Title: Deceit to Secrecy Confin'd
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica (TV Show)
Characters: Laura Roslin/Bill Adama, Tom Zarek, Saul Tigh, Richard Adar, Lee Adama, Gaius Baltar, Billy Keikeya
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst, Romance
Summary: He tricked you and stabbed you from behind and you didn’t see it coming...Everyone betrays you eventually, but Laura's learnt who to forgive. These are her thoughts on the men in her life.
Length: 6,600+ words
Status: Complete
Spoilers: Spoilers all the way through the Mini-Series to Deadlock.
Deceit to Secrecy Confin’d
Tom.
You forgave him. You forgave him so much so many times, because you thought you should. Because you couldn’t hold on to the anger without falling into it completely. Because you needed him. You forgave him and let him stand by your side; better there than against you.
You’ve stood against him so often you wonder why you still never saw it coming. It’s so obvious now. Has been since Lee and Kara, since the communications black-out. Since his voice told you Bill was dead. Lied to you. Tore you apart.
You leant against him when the revelations of Earth got too heavy for you to bear. When suicide seemed so much easier when all you had to do was stop. Stop the treatment. Stop caring. Stop hurting. You leant on Lee and you leant on him and now you have to live with the knowledge that you gave him a way in. Oh, you have no doubt now that he would have found some way eventually, even if you had stayed standing. If you hadn’t bowed to the pain for just a moment. Just once. Please just once. And if it wasn’t for the bloodshed, the pointless death, you might even have been thankful for the weakness that revealed his true colours to everyone. But there was so many; the number on your board shrinking ever smaller and you want it to stop. Just stop. There are eleven there that you’ll now never see again as more than numbers and no matter how they grumbled and complained, no matter how often you told Bill to airlock them all, you miss them. But they died as heroes, they died as your government. Loyal to you when he thought he had won them with a smile and a twist of his lies. He massacred them, but worse, he brought others in to do it for him. Blooded more hands while his own stayed so white. They died and it was all for you. The others; they fought for their freedom, for their lives. But the Quorum; they never believed in the trust of the Cylons. They believed in you and he killed them.
You want to hate him for that most of all. For killing them in your name. For making them martyrs to a broken President. A failed prophet. A dying leader. But you don’t. Oh, you hate him for that. And for the guards you know never turned from you, but were nowhere to be found when Lee and Kara came. You hate him for all of that pain and death. The complete futility of mutiny doubled. But that’s not the worst that he’s done to you. Not the only actions he’s taken that tell you he has to go. Must end.
Bill wants you to be there. Wants you to have the closure you know will never come from more death. You don’t want him alive, don’t want to face knowing that it has all happened before and will happen again. It needs to be over. Finished. Dead. But you can’t watch. You can’t pull the trigger or press the switch. You can’t tell any of them to be your murderers, so you don’t. You haven’t. And he will still die, no longer a savior. More of a footnote than he intended. All the good he managed will never be heard. Not now, and you could make it different. You could try to change their minds; your people. He’ll be dead and won’t care and they will forget him. In time. No one wants to remember the pain. It never stops. But you could make them remember. Insist in celebrating those little things, the time he saved you all, stood up to Baltar. You could remind them every time they come to you without his name on their lips. But the Quorum consists of one. And you will always remember that.
You know he loved you for a time; New Caprica. Just after. He probably still does because he wanted Bill dead but they never came for you. They should have. Your guards were gone, but they never came in. You know he ordered Bill’s death so many times, but it wasn’t his voice that ordered yours. He loves you and sometimes you used to think you could have loved him too. Given time. If not for Bill. If not for you. He was everything you never looked for but always found. He was danger and secrecy. He was betrayal and protection. He would have kept you guessing. Kept you fighting for your own worth. You could have hated and loved him and never had to choose. But he split your fleet in more than two. He forced you from your home and put guns in your people’s hands. He turned them against themselves. He told you Bill was dead and made you live through the pain. He thought you’d surrender. Give up. Give in. And you would have, but you thought he’d killed Bill. And even though he didn’t. Even though you won the Cylons’ awe with your anger. Even though you’re back and your people slowly healing. He told you Bill was dead and you’ll never forgive him for that.
Saul.
When you met him it wasn’t the best time for first impressions. But they stick and his stuck and so did yours. You were in his way and you wanted his time. His patience. His respect. You got nothing but contempt and if you ever made friends quickly you make enemies faster. And he was in the way of everything you needed and you are so very good at fighting. You know Lee saved you from more mistakes; he isn’t a man to take orders from schoolteachers. You know that no matter what came after it was as hard for him to shake off that view as it was for you to see past the sneer. But when he calls you a schoolteacher all over again. When he calls you a collaborator and you can still feel the cold stone on your skin. You strike and just for a moment it feels good. Right. Like justice.
But it’s not and you know that sorry isn’t enough. He throws it all back but it doesn’t matter because he snapped your control and you didn’t know you were that close to breaking. He came to you when he didn’t have to; you are just Laura. Ms Roslin. Ma’am. But he came to you and he made you feel like you used to when you had a purpose. When you were needed for more than your red pen and chalk. He gave you something to focus on that wasn’t Bill. Bill. Bill. And you grasped it with both hands, and teeth and nails. Gods, you knew it would be bad; you’d been taken once already by then. But he’s picking men and women. He’s strapping bombs to their stomachs and righteousness to their souls and you never saw that coming.
