| Jay's Random Answer of the Week #70 |
[Apr. 20th, 2005|06:04 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  impressed | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | George Fenton piano score | ] |
If you could trade lives with one person for a day, who would it be, and what would you do?
Right now, this moment, even though she'd cringe and beat me over the head with one of her big-ass five-hundred-page British mystery novels, I would jump at the chance to be Brittany Colefield, or maybe just to get into her head. Not for any of the obvious reasons - the medals, the saving of the world, the attitude, the expertise on all things baseball - though those things do endear me to her, as a long-distance friend and as a fellow byproduct of the CTU system. I'd want to be her for the stupid, crazy, reckless, insane, unbelievable thing she just did a few days ago.
She gave up everything she has worked for over the last five years, her kingdom above the street, her perfect world -- to go across the whole damn country to godforsaken freezing New Jersey just to be with this guy she fell in love with out of the blue. As the old Nancy Wilson goes, she gave it all for love. It's the kind of romantic gesture we only read about and daydream about. And he accepted her with open arms. It's a fairytale. It's perfect.
I wish I could have that.
It's not like I wouldn't do the same for Helena. She knows I would; I told her on Valentine's Day that I'd quit my job if it would make it easier for her to date me. Freaked the hell out of her, and truth be told I'd like for it not to go that far, but I would do it for her. That's what you do for true love. If you love somebody, really love somebody, there are no limits to your love, at least that's the way I see it. Helena is a wonderful, beautiful, special woman and would be worth whatever I could give her and more. And it's not like with her I'd have to move across the country. Maybe just a little bit across the city, but that would be after several years of conventional dating, trust me.
I would do exactly what Brittany did in a heartbeat. But if I never get the chance to get that far, I just wouldn't mind being her for a little bit, just to see what the happy ending's really like. Because you know that girl, and that sacrifice, is gonna get a happy ending. And happy endings, well, they just make me a little bit misty.
-Jay |
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| Jay's Random Answer of the Week #68 |
[Mar. 12th, 2005|11:30 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  amused | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | From The Heart - Hoobastank | ] |
What in my life am I most dissatisfied with, and why?
Like I said somewhere previously, I've been around the block a few times, painted into my share of corners, taken my share of punches (although I've dished more than a few out myself). I know I'm equal parts gifted and lucky to be where I am today. That knowledge colors my attitude. I don't complain about what I've been given because I know what it's like to be written off for something like dead. I try to turn the negative into the positive, which is generally the story of my life.
I know that's not a real answer to the question, so I guess if I had to pick something, I'd have to go with the circumstances that landed me where I am today - the prejudgment that I'm a maverick and a rebel and I wasn't going to have a future within the CTU system unless you counted sleeping at my desk at Avalon Island.
...I mean, didn't we learn anything from Erving Goffman? Don't label. It's that simple. Labeling is wrong. Labeling can lead to secondary or even worse, career deviance. I stood up for my opinions, I found solutions where they weren't thought to be, I dug my heels in and never let go of a case or a cause. Just because I dared to think differently and maybe get a little intense with my superiors from time to time, I got called a maverick, labeled a deviant, and spent my time paying for their judgment of me. They didn't really know who I was inside, didn't bother to stop and think about it, not until Helena came along, anyway. Thank God I was never even tempted to internalize the label.
Yet even that isn't entirely wrong. It's created a certain constructive image that I can use for people that don't know me that well. I can make them think I will do anything in order to win out, that I could be dangerous, that I should be looked out for. It's pretty stupid stuff, but it can come in handy when I've got to lean on somebody or draw attention away from something or otherwise make myself useful. For all the grief, I've taken the presupposition of my rogue identity and learned to make it complement my real concept of who I am.
All those trips around the block had their purpose, in the end. They landed me here, didn't they?
-Jay |
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| Jay's Random Answer of the Week #67 |
[Mar. 7th, 2005|07:09 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  curious | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Mad Season - Matchbox 20 | ] |
If I could change one person's mind about something, who and what would it be?
