket are nothing but the remnants of some horrible nightmare. There is no condemning date carved after a dash on an inconspicuous headstone in Raleigh, North Carolina. There are only his arms, and his lips, and her loving him so much it hurts. Though the scientist in her knows it s only because of her propensity to wake during REM sleep, she allows herself to fancy that it's -him- reaching through time and space to her and not her dreams imposing themselves on actuality. It's so real, she expects to roll over and see him there next to her.

Then she -does- turn over and cruel reality crashes around her. The moment is lost; it flows through her grasping fingers like ethereal strands of fate, reminding her that all -is- lost. Her only companion now is the unending loneliness. The solitude is a vice and an addiction she neither wants nor can her sanity afford. She feels it like an empty hollowness that expands with every beat of her heart and every tick of the clock. It is in -this- moment following transient bliss that she always realizes she has never been more alone than she is now.

Glancing at the still chirping alarm clock, she notices the date for the first time. February 14th. Valentine's Day.