Disclaimer – I do not own Roswell. I do not own any of its characters. If for some strange reason I do own Roswell or its characters in the future...You owe me.
Rating – PG
Summary – Liz thinks about her life with, and without Max. (After The End of the World.)
Washed Away
At night I cry. I cry for the names of the children I will never have. I cry for the perfect man I don't know anymore. The man who stands so close, but will not look towards me. I cry for the love I've lost.
I want to know that other life. I want to have those memories for myself. I want to know what it's like to be with him for eternity. I gave him up, I betrayed him. I caused him pain. I led him to the arms of another, and I can NOT stand it. I am sick of all this. I've died, but continue to breathe. I am not whole; his part of me is gone. I go through the days empty, pretending to care. I do not care. I see them together, and everything else is a blur. I do not remember any of it.
They say it is better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all. I don't believe that, it isn't true. When love is shattered, time stops, and all that is seen and felt...is pain. Unbearable pain. If I had the choice, I would go back to that day at the Crashdown. I would tell him to let me go, let me die so I wouldn't have to feel this pain...so I wouldn't know what it's like to have him love me, and then have it taken away. There is no light at the end of the tunnel, for he was my light. No wake in the storm, for he was my peace. There is only endless and infinite pain, for he was my happiness, my life.
I let no one see me. I wear a smile that is not mine. I hide in this shell, waiting to be let free. No one knows but He and I. He sees my torment and blames himself. I hate seeing his pain. It is more unbearable than my own. His eyes tell a story of anguish, of sorrow. Of pain and suffering, and it is all my fault. I want to tell him I'm fine, but when I look in his eyes I see the story unfold. I see myself, I see what he saw that day, and I freeze. The image pulls me in and I am immersed in it. I start to shake, and I cannot keep still in fear I will fall sobbing to the ground. I want to tell him so badly, but he cannot know the truth, my truth. I sit and hope for the end, the end of my suffering. I hope for a way out, a way to a world where he and I are alone forever, a world of eternal happiness. A world that does not exist.
At night I cry because I've lost him.