Author: Lithium Shamrock (LI)
Spoilers: Nothing specific.
Paring: G/S
Authors note: Sara reflects.
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Words.
I don't have enough words.
No.
I don't have the right words. Or I think I don't. Somedays I think I know nothing.
The words; they're in my mind; I just hope I convey them to you when I smile.
I hope you can see my feelings in my smile.
I try to do what you do. I try to make the subtle hints; not to serious, not to playful. I try to reciprocate the words you give me, change them; but not they're meaning, and give them back to you. That way, I wont make a fool of myself.
But I seem to be doing that without trying.
And sometimes without realising until days later.
I feel inferior to you. I keep trying to succeed at being your equal. But I remain your student. And I know you see me that way.
I will never be you're equal. And you will never accept me.
Maybe things would have been different if I never went to you're lecture. You still see me as one of those eager faces hungry for knowledge.
And maybe I am still hungry for knowledge.
There's always been boundaries between us.
Student and Teacher.
Employer and Employee.
But if you don't want to cross the boundary, why force me too?
I don't understand why you say the things you say. You know the effect they cause, and you never follow through. I have to do the work, you force me into a corner, and if I try to escape – you make me feel guilty.
You give me incentive, lead me places, and leave me.
And I'm alone now.
You've left me here.
And I feel empty.
Because the memories of you are creating a void.
They're like empty calories, but not as sweet.
They serve no purpose.
Memories; They're tangled and distorted now, contexts unclear. Some times I'm not even sure if the things you said to me where real…
…but they seem so vivid……
'Since I met you'
It took me a whole month to think of a reply to that.
And it was a month to late. And you probably would have shrugged it off, or pretended you didn't hear me.
I don't even think a visit from you could save me from where I am now.
I don't know if you're afraid of commitment. I don't know it's something from your past. I don't know if it's me.
And that's because we don't talk.
We avoid the issue.
But we both acknowledge that we avoid the issue.
But I feel something every time you look at me.
And I wish I didn't.
And I'm confused as hell. There's no equation or theory that I can put into practice and work you out with.
You, Gil Grissom, are an enigma.
And I feel such a strong pull to you.
And I'm going crazy. Some days I think it's love; because only love could hurt this much.
Other days; I think I'm imagining it. You say the harshest things to me, and they burn. And I think that someone who felt something for me couldn't say those words. Or at least, they couldn't mean them.
And I play your words over and over in my mind, whether they're bitter or sweet.
Because I'm looking for something.
I'm looking for a clue.
The missing piece of evidence that tells me who to respond. That tells me whether I'm crazy or confused.
Or both.
But I can't stand 'this' anymore.
It's too much for me.
I know if I leave I'll miss you….
…But you make me feel like I've already left.
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Please review.
Spoilers: Nothing specific.
Paring: G/S
Authors note: Sara reflects.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Words.
I don't have enough words.
No.
I don't have the right words. Or I think I don't. Somedays I think I know nothing.
The words; they're in my mind; I just hope I convey them to you when I smile.
I hope you can see my feelings in my smile.
I try to do what you do. I try to make the subtle hints; not to serious, not to playful. I try to reciprocate the words you give me, change them; but not they're meaning, and give them back to you. That way, I wont make a fool of myself.
But I seem to be doing that without trying.
And sometimes without realising until days later.
I feel inferior to you. I keep trying to succeed at being your equal. But I remain your student. And I know you see me that way.
I will never be you're equal. And you will never accept me.
Maybe things would have been different if I never went to you're lecture. You still see me as one of those eager faces hungry for knowledge.
And maybe I am still hungry for knowledge.
There's always been boundaries between us.
Student and Teacher.
Employer and Employee.
But if you don't want to cross the boundary, why force me too?
I don't understand why you say the things you say. You know the effect they cause, and you never follow through. I have to do the work, you force me into a corner, and if I try to escape – you make me feel guilty.
You give me incentive, lead me places, and leave me.
And I'm alone now.
You've left me here.
And I feel empty.
Because the memories of you are creating a void.
They're like empty calories, but not as sweet.
They serve no purpose.
Memories; They're tangled and distorted now, contexts unclear. Some times I'm not even sure if the things you said to me where real…
…but they seem so vivid……
'Since I met you'
It took me a whole month to think of a reply to that.
And it was a month to late. And you probably would have shrugged it off, or pretended you didn't hear me.
I don't even think a visit from you could save me from where I am now.
I don't know if you're afraid of commitment. I don't know it's something from your past. I don't know if it's me.
And that's because we don't talk.
We avoid the issue.
But we both acknowledge that we avoid the issue.
But I feel something every time you look at me.
And I wish I didn't.
And I'm confused as hell. There's no equation or theory that I can put into practice and work you out with.
You, Gil Grissom, are an enigma.
And I feel such a strong pull to you.
And I'm going crazy. Some days I think it's love; because only love could hurt this much.
Other days; I think I'm imagining it. You say the harshest things to me, and they burn. And I think that someone who felt something for me couldn't say those words. Or at least, they couldn't mean them.
And I play your words over and over in my mind, whether they're bitter or sweet.
Because I'm looking for something.
I'm looking for a clue.
The missing piece of evidence that tells me who to respond. That tells me whether I'm crazy or confused.
Or both.
But I can't stand 'this' anymore.
It's too much for me.
I know if I leave I'll miss you….
…But you make me feel like I've already left.
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Please review.