Fic: Present Tense - EO
Depression is a bitch. Enjoy teh angsssst
Disclaimer: Fictional story about fictional characters I do not own.
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She is not the type of person to dwell on the future.
She thinks too much about her past, and tries to dissect much of it in small bits and pieces. The process has defined her throughout her entire life. Take a moment; visualize the circumstances; weigh the consequences; make a decision.
Her job focuses on the past. The only time she thinks two steps ahead is when she is tracking a suspect.
She doesn’t take time from herself to imagine herself in a month, a year. Anything further away than Friday hinders her Today.
Before she knows it, she’s approaching 40, and still childless, barren. Empty. So she tries. She imagines baby names and checks her income and looks for schools. She enters children’s clothing stores and practices holding a sack of flour and sits on benches near playgrounds. She watches and watches the children laugh and play and fall and be free.
When she is turned down at the agency, she cries. Only once. Then she goes back to analyzing the past.
She is not a dreamer. She will never have a husband and a family to call her own. She will always be married to her job. The victims will be her offspring. She becomes cynical.
In her quiet moments, she tries to distract herself from the reality that is her life.
She retreats into the bottle now and again, and sometimes she finds warmth with it’s temporary burn. She often finds solace in another lonely soul, and for a night, they are not alone.
When she comes, the only future she imagines is when she leaves his apartment.
She’s quite good at thinking on her feet and managing complex situations. She can talk down a jumper, or a gun-wielding perp, and can convince an abused child that she is safe.
Her partner is the closest thing to a husband, a lover, a friend, a brother, that she has and will ever know. She used to find herself lost in his tomorrows, in his weekend plans with his kids and their sleep away camps in the summer. She finds comfort in hearing about his children’s choices for college, and majors and life-plans.
Part of her thinks she’ll never see them through.
The day he comes to her and finally tells her what she’s known for years, she is so jaded that she doesn’t even care.
“Olivia, I’m telling you that I want to be with you. I’m in love with you, doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
She doesn’t pine. She doesn’t long. Most times she doesn’t even feel. She has become numb with the constant. Disappointment, waiting, uncertainty. The only emotion she has left is empathy.
“I’m sorry, Elliot, it doesn’t. It’s too late.”
She doesn’t think about the future. When he leaves, she remains stoic. He has hurt her too much, however unintentional, for her to chase after him anymore. She is the job. Nothing else.
She believes she likes the status quo.
~
Disclaimer: Fictional story about fictional characters I do not own.
____________________________________________
She is not the type of person to dwell on the future.
She thinks too much about her past, and tries to dissect much of it in small bits and pieces. The process has defined her throughout her entire life. Take a moment; visualize the circumstances; weigh the consequences; make a decision.
Her job focuses on the past. The only time she thinks two steps ahead is when she is tracking a suspect.
She doesn’t take time from herself to imagine herself in a month, a year. Anything further away than Friday hinders her Today.
Before she knows it, she’s approaching 40, and still childless, barren. Empty. So she tries. She imagines baby names and checks her income and looks for schools. She enters children’s clothing stores and practices holding a sack of flour and sits on benches near playgrounds. She watches and watches the children laugh and play and fall and be free.
When she is turned down at the agency, she cries. Only once. Then she goes back to analyzing the past.
She is not a dreamer. She will never have a husband and a family to call her own. She will always be married to her job. The victims will be her offspring. She becomes cynical.
In her quiet moments, she tries to distract herself from the reality that is her life.
She retreats into the bottle now and again, and sometimes she finds warmth with it’s temporary burn. She often finds solace in another lonely soul, and for a night, they are not alone.
When she comes, the only future she imagines is when she leaves his apartment.
She’s quite good at thinking on her feet and managing complex situations. She can talk down a jumper, or a gun-wielding perp, and can convince an abused child that she is safe.
Her partner is the closest thing to a husband, a lover, a friend, a brother, that she has and will ever know. She used to find herself lost in his tomorrows, in his weekend plans with his kids and their sleep away camps in the summer. She finds comfort in hearing about his children’s choices for college, and majors and life-plans.
Part of her thinks she’ll never see them through.
The day he comes to her and finally tells her what she’s known for years, she is so jaded that she doesn’t even care.
“Olivia, I’m telling you that I want to be with you. I’m in love with you, doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
She doesn’t pine. She doesn’t long. Most times she doesn’t even feel. She has become numb with the constant. Disappointment, waiting, uncertainty. The only emotion she has left is empathy.
“I’m sorry, Elliot, it doesn’t. It’s too late.”
She doesn’t think about the future. When he leaves, she remains stoic. He has hurt her too much, however unintentional, for her to chase after him anymore. She is the job. Nothing else.
She believes she likes the status quo.
~