Chapter 9
Sweet like candy. That is what he tasted like. It sickens me.
Cold like ice. That is what his eyes were like. It chills me.
It took one call that led to one lunch/dinner, that became movie dates, that became a friendship, that spawned a kiss because I needed to feel wanted. Add a test of honesty, a Grissom shove, and then a lie is born.
It's funny how a friendship can die in one second, but takes so long to build. Trust is the first structure to build for any friendship. I lied to Grissom and now look, he thinks I lie about everything. It wasn't even a full lie until he pushed me away. Hank and I were only friends but Grissom made me consider something more. Then I trusted myself to make a honest decision, and I lied to myself. I never wanted Hank. I lied to make myself believe I could be happy with him. What would Freud say? Isn't lying to yourself a crime against your entire being?
And then there is Hank. I trusted him to understand me. I went out on a limb to forge a bond with another human being. I didn't play it safe or analyze, I just accepted his gesture of a kind relationship. His words hurt me more than I thought possible. We weren't actually together especially after last night but I can't deny how horrible he made me feel. It hurts to be rejected and walked all over even by a stranger. I always play it safe, and never take a chance or let anyone get too close, and this is why. Feeling like this is hell, and Hank didn't even mean that much to me. What if it were someone I actually loved? I don't know if I could take it.
I believe someday I could open up. When I find the right person, I think it should be easy to share how I feel, but telling just anyone is not me. Hank said that was the problem, that he didn't know a thing about me. He never took the time to ask either. Asshole.
I grip the steering wheel with force as the thoughts come. I am still too close to them. Despite the many miles between us, it isn't far enough away. Every light I approach turns red. I can't get away fast enough. Everything seems to prevent my escape. What escape? The entire office heard us. Tomorrow will be a living nightmare of stares and blatant whispers. I, Sara Sidle, who tried so hard to keep my personal life private, have become the source of gossip for at least a few weeks. It might be months before they can look at me without wondering. I hate that. What is worse is that not one single person knows the whole story. No one knows about the forced kiss, except maybe Grissom who would never mention such a perverted act. So they can and will fill in as many blanks unoccupied by words and facts. No one will ask, and I will not provoke conversation. It is no one's business.
I sit tapping until the light turns green only to be stopped two blocks away because of heavy traffic coming off the main strip. Suddenly I feel the need to let the tears flow. It is not a sob from complete emotional agony, it is just a few tears that stubbornly fall without my approval. Why is this effecting me like this? I never loved Hank.
"What bothers you most Sara? The fact that I kissed you or the fact that your boss saw us?"
The light turns green and I brush away the tears and the thought. I don't want to think that I am crying over Grissom. Maybe I am but I won't admit it. I will never admit it. Starry halos float around the tail lights and street lights. The car in front of me seems to be crawling inch by inch. Go, I plead, but he doesn't move any faster. I hurriedly put my turn signal on to pass.
Another slow car.
Turn signal.
Lane switch.
Another slow car.
Turn signal.
Lane switch.
Damn. Red light. I hate stopping. Stopping leaves time for reflection. I don't need to think about what just happened or about my life. Reflection is good for cable shows, not for real life. Slow tears stream my face again. This time I don't brush them away when the light changes. I simply let them hit my lap.
Finally I am only a block from my salvation. Lane change. I forgot my turn signal. It's not courtesy, it is good driving and I forgot. Truth isn't a courtesy it is good character. I forgot that too. Grissom, Hank, myself deserved the courtesy of truth. I messed up. I always mess up when it comes to "relationships". I am not good at them. I used to believe that there are degrees of love that assign importance to the people we care about. They all act independent of each other. The proceeding one never ensures the next.
The first level is falling in love. It is admiration. Something intrigues you about that person. You are pulled to that person in awe. Most of the time it fades. You learn and it leaves you. Those that make a special way into your life lead you to the next stage.