I know what anyone who knows me is thinking right now. There's a really obvious answer to this question for me ... and I'm taking it. But I'm also not taking it. If that makes no sense to you, keep reading, I'll endeavor to make it come together by the end.
I'd love to be able to change Helena's mind about our not being involved with each other. She hasn't said no, but she hasn't said yes either, and I know now she's starting to worry about leading me on, which she never has, by the way. I would love it if she decided she wanted to be with me. There would be no greater moment in my life. No matter what else happened, if she loved me like I love her, everything would be okay. Better than okay. It'd be perfect.
But you know what? I don't want to change her mind. That's something she has to do for herself. I want whatever she decides to be whatever she decides, whatever she really wants, not something she thinks she has to feel or thinks she has to want. I want her to be genuine, for being with me to be the best choice for her. I wouldn't dare change her mind. She's got to do that herself, and she really doesn't have to do it at all, if she doesn't want to.
So I'll just wait and see what happens. Call me a coward if you must, but I prefer to think of it as just letting serendipity take its course.
-Jay |
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| Jay's Random Answer of the Week #66 |
[Feb. 28th, 2005|12:25 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  accomplished | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | I Would Never - The Blue Nile | ] |
What can I say is truly mine?
There's a list on a piece of notebook paper in the drawer next to my bed. I've seriously thought about typing it up now and then, but ... it seems like doing that would ruin the history of this one particular piece of paper, and it has a lot of history. I've looked at it every day for two decades, memorizing it, adding to it, subtracting from it with a clean strikethrough. It's a list of all the regrets I have in my life. There's no specific qualification, just ... Anything I regret doing, or not doing, or saying, or not saying, or confronting, or not confronting. Whenever there's a moment in time where I wish things had ended differently, the cause of it probably will end up on the list someday soon.
It's a list that has changed with time and reflection, and it's something I don't take lightly. I try to cross something off that list every day. I've taken care of some things, I've added others, but my goal is to eliminate everything on that list someday. These aren't trivial things, either. This is something that deserves time, respect, contemplation, and effort out of me. Although, there was that one time I said I regretted not bringing Rick more Krispy Kreme donuts, but it was largely because the look on his face killed me. It was that sad puppy dog look. I can't take that. Especially not from him. He's already doing his hero worship thing, and I don't want to think I've wounded him or something. But the point is ... That list isn't just me being cute. It's me trying to be better than I am.
So I come home every day and I look at that list, and if I'm lucky, I cross something off of it. That's not my driving force, but if there's an opportunity for me, I'll take it. Like when I conquered my fear of death during the mayoral sniper case. Somewhere in the middle of that, all the botched security tapes and the blackout and the shattered Greek statue, dying just didn't bother me anymore. So I got to go home and cross that one off. That took me a long while, but the list has been around a long while, too, since I was seventeen. I've had a lot of time to compose it, and I'll have a lot of time to deconstruct it.
I'm sure there are ones that will be harder to handle than others. Like trying to understand Helena. I was able to cross off telling her how I feel, but honesty doesn't always guarantee understanding. We have a lot to learn about each other, and it's going to take work and time from both of us. She's not ready yet, and that's okay. That line on the list can stay for a while.
But mostly? I'm proud of that list, what it represents, what I've accomplished. I own my regrets, just like I own my mistakes. Most of the time, those two terms are the same thing. And no matter how bad things get, I can come home and look at that list and know that I'm trying to be a better man, and getting something done besides. That list, that sense of accomplishment, is mine and mine alone, though I don't doubt - in fact, I hope - its effects are felt well beyond my small corner of humankind.
That would be something I'd never regret.
-Jay |
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| Jay's Random Answer of the Week #65 |
[Feb. 18th, 2005|04:13 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | amused | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Everything You Want - Vertical Horizon | ] |
Beautiful.
I dropped out, I burned up, I fought my way back from the dead
I tuned in, I turned on, remembered the things that you said...
