You ever wonder why it is that sometimes you can remember the exact time
and place that something happened. Other times you know it was this year or
that year but you're really not all that sure?
For instance, I remember the day I married Fred. I remember the exact day, time, and location that both my kids were born. I remember meeting Bosco for the first time. I remember my first day on the force.the first time I fired my weapon.the first person I shot.the first life I took.
Then there's other stuff that I remember.other stuff that's important. Like I remember September 11th and how it changed my life. Fred was a good husband again and he stopped asking me to quit my job. I remember the day he had a heart attack in an elevator and I remember him reading the Bible. I'm not sure how long it took me to grow tired of hearing about it. Don't get me wrong, I believe in God and all that, I just have my own beliefs and Fred's constant quoting of the good book got old fast.
I remember the first day Bosco and I worked together. I remember the exact dates of the two times he was shot. I remember the exact date he crashed through a second story window. I remember the exact date that I finally told him I had cancer and I remember his exact words to me.
I remember him and Nicole and their bedroom experiments. I remember her outside the station the day they broke up. I remember the day she was attacked. I guess in a way I'll never forget that day cause if it weren't for that attack I think I'd be remembering another day: the day I lost my partner.my best friend.
I remember stupid stuff too like birthdays of ex-boyfriends although I forget my own brother's most of the time. I remember my first car was blue. My bedroom when I was twelve was green. I remember hiding a book from my mother for 49 days after it was overdue at the library. My locker number in 9th grade was number 406.
There are other dates I don't remember but for some reason I don't know why. Some of them are important. I should remember them right? For instance, there was the night he cried on my shoulder.the night Fred walked in to find me comforting my partner. The night is vivid in my memory; I just don't remember the exact date.
I remember what happened six months ago today. It was six weeks ago tonight that I took a long look at my partner. The night he fell asleep on my couch.the night I covered him with a blanket.the night I'd kissed his forehead.the night I slept alone in my bed.the night my divorce was final.
Six weeks now.if you asked Bosco about dates, he'd remember a lot of them. But if you asked him what day his partner's divorce was final, he'd give you a blank stare and then he'd turn to look at me.that questioning look in his eyes.
There's a lot of reason why I haven't told him. A lot had been going on. Bosco was moving on with his life. I was moving on with mine. I think for the first time in a long time we were in sync. We'd both been through stressful times. I think the whole thing with Cruz served as something else to focus on other than my pending divorce. For once, I was almost glad that Bosco's life was in turmoil. I needed a new focus. I was even happier when things worked out between us and we went back on patrol together. I needed him.I needed him more than he'd ever needed me and even without knowing, he'd been there for me.
For six weeks now, I'd gone home from work to an empty apartment. My kids were staying with their dad while I worked. I had them on weekends.my days off work.stuff like that. The whole divorce had gone pretty smooth. We'd split everything fifty-fifty. I kept the apartment while Fred moved in with his parents.for the time being anyway. He kept the truck since he'd won it. I didn't care anyway. It was more trouble then it was worth. Parking was a hassle and since it was wintertime it was even more of a hassle. I could live without it.
Part of the reason the divorce went as smoothly as it did was because it included nothing to do with custody. Fred and I had decided that the kids were old enough to choose where they wanted to live. I was surprised when, last week, Emily decided she wanted to live with me. Charlie wanted to live with his dad. I had some final arrangements to make before Emily came home but I was looking forward to having my daughter back.being a mom again.
As I sat in the living room, I decided to turn on the stereo. Without Fred or the kids, it was quiet.too quiet. I debated about calling Bosco and talking with him but I figured he was probably with Nicole. The two of them spent a lot of time together recently. She met his after work a couple times a week. I assumed he was spending the nights at her place. The two of them had been together for six weeks now.six weeks for Bosco was a lifetime.
