So, I had an idea, and I wrote a thing...
Three seconds..
That's all it would take - just three seconds, and enough courage to make that leap and face this thing head on. And then just hope to hell that the brakes work - because it would just be too cruel to have finally made that jump and then get hit by the truck.
You're scared by how you feel, you know you are...but the alternative is something that scares you even more.
When you were a kid your Ma would come and comfort you when you had a bad dream - she'd hold you and maybe sing you a lullaby until your eyelids couldn't hold themselves up anymore and you had to give in to sleep. It was fear that kept you awake then - afraid that if you drifted back to sleep the bullies would come and find you again...
So you fought it, like you tried to fight them with their cruel teasing and name calling - 'Roly Poly' Rizzoli was no coward, and you'd stand up to them and pretend like it didn't hurt...but sometimes it hurt so much that when your Ma cradled you like that you wished she'd never let go.
When Hoyt had you pinned to that basement floor, you knew you were going to die there, knew that this was it - you were all out of lives and if this was to be your final resting place you'd be damned if you'd show him how scared you were. He might have won the war but this final battle was yours - Jane Rizzoli would still never give in to a bully, and would never give in to fear. It was an acceptance that although physically beaten, mentally, to Hoyt at least, you were stronger than Superman.
Somehow, and to this day you really don't understand how, you survived. When Korsak burst in all guns blazing you barely registered it the pain was so strong, but when he released you from the floor and cradled you in his arms like a distraught father reunited with his lost child, you hoped he'd never let go.
Maura.
Her name makes your heart speed up and your mouth go dry. You've loved her for so long now you've forgotten a time that you didn't, and if you had to die for anyone, it would be for her. She gets you. You don't know how, but she gets you. She seems to know you better than you do yourself, and that's good - because sometimes you don't think you know who you are at all.
But you get her. You get her like no one else ever has, and you know her well enough to know that you'll learn some new thing about her every day. And how good would it feel to wake up with her every morning and be desperate to learn what that new thing might be? You think you'd give just about anything to find out - maybe even your soul...
Fear.
How you feel about her is the only thing you would ever admit to being afraid of. She isn't just a part of your world - she is your world. She isn't just a part of your life...she just... is. Maura. Is. Everything...infinity, Pi, The Red Sox nailing the Yankees at Fenway - you name it, she's either it, or better than it. And when she comforts you, and her arms embrace your entire being, you hope she'll never let you go.
You wake in a sweat and remember that when you'd finally said it, finally opened yourself up to her, she'd looked at you like she didn't know you. Like she didn't recognise the friend you'd been to her these past years. And she's sorry, but she can't love you the way you want her to. And she can't be your friend anymore. And suddenly, she's gone...
And there it is, your biggest fear of all, the one that makes you scared to fall asleep, and sometimes scared to wake up. Bigger than Hoyt and being pinned to a basement floor...bigger than the biggest big thing...a fear that you'll lose Maura for good.
It's only a dream, you tell yourself, over and over, running your hands through your damp hair, and rubbing your eyes so hard you see colors behind your eyelids. But it's a dream about a dream, and one that will never become anything...if you don't just tell her.
If this were a friend confiding in you, you'd tell them they can't keep going on like this, that it's never going to happen and to somehow find a way to move on. And you know you'd be right... if moving on were an option. It isn't. You've gotten so used to loving her, the idea of moving on is like an addict being told to go cold turkey...
No, you decide. Not anymore. You can't keep doing this to yourself. The pain of toothache is far worse than the treatment. Just pull it out and wait for the hole to heal over...
She's here. Just do it. Three seconds. Just say the damn words. Tell her how you feel...tell her you love her...tell her it's going to rain tomorrow but you'll catch every raindrop so her hair doesn't get wet...
Just. Tell. Her.
"Maura, I..."