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"And your body is just another decorated war zone; it's among the Many who fight..."

I know, without a doubt, that I never allow myself to be alone. I drown my sorrows in work, the misery of others, and sex. I do these self-destructive actions for only one reason: I am afraid of myself. I am afraid of when the broken bones do not set themselves correctly, or when feeling pain does not placate me anymore. There is only one person who makes me safe to myself, but I know I can never have her. Her presence makes me a little sure of myself and the long day seems a little brighter. That is, until, I see the deep burses and cuts that are align with my body. Most people think that they are just reminders of pain. They are reminders of something, but not pain. They are reminders that I am alive. They tell me, at one time, I was alive and I was still breathing. When a burse does not set, or a cut does not draw blood I am pissed.
I once was told that I needed help, and I obliged. When that made me hate myself more for being so weak, I fell back into oblivion and stayed there until Olivia made her presence was noted. I always thought that because there were people worse people off that I, I did not qualify to need help. I always thought that I was wining to myself; that I should just suck it up, because nobody admires a weakling.
When I was seeking help, I felt as if my soul had been raped, and all my secrets were ripped from my hands. My secrets they were laid out on a table, and all that happened was that I was yelled at for being stupid. Well, if one thing I know is true, it is that I will never ask for help again. It is signing my own death certificate, I know, but I really don't care; I just like seeing burses and purple cuts. When I told my story, I knew what my victims go through. I see how they feel as if something was taken from them, and how there is an empty void, just waiting to be filled.

Olivia is my guardian angel. She sees right through me, and I know, for once, that somebody cares for me. For a person like me, independence is momentous. I will not let anybody do anything for me. I won't let them help. Olivia is the only person who does not suck up or baby me. I love that. She knows that I need independence, or I would just explode. She sees my scars as strength, and that I can take care of myself. In addition, I know that I do not have to be perfect around her. She knows that if we didn't have a secret pact of admiration for each other, I would go crazy. Every day, my objective is for people to respect me, because I do not respect myself. She knows, that I know, that she makes me human. Sometimes I wonder why I don't call her over and tell her how much I am in love with her. However, I cannot do that, because she cares for me emotionally, and I would just be talking advantage of that situation. Ever the detective, she knows this also.

All these years alone have made me nothing short of bitter. I hate everyone around me, and I know they hate me too. That is why I became a lawyer. I when I was growing up, nobody took care of me. Therefore, when my six-year-old mind reasoned that nobody cared, I was the one who started. I made sure that if I could make myself happy by my deeds, well, that was all the taking care of I needed. Nevertheless, when I was getting ready for college, and nobody was giving me that push that I needed, I ended up giving myself a push that sent me over a cliff.

Olivia is coming over tonight and I think I might just trough up the little food that I have eaten today. I love her, but this is just a business meeting. Remember, Alex, never mix business with pleasure.
I hope it leads to nothing more than that. She is coming over for a review of the current case; hopefully, we can be relaxed mutual friends. Yeah, Alex, like you can act that casually around Olivia Benson.
"Olivia, Olivia, what am I going to do with you," I speak aloud.
Then, as if the gods wanted to kick a fucking puppy, the doorbell rang. I had to admit, though, I was a little more at ease when I knew who was waiting for me to answer the door.
I quickly crossed the hallway of my less than lived in apartment, and I opened the door to my awaiting fate. The woman who saves my soul on a daily bases was there just smiling at me. It was Just a simple smile that said volumes.
"How are you?" a simple question to some, but to me she is asking "I hope your day didn't wasn't bad. I don't want to lose you."
I sighed. I through a lopsided smile at her and looked deep into her eyes. "I'm going well," I say.
She smiles a little wider and says, "I'm glad,"
Oh god, I love this woman.
I ask her what she needed to review that she did not already know.
She says that it's the Simon case.
"Really," I ask
Yes. Her reply was soft.
Ah, Olivia, I hate you. We don't have a Simon case.
"What do you need to know," I ask her. Two can play this game.
"I need..." she starts "to know the exact course of action the DA's office is planning to take."
I love her stammering; it's so unlike my strong detective.
"Well," I start, "I think we are going to prosecute him for 20 to life on all counts consecutively, not concurrently, like the defense is asking for," I finish then added to this little mantra, "Is that all you needed, because I don't really think that question warrants a visit to my home." I say it my prosecutor's voice. That is the voice that years of self- ostracization and parental forgetfulness taught me. It is also the voice that the numerous "ice queen" slurs are directed too.
Olivia just stands there looking down. She knows, that I know, she has no good reason for this visit.
I ask her what's going on, and all she says is that's she worried.
"About what," I ask
about me, she answers softly.

I am furious. She is the one who is supposed to support me and leave me the fuck alone! God, how could she do this to me?

"Olivia," I say, "it takes five seconds to walk to that door. I am going to give you two."She leaves without a fight. Part of me wanted that to happen, just to see how much she loves me. Still, she violated the unspoken rule about our ongoing love/hate relationship: never speak about anything that could show my vulnerabilities.
However, seeing, as it was a genuine act of endearment, I will forgive her soon.
I now I just feel bad.