"What the...?" Jay Payton turned, flicking Edwin McCain down with one errant turn of the wrist as he heard the sound of someone knocking on his door. He hadn't been expecting anyone, but that didn't necessarily mean someone wasn't looking for him, or that something hadn't happened. He knew well enough that evenings spent reading and surfing cable channels could be interrupted by a call to save a situation gone horribly wrong. That was the thing with CTU. You never knew. He might be walking around his apartment in jeans and a Vertical Horizon tour T-shirt now, and in just a few seconds he could be grabbing his SigArm and going to war. Either situation suited him.
When he opened the door, he couldn't help but smile. "Helena," he said, stepping back to let her in. She looked good - as if she ever looked anything but - in the same outfit she'd worn to work: a button-down light blue shirt and tan pants. "Is it something I did, didn't do, say or didn't say?" he quipped as she walked in, running through the litany of possible reasons for women to be angry with men. She merely smiled. "Purely a personal visit, Jay. Relax."
"I'm relaxed. You know me, when have I ever not been relaxed?" he quipped, even as his brain was trying to figure out what was going on. Helena was a friend, but mostly things were about business for her. She kept work at work and personal matters personal. If she were here, she had a good reason, and it wasn't something she could have brought up at work. Jay sighed and crossed to the couch, sinking into it, crossing his legs and leaving space beside him for her to follow. "What's going on?" he asked, not bothering to hide the concern in his eyes.
Helena smiled slightly, like she was forcing it, and settled beside him, turning to look him dead in the eyes. Jay didn't totally like what he saw. "I wanted to talk to you. About some of the things you said Monday."
He groaned. "Helena, please. I meant every word and you know that..."
"...Damn it, Jay, just shut up until I have time to form the question, okay?" she cut him off. "You seem to be getting good at showing me a side of you I didn't know, and I've known you a long time."
"It makes you feel any better," he said, wanting but not daring to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "I didn't know it either. Not until ... well, you know." He dared chuckle a little, because as soon as he'd known, so had she. He could still remember kissing her, then before anything could be said or done, taking off and leaving her - and the whole office - speechless. That was just the kind of thing Jay Payton did. One of the other ones was love with all of his heart and soul, and he loved her. How many times had he said it now?
Helena wasn't wavering. "Jay, you do know that leaving CTU is pretty much it for your career. There's nowhere else you can go. You really can't transfer, although you could try. If you leave, you don't have anywhere to go."
"I know. I knew that when I said it." Jay shifted in his seat, glancing at her. "Look, I love my job and I especially love it here. I'm proud of what we've done, and what we're gonna do. But the fact remains that I love you more than that. I know you play by the rules, so if it makes it easier for you if I'm not in your chain of command, I'd rather quit and have you than stay and watch you leave without me. But I also still mean it when I said I'll wait as long as it takes."
She sighed, looking at him dead on. "Your strategy for this is to just be the nicest person you can be, isn't it?"
"Something like that." He chuckled. "I've been around long enough to know how to play the game. The right way. Though not to imply this is a game to me at all."
"I get the idea." Helena smiled at him. "Although, I'll give you this, you're a hell of a kisser."
"Really? I hadn't noticed."
"Bullshit you hadn't noticed," and she was laughing now.
"No, really. I'm serious. It's not like that's really what I'm paying attention to when I'm kissing somebody," he protested, grinning despite himself.
"What the hell are you paying attention to, then?" It was the natural question. He could hear the cross-section of daring and interest in her voice. Jay studied her for a long moment, pondering not only the right answer but the one that would actually get through to her.
"You," he finally said. "Because you're beautiful."
There was a pause as her hand covered his and he squeezed reassuringly, watching her the whole time. Watching as her glance softened and the corners of her lips quirked. "Thank you," she said, then: "Are you ever going to stop complimenting me?"
"Make me." He grinned, and watched her smile. "You can't, can you? I didn't think so."
"Oh, you just don't know yet."