I switched on the CD player, inserted a couple discs and pressed random play. The first song grabbed my attention. It was a Rod Stewart CD.the song's lyrics grabbed hold of my heart. I was mesmerized by the words:
When the one you love's in love with someone else Don't you know its torture I mean it's a living hell No matter how I try to convince myself this time I won't lose control One look in your blue eyes and suddenly my heart can't tell you no
I stood there in my living room, staring at my couch, the spot where just weeks ago Bosco had fallen asleep and I'd kissed him goodnight. As much as I knew he would do anything for me, I knew I couldn't call him. I'd been working with him and for once in his life, he seemed happy.and that happiness was a result of him and Nicole.
Tears formed in my eyes as I stood there, memories flooding my mind. I thought of all the times he'd been in the apartment.the glances he gave me every once in a while when we were on duty.the times when he'd touched me. Most recently he'd been there when Emily overdosed. Searching for her while a blizzard raged around us.there at the hospital waiting for word on her condition. I remembered the time when he was there, his soft touch on my shoulder as he told me to call him on his cell phone. He had been as worried about me as much as he was about Emily. I wondered now as I had many times over the years if his concern was just as a friend or if by chance he had cared more than as just a friend.
Getting up from the couch, I made my way to the hall closet. On the top shelf I pulled out a photo album. That same closet held the blanket I'd covered him with that night. I sat back down on the couch, wrapped in the blanket, flipping the pages of the album I'd kept hidden from Fred. My life with Bosco, nine years in all, confined in the pages of one album.
As I flipped through the pages of that album I realized several things. Bosco has the most beautiful blues eyes.he has a sweet yet devilish grin and a body that give the word sexy new meaning. Today was a day I would add to my memory of days remembered. Today I realized that my feelings for Bosco went deeper than just friendship. For nine years he'd been a constant in my life.my partner.my best friend. But when it came to women, the word constant wasn't in his vocabulary. Bosco was a rebel when it came to women. For nine years he'd gone from one woman to the next. For nine years he'd been unattached. Ironically that seemed to end the day my divorce was final..six weeks ago today.
to be continued...
For instance, I remember the day I married Fred. I remember the exact day, time, and location that both my kids were born. I remember meeting Bosco for the first time. I remember my first day on the force.the first time I fired my weapon.the first person I shot.the first life I took.
Then there's other stuff that I remember.other stuff that's important. Like I remember September 11th and how it changed my life. Fred was a good husband again and he stopped asking me to quit my job. I remember the day he had a heart attack in an elevator and I remember him reading the Bible. I'm not sure how long it took me to grow tired of hearing about it. Don't get me wrong, I believe in God and all that, I just have my own beliefs and Fred's constant quoting of the good book got old fast.
I remember the first day Bosco and I worked together. I remember the exact dates of the two times he was shot. I remember the exact date he crashed through a second story window. I remember the exact date that I finally told him I had cancer and I remember his exact words to me.
I remember him and Nicole and their bedroom experiments. I remember her outside the station the day they broke up. I remember the day she was attacked. I guess in a way I'll never forget that day cause if it weren't for that attack I think I'd be remembering another day: the day I lost my partner.my best friend.
I remember stupid stuff too like birthdays of ex-boyfriends although I forget my own brother's most of the time. I remember my first car was blue. My bedroom when I was twelve was green. I remember hiding a book from my mother for 49 days after it was overdue at the library. My locker number in 9th grade was number 406.
There are other dates I don't remember but for some reason I don't know why. Some of them are important. I should remember them right? For instance, there was the night he cried on my shoulder.the night Fred walked in to find me comforting my partner. The night is vivid in my memory; I just don't remember the exact date.
I remember what happened six months ago today. It was six weeks ago tonight that I took a long look at my partner. The night he fell asleep on my couch.the night I covered him with a blanket.the night I'd kissed his forehead.the night I slept alone in my bed.the night my divorce was final.
