She took a long drag on her cigarette as she dropped down on the bed, not
even cringing when her head banged the headboard.
She was beyond pain, beyond feeling.
So tiring it was to go from day to day, with nothing to live for. She was sure that nothing good would ever come from her pain, that no matter however small, kind things happened, that in the end, nothing would change his mind and she'd be left to exist only as hermetic, workaholic, Sara Sidle.
She sucked in a breath of air when she felt something hot land on her bare leg and quickly pushed the cigarette into the ash try sitting on the bedside table.
When the last of the smoke dissipated she brought her hand down on her leg and rubbed the ash from her leg, onto the plain white sheets of her bed.
If anything, sleep was the last thing she wanted to do. She was so tired of the day to day. So tired of holding onto this last little thread of hope that he'd open his eyes and finally see her for the first time in a long while.
She almost let herself believe that he would call her or come to find her days ago. But he didn't come. He didn't call. He didn't care. He ignored her as always, as usual.
She quickly stood; swaying a little from the few bottles of beer she had downed the hour before. She walked over to her dresser, deciding that she really wouldn't be able to sleep and might as well go out into the living room and find something productive to do.
She opened the drawer and pulled out a pair of red, plaid boxer shorts and slipped them on over her underwear and pulled her large white t-shirt out of the elastic band of the shorts. Smoothing it out she slowly looked up into the mirror and shivered at the site of herself.
What was she turning into? Her face was tired and her lips were pale. She trembled as she brought her hand up to her lips and breathed into her hand, smelling the rank alcohol on her breath. She couldn't remember the last time she'd smiled, couldn't remember the last time she had a reason to. She pushed her hair back from her face and looked at herself hard.
"What have I turned myself into?" She asked quietly, looking into the mirror, staring at her reflection.
She let her hair down and brought her hands down to her sides.
As tears flooded her eyes she blinked a couple times, trying to make them stop.
"It's amazing I still have tears to cry. I'd think that in all these months I wouldn't be able to cry anymore."
She remembered asking herself this same question as she drove home silently the night she had listened to Grissom confess something that she only wished he'd act on.
He loved her, but wouldn't do anything about it. She knew in her mind that it was her and only her he was speaking about. She could see how haunted he was from the case. She knew how frightened she had been when she had looked down at the face of her doppelganger. She hadn't known what to think, or what to do.
As the tears streamed down her face she brought her hand up and wiped them away.
"I don't want to cry anymore. I'm so tired of my life."
She brought her hands down on the dresser and looked down at the floor a moment later as she leaned on the dresser and looked up at herself in the mirror she made herself smile lightly and said, "This is it. No more feeling sorry for myself. I'm going to make myself go back to normal. Make myself forget him, make myself forget everything I ever felt or him. I don't need him and he's never needed me. It's time to really have your own life. Time to let him go. Time to make your life exactly what you want it to be."
She was beyond pain, beyond feeling.
So tiring it was to go from day to day, with nothing to live for. She was sure that nothing good would ever come from her pain, that no matter however small, kind things happened, that in the end, nothing would change his mind and she'd be left to exist only as hermetic, workaholic, Sara Sidle.
She sucked in a breath of air when she felt something hot land on her bare leg and quickly pushed the cigarette into the ash try sitting on the bedside table.
When the last of the smoke dissipated she brought her hand down on her leg and rubbed the ash from her leg, onto the plain white sheets of her bed.
If anything, sleep was the last thing she wanted to do. She was so tired of the day to day. So tired of holding onto this last little thread of hope that he'd open his eyes and finally see her for the first time in a long while.
She almost let herself believe that he would call her or come to find her days ago. But he didn't come. He didn't call. He didn't care. He ignored her as always, as usual.
She quickly stood; swaying a little from the few bottles of beer she had downed the hour before. She walked over to her dresser, deciding that she really wouldn't be able to sleep and might as well go out into the living room and find something productive to do.
She opened the drawer and pulled out a pair of red, plaid boxer shorts and slipped them on over her underwear and pulled her large white t-shirt out of the elastic band of the shorts. Smoothing it out she slowly looked up into the mirror and shivered at the site of herself.
What was she turning into? Her face was tired and her lips were pale. She trembled as she brought her hand up to her lips and breathed into her hand, smelling the rank alcohol on her breath. She couldn't remember the last time she'd smiled, couldn't remember the last time she had a reason to. She pushed her hair back from her face and looked at herself hard.
"What have I turned myself into?" She asked quietly, looking into the mirror, staring at her reflection.
She let her hair down and brought her hands down to her sides.
As tears flooded her eyes she blinked a couple times, trying to make them stop.
"It's amazing I still have tears to cry. I'd think that in all these months I wouldn't be able to cry anymore."
She remembered asking herself this same question as she drove home silently the night she had listened to Grissom confess something that she only wished he'd act on.
He loved her, but wouldn't do anything about it. She knew in her mind that it was her and only her he was speaking about. She could see how haunted he was from the case. She knew how frightened she had been when she had looked down at the face of her doppelganger. She hadn't known what to think, or what to do.
As the tears streamed down her face she brought her hand up and wiped them away.
"I don't want to cry anymore. I'm so tired of my life."
She brought her hands down on the dresser and looked down at the floor a moment later as she leaned on the dresser and looked up at herself in the mirror she made herself smile lightly and said, "This is it. No more feeling sorry for myself. I'm going to make myself go back to normal. Make myself forget him, make myself forget everything I ever felt or him. I don't need him and he's never needed me. It's time to really have your own life. Time to let him go. Time to make your life exactly what you want it to be."