And now . . .
. . . me yelling at myself for a while.
Possibly cut for your enjoyment.
I stood in the garden and fought back tears. Tears of rage. Tears of fear. Tears of rejection. Why did it hurt so damn much?
I heard Lancelot before he said anything and stiffened. Gentry, he placed his hand comfortingly on my shoulder.
"What have you lost?" he asked softly.
"What?" I blinked at him, unknowingly annoyed at the question.
"Methos is married. But why are you crying? What have you really lost?" he prodded.
"Him." I replied to which he just laughed.
"Come ON, Michelle." he hugged me to soften the blow. "I love you, but please."
"What do you mean?" I hugged back more out of reflex then anything else.
"No matter who you guys are with. You do and do not belong to eachother. Love is never strictly romantic, nor plationic. You KNOW this more than anybody I know. 'Love transends. . .' and all that bullshit."
"Love doesn't ask." I sighe. " I do . . . And I hate that."
"What? What do you want? Hopeless devotion? Tactile, physical, manifest love? Where does that put me? Or any of the rest of your friends?" he had the audacity to be annoyed. "Pretty cheap, Michelle."
"Our current is so . . . unyeilding, Lancelot. You know that."
"So, what if Methos chooses to share himself with another for a while? Does that current change between you two? Do you love each other any less?"
"Well . . . no . . . BUT--"
"But you're scared of loosing him when he's not even rightfully yours? You don't own actions, Michelle. Just the moments you have had together."
"I know, OK, Lancelot? I KNOW that." I blew up.
"Then know it HERE." he pounded my chest. "Our moments. Your moments. They're what we call have together. Nothing more or less. Either they alone will keep you warm at night or you can cry for the moments that were never yours to begin with."
"I love him, Lancelot. God help me, I would choose every moment with him."
"That's not your choice, Michelle. Worry about that which is."
"The science of moments, Lancelot, is largely that of bittersweetness."
"Doesn't have to be, Michelle. Hold those moments of joy and purity dear to your heart but find utter madness in trying to desperately create or feeling bad when they may be coming to an end."
"So, I should just be happy for what I do have? Nice was of saying 'suck it up' Jackass." I spat at him.
"You have years ahead of you. Many moments to come. It is all part of you building the scrapbook of your mind. Those specal moments that you hold dear and are truly yours that you can revel in. So he's married to someone else and it is not your time together. So the fuck what? Is he so intrinsic to you that you cannot be complete without him?"
"No. That's just stupid."
"So? Remember to take the time you DO have with him. Don't waste time trying to love him less. Accept the gift of his time when it's proffered and be happy for him when he finds joy."
"Let him pass through me? Like everybody else? Dammit, Lancelot, I get so tired of good-byes."
"But that's who you are, Michelle. People pass through you and are the better for it. And YOU love it. To look at me and say you don't is a damned lie and you know it."
"I need to have this talk with somebody who doesn't know me so damn well." he laughed at that.
"You are Michelle. Who you are is amazing. Remember that even when you don't want to."
"Pass through me and find joy. Find life. I am an expression of passion and movement. The moments I have with people are dear. But that's all they are. Brief moments and snapshots that I take with me. Their actins are inconsequential. Whether they continue to chooes me or not it is only how I feel that matters. Rejection is a worthless feeling because it operates off the idea that they can take those moments back. Jealousy, too, is worthless. What he has given me he cannot take back and I can treasure it and smile or I can worry that I'll never have another. Which is equally stupid because he's not dropping off the face of the planet. Simply choosing to share some moments with someone else."
"In essance, you're being dumb and mourning the loss of nothing."
"Apparently." I sighed heavily. "God, why was I born such a whiney little girl?"
"We all have our moments." he smirked at me. "Get over them and let's go join the reception party."
"Oh, do let's." I smiled and, hand in hand, we went forth.
Possibly cut for your enjoyment.
I stood in the garden and fought back tears. Tears of rage. Tears of fear. Tears of rejection. Why did it hurt so damn much?
I heard Lancelot before he said anything and stiffened. Gentry, he placed his hand comfortingly on my shoulder.
"What have you lost?" he asked softly.
"What?" I blinked at him, unknowingly annoyed at the question.
"Methos is married. But why are you crying? What have you really lost?" he prodded.
"Him." I replied to which he just laughed.
"Come ON, Michelle." he hugged me to soften the blow. "I love you, but please."
"What do you mean?" I hugged back more out of reflex then anything else.
"No matter who you guys are with. You do and do not belong to eachother. Love is never strictly romantic, nor plationic. You KNOW this more than anybody I know. 'Love transends. . .' and all that bullshit."
"Love doesn't ask." I sighe. " I do . . . And I hate that."
"What? What do you want? Hopeless devotion? Tactile, physical, manifest love? Where does that put me? Or any of the rest of your friends?" he had the audacity to be annoyed. "Pretty cheap, Michelle."
"Our current is so . . . unyeilding, Lancelot. You know that."
"So, what if Methos chooses to share himself with another for a while? Does that current change between you two? Do you love each other any less?"
"Well . . . no . . . BUT--"
"But you're scared of loosing him when he's not even rightfully yours? You don't own actions, Michelle. Just the moments you have had together."
"I know, OK, Lancelot? I KNOW that." I blew up.
"Then know it HERE." he pounded my chest. "Our moments. Your moments. They're what we call have together. Nothing more or less. Either they alone will keep you warm at night or you can cry for the moments that were never yours to begin with."
"I love him, Lancelot. God help me, I would choose every moment with him."
"That's not your choice, Michelle. Worry about that which is."
"The science of moments, Lancelot, is largely that of bittersweetness."
"Doesn't have to be, Michelle. Hold those moments of joy and purity dear to your heart but find utter madness in trying to desperately create or feeling bad when they may be coming to an end."
"So, I should just be happy for what I do have? Nice was of saying 'suck it up' Jackass." I spat at him.
"You have years ahead of you. Many moments to come. It is all part of you building the scrapbook of your mind. Those specal moments that you hold dear and are truly yours that you can revel in. So he's married to someone else and it is not your time together. So the fuck what? Is he so intrinsic to you that you cannot be complete without him?"
"No. That's just stupid."
"So? Remember to take the time you DO have with him. Don't waste time trying to love him less. Accept the gift of his time when it's proffered and be happy for him when he finds joy."
"Let him pass through me? Like everybody else? Dammit, Lancelot, I get so tired of good-byes."
"But that's who you are, Michelle. People pass through you and are the better for it. And YOU love it. To look at me and say you don't is a damned lie and you know it."
"I need to have this talk with somebody who doesn't know me so damn well." he laughed at that.
"You are Michelle. Who you are is amazing. Remember that even when you don't want to."
"Pass through me and find joy. Find life. I am an expression of passion and movement. The moments I have with people are dear. But that's all they are. Brief moments and snapshots that I take with me. Their actins are inconsequential. Whether they continue to chooes me or not it is only how I feel that matters. Rejection is a worthless feeling because it operates off the idea that they can take those moments back. Jealousy, too, is worthless. What he has given me he cannot take back and I can treasure it and smile or I can worry that I'll never have another. Which is equally stupid because he's not dropping off the face of the planet. Simply choosing to share some moments with someone else."
"In essance, you're being dumb and mourning the loss of nothing."
"Apparently." I sighed heavily. "God, why was I born such a whiney little girl?"
"We all have our moments." he smirked at me. "Get over them and let's go join the reception party."
"Oh, do let's." I smiled and, hand in hand, we went forth.