Six weeks now.if you asked Bosco about dates, he'd remember a lot of them. But if you asked him what day his partner's divorce was final, he'd give you a blank stare and then he'd turn to look at me.that questioning look in his eyes.
There's a lot of reason why I haven't told him. A lot had been going on. Bosco was moving on with his life. I was moving on with mine. I think for the first time in a long time we were in sync. We'd both been through stressful times. I think the whole thing with Cruz served as something else to focus on other than my pending divorce. For once, I was almost glad that Bosco's life was in turmoil. I needed a new focus. I was even happier when things worked out between us and we went back on patrol together. I needed him.I needed him more than he'd ever needed me and even without knowing, he'd been there for me.
For six weeks now, I'd gone home from work to an empty apartment. My kids were staying with their dad while I worked. I had them on weekends.my days off work.stuff like that. The whole divorce had gone pretty smooth. We'd split everything fifty-fifty. I kept the apartment while Fred moved in with his parents.for the time being anyway. He kept the truck since he'd won it. I didn't care anyway. It was more trouble then it was worth. Parking was a hassle and since it was wintertime it was even more of a hassle. I could live without it.
Part of the reason the divorce went as smoothly as it did was because it included nothing to do with custody. Fred and I had decided that the kids were old enough to choose where they wanted to live. I was surprised when, last week, Emily decided she wanted to live with me. Charlie wanted to live with his dad. I had some final arrangements to make before Emily came home but I was looking forward to having my daughter back.being a mom again.
As I sat in the living room, I decided to turn on the stereo. Without Fred or the kids, it was quiet.too quiet. I debated about calling Bosco and talking with him but I figured he was probably with Nicole. The two of them spent a lot of time together recently. She met his after work a couple times a week. I assumed he was spending the nights at her place. The two of them had been together for six weeks now.six weeks for Bosco was a lifetime.
I switched on the CD player, inserted a couple discs and pressed random play. The first song grabbed my attention. It was a Rod Stewart CD.the song's lyrics grabbed hold of my heart. I was mesmerized by the words:
When the one you love's in love with someone else Don't you know its torture I mean it's a living hell No matter how I try to convince myself this time I won't lose control One look in your blue eyes and suddenly my heart can't tell you no
I stood there in my living room, staring at my couch, the spot where just weeks ago Bosco had fallen asleep and I'd kissed him goodnight. As much as I knew he would do anything for me, I knew I couldn't call him. I'd been working with him and for once in his life, he seemed happy.and that happiness was a result of him and Nicole.
Tears formed in my eyes as I stood there, memories flooding my mind. I thought of all the times he'd been in the apartment.the glances he gave me every once in a while when we were on duty.the times when he'd touched me. Most recently he'd been there when Emily overdosed. Searching for her while a blizzard raged around us.there at the hospital waiting for word on her condition. I remembered the time when he was there, his soft touch on my shoulder as he told me to call him on his cell phone. He had been as worried about me as much as he was about Emily. I wondered now as I had many times over the years if his concern was just as a friend or if by chance he had cared more than as just a friend.
Getting up from the couch, I made my way to the hall closet. On the top shelf I pulled out a photo album. That same closet held the blanket I'd covered him with that night. I sat back down on the couch, wrapped in the blanket, flipping the pages of the album I'd kept hidden from Fred. My life with Bosco, nine years in all, confined in the pages of one album.
As I flipped through the pages of that album I realized several things. Bosco has the most beautiful blues eyes.he has a sweet yet devilish grin and a body that give the word sexy new meaning. Today was a day I would add to my memory of days remembered. Today I realized that my feelings for Bosco went deeper than just friendship. For nine years he'd been a constant in my life.my partner.my best friend. But when it came to women, the word constant wasn't in his vocabulary. Bosco was a rebel when it came to women. For nine years he'd gone from one woman to the next. For nine years he'd been unattached. Ironically that seemed to end the day my divorce was final..six weeks ago today.
to be continued...