"I assume there are many things I don't know, but I'm pretty smart, I graduated magna cum laude, remember?" he pointed out, thinking then that all was right in the universe. That this was the way it was supposed to be. And that she should smile more often, as she was beautiful when she smiled. |
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| Valentine's Day |
[Feb. 14th, 2005|08:44 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  hopeful | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Back In The High Life Again - Steve Winwood | ] |
He made sure he was at work early that morning. Not on time, not fashionably late as he always was, but early, so the roses were on her desk before she arrived and before anyone else could see him in possession of them, though Jay Payton was kidding himself if he didn't think anyone and everyone in the CTU San Francisco compound wouldn't put two and two together instantaneously. Never mind that he wasn't sure he was totally awake yet; he had choreographed this thing perfectly, with the delicate precision of an artist and the heart of a true romantic. Sleep deprivation, while a major evil, was a lesser sacrifice on this day.
Despite that, he looked good and he knew it. Were he being honest with himself, he was ridiculously good-looking, though to tell him such would just make him blush, and he was one of those people who looked better stirred than put together. He'd worn the shirt Jason had once said brought out his eyes, the massive watch she'd bought him for his birthday, the old familiar leather jacket on his shoulders ... he'd get hit on if he went out in public. Of course, he didn't seem to attract his type, and it didn't matter anyway, given that he only had eyes for one woman. Add to that his ability to play innocent perfectly. As she walked in, he played his normal act, sitting at his desk, checking his e-mail, doing just the slightest bit of the innocent look, not even paying attention. He knew that he would know when she knew what he'd done.
The roses had been simple enough; the card was a bit harder. It'd taken him three tries and a lot of talking to himself. Finally, he'd settled on just being himself.
You didn't think I'd just let this day go by, did you? That would be a glaring omission on my part. You don't need to say or do anything - nothing has to change, nothing has to happen. But know this, whatever does or doesn't happen - you're still the one I want.
"Jay," she finally said, snapping him out of his subconscious. He'd played the act too well and started to drift off again. He glanced up and saw her standing behind her desk. So, too, had everyone else around him, and as he slid out of his chair like nothing was wrong, he knew Mike, Jason, Rick and Anita were all watching him with not-so-well-hid smiles, thinking that this stunt was typical Jay. Hell, Rick was probably doing the golf clap or something.
He walked in and leaned against her doorframe like nothing was going on. "Yeah?" he said, keeping his tone as normal as possible, though he suspected his lips were curling and there was a trace of mirth somewhere in there he couldn't help.
"You got me flowers," Helena continued, referring to the vase that she'd moved next to her computer.
"I got you flowers," he repeated noncommittally. "It's no big deal, really. I wanted to, so I did."
"Jay."
"How do you make my name sound like a blessing and/or a curse?" he had to wonder aloud. There was a pause, and he sighed. "Seriously, Helena. This is me. I'm not trying to push you into getting with me. I love you and this is the commercial holiday for expressions of that. Hence, the flowers." Another pause, and he added, "There actually is a phase two..." nonchalantly.
"There's more of this?" Bingo. He had her hooked. Helena was just as proactive with mysteries as he was. She wanted the whole picture. Watching her eyebrow arch, Jay nodded. "Come out with me tonight. Dinner and a movie. It won't even be a date, not if you don't want it to be." He held up his hands as if to indicate his surrender to her supreme authority.
Helena's response wasn't unexpected. "You're asking me out?"
"Actually, I thought I did that when I kissed you, but if you want it in words, then yeah." He nodded. "I love you, I do. If you want to go out with me, then I'll be the happiest person on the freaking planet. You don't want to date, we can just go out as friends and we won't be fucking miserable. I don't care how you want to frame it. C'mon. Live a little."
That last sentence had to needle her, he knew. She chuckled. "It'd be a shame to waste the immense effort it must have taken you to get out of bed today. Okay. I'll come. But it's not a date," she added quickly. Jay smiled. "Either way, you've just made me happy," he said, smiling back at her and then walking out of her office with the grin still on his face. Phase one had worked like a charm. Now, to not screw up phase two, and he'd be okay.
