Title: Shadow Of My Broken Heart
DISCLAIMER: All main characters belong to Dick Wolf/NBC/Universal.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Post "Loss." This is just a short one (for me, anyway). I was driving the other night and this song came on and I immediately flashed to Olivia and Alex…I think I'm becoming obsessed. The song, "Can You Stop The Rain?" was written by John Bettis and Walter Afanasieff. I have used these lyrics without permission and hopefully that will not come back to bite me.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
"Here's another morning without you, here's another day will I get through it without breaking down?"
I had forgotten that this song was on this compilation CD. The melody starts and I stop everything I am doing, momentarily paralyzed. The rich, dulcet tones of Peabo Bryson's voice fills the room and time literally stands still. Every thought that I have ever had of you is suddenly crashing into my head like a landslide, an avalanche, an unstoppable force that I have no control over. Yes, another morning waking up without you in my arms, by my side, in my bed, in my apartment, in my life. A burning, torturous emptiness begins to build from within the pit of my stomach, the emotional pain nearly knocking the wind out of me as it travels up to my throat, almost strangling me with loss, stinging my eyes with tears. Will I get through one day, just one lousy, vacuous day without either choking up because something at work has reminded me of you or crying myself to sleep because of your overwhelming absence? I doubt it. It's a ritual now.
"Haven't seen the sun since you've been gone, like my heart, I lost it when you left me and it can't be found."
Days and nights come and go as though flipping through the pages of a thick, hard to read book. Elliot will arrive in the morning, breezing in with that smile of his and tell me what a beautiful day it is outside. He has to inform me because I never notice anymore. Every day could have the warmth of summer temperatures, possess the beauty of autumn, the child-like excitement of making a snowman in winter, and the freshness and newness of a spring shower and it would not register. I feel like my life has fused with my job. Dark. Depressing. Hopeless.
"How can I go on? Baby, I've been living on memories of you and me."
I fully understand now how a person could take their own life after losing someone close and precious to them. Someone who fueled that very existence just by their mere presence and like a bigger piece of them is missing than what they actually have left over of themselves. We lived as an extension of each other and when you were no longer there, it was as though I had lost a limb, had my heart cut out and couldn't control you bleeding out of me. I don't live my life in the present as I should. I dwell entirely on the past and the thoughts of us, what we were, what we had. It's the only thing that keeps me going, motivates my heart to beat, fills my lungs with air. Funny how when you lose someone so suddenly, you never remember the bad things, you only romanticize about all the good things. But I honestly cannot remember any bad things about us. Selective amnesia or true love? I opt for the latter.
"All the love we made, all those tender nights and those endless days, they're all here inside."
Before you, sex was just…well, sex. I tried to convince myself it had meaning and even attempted to apply that theory in some circumstances but it was still just a release for me. Until you. I never knew want until I met you. I never ached for anyone like I did for you. I never knew I could have such a raw, crippling desire inside me until you unintentionally showed me it was there. You taught me the difference between fucking and making love. I never knew something so intense could be so gentle and fragile at the same time. Time spent in bed with you was private, eternal, ours alone, sacred, on a pedestal – no one could come close to touching it. I never got tired of pleasing you, of hearing you say my name over and over in the throes of passion, of your treating my body like a hallowed treasure map in which you would explore every route to find your reward.
"Baby, can you stop the rain from falling? Won't you chase my clouds away? I'd give anything to see the sun again."
That's exactly what it feels like – a thunderstorm that brings torrential rain every day, rain that's cold and stings and blinding and frightening because there is no immediate end in sight. Since you have been gone, my work has become my life, my focus is totally on damaged victims and vicious perpetrators, because seeing the horrible side of life and making it analogous to my own perversely sustains me. Like a dark, foreboding cloud constantly looming overhead, threatening to envelop me completely, obscuring any semblance of ever seeing the sun again. Yeah, I would absolutely give anything to rid myself of constantly feeling emotionally overcast, devoid of any illumination ever entering my life again. But it's an incurable affliction without you.
"Only you can stop these tears from falling, I can't face another day. Baby, can you stop the rain?"
