Sometimes I doubt my choice to give up on being a cop and becoming a psychiatrist, but when I talk to Elliot, I know I made the right choice.

I couldn't cope with all the things he sees. It sounds strange for me to say that, because many people would probably say that psychiatrists and other counselors hear the worst things in the world. We do, or at least we are always in the position to. But maybe seeing really is believing. That's not to say that I don't believe what patients tell me about their problems, because I do. But they don't stay with me so strongly. Their voices in my head are easier to ignore than pictures.

But when I talk to Elliot, I might as well see the actual victims. His face, as much as he tries to hide it, is a canvas for his turmoil. I can think of no one else whose face is the first image in my mind whenever I hear the words 'pain' or 'sadness'. Sometimes, when I talk to other patients, I do what I never should, and find myself comparing their suffering to Elliot's, thinking the whole time, "You have no idea what it is to hurt." That's how strongly his grief resonates with me.

I'm not sure why he grew to trust me so much. Certainly Olivia had nothing to do with that. I know she resents me, and I can't say that I blame her. She's in love with Elliot, so of course she hated that all of a sudden he was turning to me, her old friend. What she might have been if she had also quit the police academy. I'm sure she felt like he was replacing her, and Kathy, with me.

Part of me was, and is, I suppose…very much in love with Elliot. I admire him, and I know him to be a good man. But that's not enough, and I'm well aware of that. Nothing could ever work between us, because we don't have an equal relationship. We can't. We worked together as equals on some cases, but the moment he started confiding in me, and I had no intention of reciprocating, we shattered all hope for a relationship. We couldn't have the mutual reliance. I'm unofficially his psychologist, and I can't be anything else.

The fact that Elliot might have loved me too, if only a little, terrifies me and shows me how troubled he really was. How can you love someone whom you know nothing about? I know his darkest secrets, things I'm not sure he ever told his wife, but he didn't know me at all. All I was to him, all I could possibly have been, was the woman who listened to him without judging him. And that's all I'll ever be.

That's fine. I'm glad he found me, if I helped him at all. I worried about Elliot to the point that I didn't sleep some nights. I've been in this profession long enough to recognize when someone is teetering on the edge of despair, and Elliot was so close sometimes that I'm amazed he's still alive. If I stopped him from killing himself, or doing something reckless, it was all worth it and I have no regrets. But I'm not what he needs.

What Elliot probably needs most is to get out of the Special Victims Unit, but he won't. He couldn't live with himself if he did, even though sometimes he can hardly live with himself because he hasn't. That's why Elliot's road is such a dangerous one. There is no room for error anymore. One misstep, and he'll be gone.

Elliot needs support, and needs to give it too. I don't think I've ever wanted two people to end up together because of psychological reasons…until now. I think Olivia would be perfect for him.

They both see the horrors, and they know better than anyone how their partner deals with the feelings. Olivia has helped him out of the abyss of despair more times than I think he's aware of, and I know he's been there for her when she doesn't think she can go on. And they make each other laugh. I can't even begin to explain how important that is for them. They see the worst side of New York, of humanity, and if they can distract each other from that, even if only for a moment, it's an amazing miracle.

And they are equals. They are in this together. I can support Elliot from afar, but Olivia can be at his side to catch him as he falls, knowing he'll do the same for her. Sometimes a broken person is the best support for another, better than a strong one who can't possibly understand fully. And understanding is what they both need, more than anything.

I won't get over Elliot any time soon, but I don't flatter myself that I can help him anymore, and help was all he needed from me. It was all he wanted from me, and all I could give. But I'll always regret that I couldn't do more.