****
It was amazing, the detail that Jay had examined in attempting to plan the perfect evening. The holiday had only given him the perfect cover, the one opportunity. He didn't see another one coming his way any time soon, and that meant not squandering this one. He'd worried over this for at least a week and a half, talking to Brad on the phone, talking to himself when nobody was looking. Part of that involved picking the perfect movie, and he felt he had. The release of Hitch was timed perfectly, and he figured they could both use a good comedy.
The movie was better than he expected. He was disturbed to see the actress who bore a resemblance to Helena, except she had different hair, but Helena herself didn't seem to notice. They laughed together, smiled at some parts, and when Jay offered wry commentary, Helena volleyed right back. The conversation he was having with her was well worth the few odd glances from other people in the theater.
Words were on his tongue, but he swallowed them until she glanced at him. "What are you thinking?" she asked, and he could never lie, especially not to her.
"That I'd transfer or resign if I had to," he said, looking away from her, at the screen, because he didn't want to see her reaction.
He could hear her breathe. "You wouldn't do that," she said, thinking the 'for me' that she didn't say. "This job is everything to you, and probably the last chance you have." She was slipping into boss logic now, and he knew it.
"Yeah, that's true," he admitted. "But I would."
She didn't say anything. He finally nodded toward the screen. "Watch the movie. Forget I ever said it, okay?"
Yet he knew she never would, not tonight, not ever. And that he'd spoken an honest truth.
****
"Dance with me?" he offered after they'd gone through dinner, dessert and a 'state of the world' conversation, casting his glance out onto the floor as the first few instrumental strains floated to his ears.
She chuckled. "I don't know. Are you going to dance as badly as Kevin James?"
"Yeah, I don't think so." Jay smiled. "Just, if it makes it better, we have to both swear never to tell any of the guys," he quipped. It got her to grin. "I won't tell if you don't," she replied, and took his hand and let him lead her out onto the dance floor.
Jay Payton had acquired a number of hidden talents over his many tours of duty, not to mention many and varied life experiences. He had a fluid grace to him that was evident whether he was chasing down a suspect or simply multitasking at his desk, and that came naturally to him as he took Helena gently into his arms. "I'm not totally hopeless," he whispered between them, and she laughed. "I didn't say anything," she told him.
"That's true, you didn't." And as he forced himself to think according to the rhythm of the Gloria Estefan song and not by the nine billion emotions running through his head, he didn't say anything about how her proximity was causing his pulse to take off at a new speed he didn't even know it had.
We are never too afraid of taking chances
Searching in the dark with no concerns
But it's always the same with all romances
It's the heart that never seems to learn
Thinking that it's finally my turn
Like a fool believing every word
You tell me that it's over
But that's not what I heard
'Cause my heart just never seems to learn
"Listen, Jay, about what you said earlier..." Helena began, looking worried.
Jay shook his head. "What? Do you want me to say it again? I already said it once, so it's not like I can take it back."
"You'd really do it. Give up everything."
"I don't think of it as everything everything, but for you? For what I believe we can have? I'd do it in a second." He smiled despite the resolve and the sudden pain in his heart. "Let's not talk about it anymore."
****
He walked her to the door of her posh house off Fisherman's Wharf several hours later, respecting the fact that both of them had to be at work the next morning. The next day, when everything would be normal again. After tonight, his chance would be over. He had to hope, standing there with her, that he had done his best. He honestly didn't know, and he wasn't sure he ever would.
"I had a really good time tonight, Jay," she said, her hand on his arm jolting him again. "Listen, I feel like I should..."
Jay put his finger to her lips, silencing her. "No, you don't have to. Do or don't, it's your choice. I'll wait."
"Jay, I can't lead you on like this."
"You're not leading me on." He nodded encouragingly. "I'll wait."
"How long?"
