A/N: Life has left me with no time to write, so I really apologize for the delay in posting this. Thank you to everyone for reading and/or commenting on the previous chapter. As always, I sincerely appreciate any and all of your feedback!

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Disclaimer: I do not own any part of CSI or its characters. That honor goes to the good folks over at CBS.

Spoilers: Up through 7x13, Redrum.

Title: Two Weeks.

Summary: Sara and Grissom are miles apart. What toll is the distance taking on them? Grissom's innermost thoughts.

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I'll miss you. Why couldn't I have just said more to you? Why couldn't I have just hugged you goodbye, or flashed you a small smile, or just said or done something to take away your unhappiness? I know that I am a private man, and that our relationship is still a private matter, but I should have done something more to ease your heavy heart. I'll miss you, as I explicitly told you, but in hindsight, I don't think that that is what you really needed or wanted to hear from me. I should have told you the truth.

I should have told you that I'll miss you… and that I love you.

But two weeks gone, and I still haven't called you once in order to explain myself. No "Hello, Sara, how are you?" No "Hello, Sara, how are my arachnids?" No "Hello, Sara, how's the weather?" Then again, you haven't called me, either. Are you upset with me for not being able to talk with you about my concerns? Are you upset with me for leaving so suddenly? How badly did I screw up this time? Will we ever be able to salvage our relationship? I miss you so much, Sara, and I desperately want to know how you're doing.

So if I want to talk to you that badly, then why can't I just pick up the phone to call you? You are constantly on my mind, and when it comes right down to it, I miss talking to you. I understand that I do not always share myself with you as much as you would probably like me to, but I've tried to work on that issue. I may not come right out and tell you how difficult of a shift I just had, or how frustrated I am with work, but I know that you are always there for me, and I hope that you know that I am always there for you.

Except… how can you possibly know that I am always there for you, when I left without really talking to you in the first place about my rationale for leaving? It's been two weeks, and I still haven't called you to explain myself, or text messaged you, or e-mailed you, or even sent you a letter. I wish I knew what my problem was, but I don't. There's just something about you that makes me nervous and self-conscious.

I'm in love, that's what it is.

I'm in love, and I've never really been in love before. I don't know how to behave in a relationship, because relationships are unscientific in nature. I am a man of science and logic, and love is completely illogical. I know that I love you, and I know that I love being around you, so why can't I just tell you what is on my mind? Why can't I just tell you the truth?

Perhaps someday I will find the right words to describe my emotions to you. In fact, I wrote you a love letter, you know. I never mailed it, but I actually wrote you a love letter. I would have mailed it to you, too, but I didn't want the first time that I tell you that I love you to come from another man's heart. I'll give you the letter—and the sonnet—but only after I have figured out a way to tell you—in my own words—how much I love you.

And perhaps that day will come when the cocoon hatches. I hope that you are taking good care of the moth, because this moth is a symbol of our relationship, as you will soon see.

I love you, Sara, and I can't wait until I return home to you in two weeks. In two weeks, I will tell you the truth about my feelings toward you.

In two weeks, I will tell you that I missed you… and that I love you.

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Finis 