"I feel sorry for you Robert because you're too damned full of pride to let
anyone in. You came so close last night to allowing me to be your friend,
and now... now you're throwing everything away."
He started to protest, but she waved her hand and said firmly "I'm not finished yet." She continued: "You are a brilliant man Robert, but you are incredibly stupid. Yes, you're right, people do see you as arrogant, but that's because you are. And you're pompous, and cruel, and unkind, but even those horrid attributes aren't the worst of your vices."
"Oh, and I suppose you're going to tell me what is?" he asked skeptically.
"You're damn right I am. Your worst vice Dr. Robert Romano is the wall you've put around your heart. You won't let anyone in. Not even those that want to help you."
"Elizabeth, you don't understand."
"No Robert, I understand perfectly."
"I've been hurt Elizabeth, not just when my family died, but thereafter. By life and by love."
"Oh come on Robert. You're not so naïve enough to actually believe that you're the only one that's been hurt, are you? Everyone's been hurt Robert. I've had my heart broken many a times, but I don't push people away when all they want to do is help."
Her words were affecting him, though he didn't want to admit it. He knew she was right, Hell, she was always right. He'd never known her to be wrong. But she didn't know all sides of the story. And he didn't want to tell her... not... yet. But still, though he wanted to be strong, he felt the human inside him wanting to tell her the truth again. Not only because she was trying to help him, not only because he trusted her, not only because she was there, but also because he loved her. With every fiber of his being he loved her. He loved her 24 hours a day, seven days a week. And it was killing him emotionally, mentally, and physically trying to push her away.
"It's different for you Lizzie." He said, and looked downward.
She was incredulous. Everything was always worse for him. "How Robert? How is it different for me?" she questioned.
He didn't answer.
"Well Robert? If you're going to throw something as foolish as that at me you better bloody well have something to back it up with."
"You're you Lizzie" he said. "I'm me."
"And we're so different?" she asked.
"Yes. Yes we are. Can't you see it Elizabeth?"
"No Robert, I'm afraid I can't."
"Then I can't show it to you Lizzie." He said defeatedly.
"Of course you can't Robert. You're not willing to try."
And with that, Elizabeth Corday exited the lounge, preparing to make her rounds.
But inside the lounge was a broken man. He brought his hands to his face, backed against the wall, and slid down to the floor. What he felt inside was awful, and he didn't want to experience it. Robert "Rocket" Romano was terrified. He was terrified that he'd lost his only friend forever. He wanted to go to her, to tell her the words hidden so deep inside his heart, but he couldn't. He just couldn't show her the love he had inside his heart.
And he knew it. He knew he was a coward for running away. But he didn't know what else to do. A part of him said to stand up and fight, but he couldn't do that. He didn't know how. Not with Lizzie.
And the worst of it was he couldn't pretend like nothing had happened, that everything was okay, and go on and forget about Elizabeth Corday. That was the tragedy of love. You couldn't simply let it go. He knew that, Lord knows he'd tried to erase the feelings he had for her, but it wasn't possible. She was the only one that considered him a human, even if not fully, she was the only one that cared.
He'd heard it said once that letting go was the hardest part. But he didn't think so. Because if he COULD let go, he would gladly. But Robert Romano knew differently than the age old adage... holding on was the hardest part. Holding onto false hope was the worst experience anyone could ever encounter... and that is all Robert Romano felt he had: False hope.
He was a realist. Oh, how he was a realist, but he couldn't help the part of him that struggled to be an idealist. He wanted desperately to believe that Elizabeth could love him. And a part of him ignorantly held onto that false hope... but the rest of him knew that it could never be. She was a human, and he, was not.
Meanwhile, across the hospital, Elizabeth Corday was in an elevator thinking deeply about her conversation with Dr. Romano. 'What did he mean?' she pondered 'We're different. How are we different?'
This question plagued her for the rest of the day, yet she did not see Dr. Romano the rest of the day. She arrived at home to the sound of the ominous beep of the answering machine. 'Great, more people to call, more time to waste.' She thought.
She moseyed over to the answering machine and hit the 'play' button. There was a message from a telemarketer, oh how she despised them, one from her mother, yet another from a telemarketer, but it was the final one that caught her attention.
"Lizzie. It's me. Um, I think that we need to talk. I have some apologizing to do, and I'd really like to do it in person. So, uh, give me a call when you get this, thanks." And there was a pause. "Oh yeah, this is Robert" And then the beep signaling the end of the message.
She smiled to herself, musing over the last portion of the message. She had known who it was.