It was a question he had never considered. Jay's only answer was to lean over and brush his lips against hers. He hadn't kissed her since that first controversial kiss in her office months before. This one was different. It was still tender, but this time he wasn't running out to save the world. No, this was quiet, simple fondness communicated in one lingering contact. This time, he felt her start to kiss him back, but though it killed him, he was the one who stepped back before she did. Before she could say anything, he shot her one of his patented trademark grins, softer now in the darkness of the evening and the faint aura of her porch light.
"I'll wait as long as it takes."
Then he was gone, knowing she was watching him until the Impala pulled away. Also knowing she wouldn't see the small smile on his face. He only had one chance and he knew he'd done all he could. It was all up to fate now.
Fate, and Helena. |
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| Jay's Random Answer of the Week #64 |
[Feb. 13th, 2005|10:16 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  apathetic | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | West Coast Chillin' - Norman Brown | ] |
Have you ever regretted a wish you made?
I'm not much for wishing. Or, I am, but that's usually followed by acting, which wouldn't make it wishing, it would make it setting a goal and then achieving it. Yes, I'm splitting hairs, but the point is I don't sit on my ass and hope for things to come to me, I get out and make things happen for or because of me. I would never dare be anything but proactive if I ever wanted to kid myself that I was being a productive human being - possibly why those two words are so similar in etymology.
For about the space of five, maybe ten and a half minutes after I found out that Rick had let slip to Helena that I have a LiveJournal, I almost wished I'd never written all this crap down, given that it is the Internet, after all. But I sobered up on that one. You see, like I told her later, it's words and thoughts and feelings that deserve to be articulated. I need to sort myself out. I need to think on what's happening around me. I'm in too pivotal a position in the world and too crucial a phase in life to not stop and consider. And sometimes it's easier talking to people that you don't know in the flesh, because while you know someone's listening, you know they're not judging on anything cosmetic, and you know that if worse comes to worse, you'll probably never know them in person.
So I guess it's safe to say I regretted that one stupid, half-assed not-even-really-a-wish that I made that day. This is really how I feel. This is really what I think. I'm not going to apologize for any of that. If it hurt somebody, then yeah, I can apologize for that collateral damage, but not for having these thoughts and feelings - they are what they are. I won't lie to myself or anybody else. They know it now, and it's not like as if I would ever take any of this back, anyway. I am who I am, and nothing will change that. I'm not ashamed of who I am, or what I think, or what I feel. This is life. If I can face it, so can the rest of the world, if they try.
As a wise man once wrote: "Actions are immoral. Opinions are not. And I won't apologize for mine."
-Jay |
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| Because I'm that guy... |
[Feb. 11th, 2005|05:33 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  good | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | I Might - Norman Brown | ] |
... Although, if you were this curious, all you'd have to do is ask me.
Ask me a question about myself and I'll answer it honestly (is there any other way?)
Rick, you have to know I'm going to ignore any stupid question you pose.
Valentine's Day hits on Monday, and if you know me at all, you know I've got something up my sleeve. But telling you what it is would ruin the suspense. So wait till Monday and if she doesn't clock me, then I'll tell you. |
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| Scary monsters do exist, thank you very much. |
[Feb. 9th, 2005|11:40 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  scared | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Hey Jude - The Beatles | ] |
I just don't get scared by them often.
But whoa. Is it me, or did the woman in the opening scene of tonight's Alias look just like Helena? I mean the one who all of a sudden started seeing and hearing things like moments before she put a gun under her chin and blew her brains out.
I am normally very good at separating fiction from reality. I mean, come on, I'm a federal agent. I have to lie to people, and I have to be able to tell when people are making things up to me. Plus, I kinda like have this thing for shows that seem to be related to my line of work. See my brief stint as a fan of the remade Touching Evil for evidence. You'd think I'd be watching a comedy or something, but I haven't really found any I liked. Except for maybe Coupling.
