The Language Of Hope
One of the worst things about the attempted suicide of someone you love - except for the fear of losing them - is that it makes you speechless. You just don't know what to say, except for platitudes, you don't know what is expected. You want to make it better, but just don't know how. Afraid to say the wrong things. Saying the wrong things.
I can't seem to communicate with Blair right now; I can't even begin to clear with myself what I'm feeling. There I thought that I, that we'd get it together eventually, pack up our things here and find a new future somewhere else - I wonder if it wasn't just an illusion, or even delusion, when he'd always kept that little box hidden in his room.
I'm disappointed, I'm angry, I'm... damn it.
It's his reaction I can't get over, this - cringing. What did he think I'd do? Well, I know. I'm also aware that there must be some kind of history, those things just don't come out of nowhere, but it was basically me who triggered it.
Shaking my head at myself, I realize that I haven't even had the opportunity to ask him what he thinks of my plans. Maybe he doesn't *want* to start over again somewhere?
No, that can't be it.
What seems like a lifetime ago, Blair was ready to throw away his future for me, got a cheap compromise in return, and again, he accepted it - but even that didn't work out.
Take that, I direct silently at whatever incarnation of fate is listening, I don't fucking care. There's got to be a way. Any way. We haven't been through all that shit with Alex and Zeller for nothing; I won't let him go. I just won't.
I'll talk to Simon first thing in the morning; I'll ask Dad for advice, and maybe we could start over in the security business. I know about cops who've done it successfully, and why shouldn't we? Yeah, right. First of all, I've got to talk to Sandburg, find out what he *really* wants.
I know, I've made decisions without asking him first before - and look where it took us.
Never again, I swear to myself.
End of Arc 1