I won't cry in front of my co-workers, as I somehow feel it renders me weak around them, even though I know beyond a reasonable doubt that if they knew what propelled my waterworks, they would more than understand. Hell, they'd probably join me. Instead, I channel my solitude and loneliness into aggressive anger toward the conscienceless criminals who feed on innocent, helpless women and children who cannot protect themselves. I pursue them with a vengeance, the same conviction with which you would prosecute them on the stand. Then, at the end of my day, which sometimes never seems to end, I go home to the emptiness of not only my apartment but my life and the tears come without provocation. You are the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep and the first thing on my mind when I wake up. This storm would stop if I could just see you again.
"Everywhere I go I feel you there, following my footsteps like a shadow of my broken heart."
It amazes me how I can see your face, hear your voice, feel you near wherever I am, wherever I go. I realize it's just wishful thinking that you never left this city and I am going to turn a corner and you'll be standing there. I thought that sensation would fade in time, however, it just gets stronger. Make no mistake about it, Alex, you attracted me like no one else ever has and I think it was the strength of that allure and admiration that holds my heart hostage now, looking for you in everyone I see to rescue me.
"Sometimes it's a pair of passing eyes or it's just the way someone is talking and there you are."
Your look, your expression, those cobalt blue eyes that used to bore through me when you were angry and melt me when you weren't. How you would engage me through those glasses – oh, those glasses. On anyone else, they never would have had the effect. I desperately try to find that look now in everyone I see and occasionally I kid myself into thinking I can make it so but I can't. At the strangest and most inopportune times, I am positive I hear your voice and I just know I am going to look up and see your face.
"Am I all alone? Don't you ever wake up and reach for me where I used to be?"
I used to consider myself the least emotionally invested of the two of us. Guess I was lying to myself. It was all bravado, to keep up that image I had thought I created that no one probably believed but me, anyway. I don't think you could possible hurt as much as I do without you, feel as alone. The first few months you were gone, I used to awaken and reach out for you to pull you into me. I could almost still feel you there. For the longest time, I wouldn't, couldn't wash the pillow on your side of the bed because it still smelled like you. Not just your perfume and shampoo but the whole essence of what was you. Some might call that pathetic. Others would advise me to move on. But they didn't have you and they didn't lose you. And, as much as I ache for you, I wonder if you are feeling the same, thinking you could not feel this vacant, hoping you aren't because this is an open wound that will never heal unless, until you are back in my life again. So painful, too much agony, misery, unnecessary suffering due to the void created by your hasty exit.
"Is there any chance? I just can't believe you're not lonely, too. Just for me and you."
The idea of you having found someone else is excruciating to me. I want you to be happy but that is a double-edged sword. If they never catch the bastard responsible for you having to go away, I don't expect you to spend the rest of your life wanting and waiting for me. I love you so much, I want you to be happy and live as normal a life as you can. But the vision of you with someone other than me is more than a knife in my heart, it would be an assault on my soul. If I never see you again, I will eventually involve myself with someone else. But that hope of your return will always be there, you will always be inside me and regardless of where I go or what I do, I will always be lonely for us..
"If you are here for only one night, baby, I know you'd remember."
The way we touched each other was a rebirth, every time like the first time, a sexual rejuvenation, a spiritual revival of libidos. Your fingers on my skin lit an instant fire deep inside me, an out of control flame, a burning, raging inferno that could only be controlled by you. Even when we would rest afterward, exhausted from the blazing passion that had pleasantly seared my desire for you, the glowing embers that were left behind could and would unpredictably flare up at any time, and we would go through the motions all over again.
"Cause loving you once wasn't time enough, I know we can make it together."
I am glad I am not at work right now and that I am home. The memory of you and I devouring each other, our love sometimes being the only nourishment we would need, flushes my face with want and hunger for you. I don't know how long it will be before we can be together again but I do know that no matter how much time passes, having you in my life for that short period was not enough. I realize I should be grateful for the time we did have together but I instinctively know there is more in store for us.
"Baby, stop the rain…"
Come back, Alex. Until then, I'll endure the storm…my heart will wait.
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