The point is ... watching that actress kill herself? I saw Helena for just a second. And it terrified me. Man, I'm thinking about it right now and I'm still kinda shaken up. The infamous Jay Payton nerves of steel feel a lot like Jell-O at this particular moment. I know it's not real. I do. I keep chanting that to myself at the back of my head. I also know Helena has no reason to, nor would she dare, commit suicide. Something about weakness and dishonor. But yeah. None of that matters when you're thinking with your heart, not your head. Now I know how the L.A. guys have it so tough.
So I called her and feigned some stupid reason to hear her voice and ask if she was okay. Of course she was okay. She's Helena Travis. She'll pretend she's okay if the building's on fire, just because she's the leader and she thinks she's supposed to remain in control. Meanwhile, I have no qualms about losing my head. Seriously. I do it all the time. Well, not frequently, but not infrequently. With a certain degree of frequency, I am known to fly "off the handle."
Case in point, I guess. And on that note, I'm going to go grab a drink and attempt to sleep without having weird nightmares. I wouldn't bet against it, though on the plus side, maybe it'll scare the crap out of me and I'll get to work on time tomorrow.
Leave it to me to find a benefit in sheer mortal terror.
-Jay |
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| Jay's Random Answer of the Week #63 |
[Feb. 4th, 2005|11:10 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | hopeful | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | If You Want Me To - Ginny Owens | ] |
What does the word 'love' mean to me?
The timing of these questions sucks. Really, it sucks, if I can just say that before I get to answering this. And this one is way too much like the last one. Not like that was some grand and wonderful moment in my life either.
Anyway.
Love is looking at somebody across the room - somebody you've known for years as a friend - and seeing something you've never seen before. You don't know exactly why; you don't have to. Maybe it was a look in her eyes, maybe it was the angle of her head, maybe it was the words she chose. You don't know the why; but you know the what. It's a warmth that makes you smile, and you don't even know it's settled in your gut and taken up permanent residence, only that you feel better, stronger, more safe than all of before.
Love is looking in the mirror a long time later when your best friend holds it up and being strong enough to admit that you feel this and it is real and you are prepared to accept it. You know it's crazy, because she's above you and she has always been above you. You know it's wrong, because she's your boss and not only is it against the rules, but you know the horror story from L.A. about how the SAC slept with his ASAC and got burned. You know it's hopeless, because up until five months ago she was going to marry some guy you remember you didn't really like that much. But you bite the bullet anyway, and when another one of those random moments comes along, you kiss her because no word in your expansive vocabulary would ever do.
Love is fighting with the person you love over big things and little things, in stupid arguments and knock-down, drag-out verbal battles, and as angry as you get you never really mean what you say, and if you do, or if somebody gets hurt, you apologize and you own your mistakes. Somehow, no matter how many fights you get into, and there is always another fight, you are always as close as you have ever been. There's almost beauty in the breakdown, and the screaming, and the tirades, and the quoted Voltaire.
Love is saying it's okay when she's scared and she's hurt and she's confused, when she puts up her defenses and won't talk to you, when you're suddenly the last thing she wants or needs. When she tells you she doesn't know you and she's not sure she knows herself, you listen and you tell her it doesn't matter. You make a promise to give her space and time, and you give her the most space and time you can, even if it hurts you so bad that there are moments you just want to cry, and sometimes you do.
Love is having a gun pointed at you and not caring because you know she'll live on, and being able to say with that weapon aimed at your head that you know that she will and that you love her even in the face of that and all the other hell that's happened. When it's over, you worry about her first, and when you find out she's run scared again, a vulnerability she's never shown before, you track her down. You hold her while she cries and you don't say a word and you don't ask a question.
Love is still being here, months later, when nothing has changed, but you can still feel that feeling deep inside of you, still see what you saw that one fateful day that still seems to be the most important of your life. Love is waiting, and hoping, and maybe even praying a little, that love will find you, because you've found what it really means. Love is holding on. Love is waiting it out. Love is trusting yourself. Love is believing in her.
Love is what I have for Helena, and maybe someday, what we'll have together.
-Jay |
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ctu_chimera's journal