But she really didn't want to talk to him; she was still struggling inside of her mind. Should she call him or not? Could things actually be different?
He started to protest, but she waved her hand and said firmly "I'm not finished yet." She continued: "You are a brilliant man Robert, but you are incredibly stupid. Yes, you're right, people do see you as arrogant, but that's because you are. And you're pompous, and cruel, and unkind, but even those horrid attributes aren't the worst of your vices."
"Oh, and I suppose you're going to tell me what is?" he asked skeptically.
"You're damn right I am. Your worst vice Dr. Robert Romano is the wall you've put around your heart. You won't let anyone in. Not even those that want to help you."
"Elizabeth, you don't understand."
"No Robert, I understand perfectly."
"I've been hurt Elizabeth, not just when my family died, but thereafter. By life and by love."
"Oh come on Robert. You're not so naïve enough to actually believe that you're the only one that's been hurt, are you? Everyone's been hurt Robert. I've had my heart broken many a times, but I don't push people away when all they want to do is help."
Her words were affecting him, though he didn't want to admit it. He knew she was right, Hell, she was always right. He'd never known her to be wrong. But she didn't know all sides of the story. And he didn't want to tell her... not... yet. But still, though he wanted to be strong, he felt the human inside him wanting to tell her the truth again. Not only because she was trying to help him, not only because he trusted her, not only because she was there, but also because he loved her. With every fiber of his being he loved her. He loved her 24 hours a day, seven days a week. And it was killing him emotionally, mentally, and physically trying to push her away.
"It's different for you Lizzie." He said, and looked downward.
She was incredulous. Everything was always worse for him. "How Robert? How is it different for me?" she questioned.
He didn't answer.
"Well Robert? If you're going to throw something as foolish as that at me you better bloody well have something to back it up with."
"You're you Lizzie" he said. "I'm me."
"And we're so different?" she asked.
"Yes. Yes we are. Can't you see it Elizabeth?"
"No Robert, I'm afraid I can't."
"Then I can't show it to you Lizzie." He said defeatedly.
"Of course you can't Robert. You're not willing to try."
And with that, Elizabeth Corday exited the lounge, preparing to make her rounds.
But inside the lounge was a broken man. He brought his hands to his face, backed against the wall, and slid down to the floor. What he felt inside was awful, and he didn't want to experience it. Robert "Rocket" Romano was terrified. He was terrified that he'd lost his only friend forever. He wanted to go to her, to tell her the words hidden so deep inside his heart, but he couldn't. He just couldn't show her the love he had inside his heart.
And he knew it. He knew he was a coward for running away. But he didn't know what else to do. A part of him said to stand up and fight, but he couldn't do that. He didn't know how. Not with Lizzie.
And the worst of it was he couldn't pretend like nothing had happened, that everything was okay, and go on and forget about Elizabeth Corday. That was the tragedy of love. You couldn't simply let it go. He knew that, Lord knows he'd tried to erase the feelings he had for her, but it wasn't possible. She was the only one that considered him a human, even if not fully, she was the only one that cared.
He'd heard it said once that letting go was the hardest part. But he didn't think so. Because if he COULD let go, he would gladly. But Robert Romano knew differently than the age old adage... holding on was the hardest part. Holding onto false hope was the worst experience anyone could ever encounter... and that is all Robert Romano felt he had: False hope.
He was a realist. Oh, how he was a realist, but he couldn't help the part of him that struggled to be an idealist. He wanted desperately to believe that Elizabeth could love him. And a part of him ignorantly held onto that false hope... but the rest of him knew that it could never be. She was a human, and he, was not.
Meanwhile, across the hospital, Elizabeth Corday was in an elevator thinking deeply about her conversation with Dr. Romano. 'What did he mean?' she pondered 'We're different. How are we different?'
This question plagued her for the rest of the day, yet she did not see Dr. Romano the rest of the day. She arrived at home to the sound of the ominous beep of the answering machine. 'Great, more people to call, more time to waste.' She thought.
She moseyed over to the answering machine and hit the 'play' button. There was a message from a telemarketer, oh how she despised them, one from her mother, yet another from a telemarketer, but it was the final one that caught her attention.
"Lizzie. It's me. Um, I think that we need to talk. I have some apologizing to do, and I'd really like to do it in person. So, uh, give me a call when you get this, thanks." And there was a pause. "Oh yeah, this is Robert" And then the beep signaling the end of the message.
She smiled to herself, musing over the last portion of the message. She had known who it was.
But she really didn't want to talk to him; she was still struggling inside of her mind. Should she call him or not? Could things actually be different?