Experiencing love is shared when you become friends. You enjoy each others company without a doubt. It is the most playful stage of love. It is fun. Most relationships we form are this. These people mean something. You care if they are having a bad day or if they get sick. They are a very small group.
Then you have that one that is extra meaningful. He or she sits above the rest. That is when it hits you like a ton of bricks: you are in love. It encompasses you. Being in love is for people that want each other. Out of this usually leads to making love. It is the product of wanting. Sex is just the urge. Making love is the special need.
Finally soul mate love. It is the most powerful and independent of all other loves. It is the need. The ache when you are apart. The earth shattering realization that there is nothing you wouldn't do for that person. You are symmetric. Complete in every aspect. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. You are then truly soul mates.
I never pressed love. I believe it should evolve naturally. The only problem is the fact that evolution takes years or even lifetimes.
I sigh as I crawl out of the car and walk up the stairs to my apartment. It seemed to take me so long to get here, when actually I am two minutes early. I close the door and securely lock it behind me. I remove my clothing as I walk to my bedroom. It is like peeling my thoughts away as well. The tears have stopped but they will start again I am almost sure. My time to cry comes at odd moments. It's like all the stress I hold in comes out on something so stupid or little compared to the bigger things that are actually bothering me. I make my way to the bathroom. I look like hell. In slow motion I turn on the shower. I remove two painkillers, easily swallow them, and step in the shower. I shiver and take deep breaths when the cool water hits me.
I'm not the same person as I was three years ago. People change. Grissom has changed. No, I won't think about Grissom again. Not now. The last thing I need is to remember those cold blue eyes. His eyes were like stones when he looked at me. I don't blame him for being upset. The evidence was compromised. My epithelial cells are all over the vic's clothing. Maybe a hair or two. I am sure some of Hank is on there too. Anything we find credible wouldn't hold up in court because my character would again be put in the spotlight.
No. Forget the evidence. I didn't ask for Hank to force himself on me. I didn't even know he was capable of such arrogant bravery. I said no! He violated me. He pursued me. He humiliated me. Hank is no longer ranked higher than prokaryotic bacteria. He is the lowest form of life. I hate him and right now I am not too fond of Grissom either.
The evidence was all he could think about! I stood there in front of him with a feeling of regret that I put him in a situation like that. Me. I felt like I was in the wrong because Grissom saw us. I didn't care that Hank just assaulted me, I cared that Grissom saw us. I didn't want him to think I was with Hank. Why? Because I would rather have Grissom. I can say it with such ease that it is ironically funny. But damn Grissom. For once I needed him to comfort me not make me feel worse! And I was crying over him?!
"I swear if you hurt her, in anyway, you won't know what hit you."
Those words offered so much comfort, until he looked at me. That hardened stare. I was confused but his actions spoke louder than words. It was too much. I knew those words were some macho possession game with me as the pawn. I am Grissom's CSI. I am Hank's girlfriend. No I am neither. I don't belong to any one. I proved that to Grissom when I threatened to leave, and I proved that to Hank today. I put up with the scum of the earth that treat women like items when working a case, which is ninety five percent of my waking hours, so I do not need it when I'm on my leisure time.
And that is another thing. People tell me to get a life, I work too much, and I should socialize more when Gil Grissom the friggin' man of mystery applies the same outlook to life, work, and people as I do, if not more!
I wince in pain. The water is hot now; almost burning my skin. All the veins in my hands, arms, and feet have come to the surface as they attempt to cool my body. I'm letting this get to me way too much. I should be used to Grissom's dismissive behavior and Hank's desire for something more. I should be okay. I know I will be. The steam clouds my eyes as I reach to turn the hot water down. I stand under the water letting it wash away the tension. I close my eyes. The sore one pains me and I pray for the pain medicine to kick in soon. The dull ache will never let me sleep.
I realize as if it just dawns on me, that once again my rational mind has stopped the tears from coming. I think and think until crying has no appeal because my mind soothes me. I value it as a gift. It has saved me before and will do so again.
tbc...