You trusted him with the men and women that will always be your people. He swore they would be free from the Cylons. From Baltar. From pain. You thought they’d still be alive at the end of it. Freedom doesn’t count if you’re dead. He crossed a line and how could you know when the grey walls kept you hidden. He made you weak in front of Baltar because you didn’t know and you couldn’t condone. He sits here and tells you he’s been doing this over and over and that’s not a reason that’s ever been enough for you. You think of Richard and the teachers and you know it’s no comparison. Not really. The Cylons can’t be trusted and no matter how much you hate it, talking things out won’t work this time. But it’s just the same because he’s looking for a fight that he can’t find without flames and he’s burning your colonies with his pain. Your pain. Their pain. And just because it’s hard doesn’t make it right. Doesn’t make it true or just. Doesn’t make you happy or proud or anything else that you know he wants from you. And it hurts you as much as the faces of the nameless dead because you want to give him everything he needs from you. He makes you feel needed and useful and he held your hand when Cottle fixed your arm.
You owe him and you know it. But you can’t give him this, not for that. You don’t pretend to know war; what you know you’ve been learning without consent. But people are dying to stop people from dying and they’re all your people even if you’re not their President and there’s so many things wrong with that and he must be able to see. To hate. You don’t blame him; or you do but it isn’t his fault. Or it is but he isn’t the same. He’s lost more on the outside than you would let them see and maybe revenge is better cold but the passion ignites better hot. And how can you stop him when you want to give him your support, so fully? When you want this all to be over to be home and moving on and away. Just away. How can you stop him when you’re just a schoolteacher and he’s just a man carved of war?
You don’t believe in the truths that he tells you and you’re sure there’s a whiter way if only you had time and peace. And space enough to think it. But you don’t and he’s so determined and without the title you’re too easily ignored. You won’t tell him he’s right. You won’t help him pick out the next. And you’ll beg him to stop until your throat bleeds hoarse. But you’ll give him your trust because he has Bill’s and when you’re safe and home and he’s the reason you’re there, you’ll try to forgive him for helping to make your black ink numbers a little bit lower and your soul a little bit smaller.
Richard.
He wasn’t married when you met him. He wasn’t married or the President. He wasn’t even in office and you think that’s where the trouble began. Where you started to lose him; one piece at a time. It didn’t feel like losing. How could it? You had him beside you, behind you, beneath you, above you. He was yours and maybe you were his. Except. It wasn’t really like that, because he owned you and you only had a little part. But you couldn’t have known, not at the time. Because she was just his secretary and you were just his.
And maybe you didn’t go out as often as you used to. But he had a public to keep happy and you were caught between politics and school reports; you didn’t have time to eat dinner where everyone could see. Or take walks on the beach. Or hold hands in the rain. You were already far from the girl with forever in her eyes and you’d seen death enough times to never set a plan. You lived for now. Then.
She was just his secretary. A friend. Someone to shake everything up a little; it was getting a bit bland, you just didn’t have time to find someone yourself. She was just a trophy on his arm because you were a schoolteacher and part of his administration and she didn’t work anymore. She was just another lover in a long line that still began with you. Would always begin with you because you were his and he loved you. She was just a woman in white and that was just a temple to the Gods and they were just words and oaths and you knew because he took you in the back room while she smiled at their guests.
Except. She was his wife and you weren’t and when you socialized you were suddenly out of place without his arm around your waist and his breath in your ear. And she was having his children while you wrote up his laws and the whispers of love were less than they were. That’s when you knew. When you knew who you were and you should have stopped when you realised but he still made you feel good. When he didn’t make you feel bad. When you let yourself feel at all.
It wasn’t love, it was danger. And he owned you more every time you came back, eyes open heart closed. But you let him take you over and fill you up where he left you empty each night. You were still first in line only she wasn’t a lover, she was a wife so she didn’t count in your list and you had him first. But life doesn’t work like a playground and even children learn their lessons with time and maybe it took you longer than most because you loved him. Or maybe you just wished that you could. That you would if you clung on a bit longer.
But you were pulling apart as you pushed him away and you like to think you would have made it work this time. Would have stayed away from his office. His life. His bed. But they diagnosed you with death while you blew out his candle and he severed your ties without blinking an eye. You stood tall as you trembled and you took up his post and you vowed to be different. You gave your heart to the people you forced them to save.
He’s gone and you aren’t which shows a penchant for irony you and the Gods do not share and you’re certain you should be hurting more than you are. Should be screaming and crying for his arms and his lips. His skin and his voice. But all you can think is that he’s not here alone, not facing the end of the worlds without his wife. His sons. And you hope it was quick and painless because he still deserved that. Didn’t deserve to pay for your sins, both your sins. You share the blame for the way your lives turned. He knew you would follow and you knew you shouldn’t stay and neither of you tried to stop it until it was far too late.
But this wasn’t love, you’re certain because it doesn’t hurt like you’re sure that it should. You miss him because he was such a shadow in your life for so long a time and now he’s a shadow of the past and you’re moving the fleet on. Keeping them alive and while you can still claim the same you can’t look back; can’t pretend it was more than it was any longer. He was just a man, you were just a woman too used to schedules and routines to notice when the timetable changed. He left you behind while he dragged you along and it’s too easy to feel angry but he’s dead and ghosts don’t need to feel guilt. You look up from your desk at what’s left of his worlds and you wonder if it wasn’t love in the end. Wasn’t something close but just a little away that he pushed hard between you when the people should have come first. You make a promise to Billy in the silence of his sleep because he’s the future of your people and you owe Billy for what you can’t give back to the wife. You make an oath you will keep until the last of your breaths and you forgive him for making a choice away from you and you hope that sometime you’ll be forgiven for the same.
Lee.
There was a time you thought you’d never forgive him. Or maybe you did know, even then that he would break you down. But you would never forget what he forced you to do. To say. To face. Except you have with each laugh with his Father and each smile at his success. You’ve forgiven and forgotten because he’s part of a family you need and maybe he needs more than he knows.
But if you try too hard, if you think for too long you’re back there in that courtroom of matchsticks and tape and you’re waiting for the blow you didn’t expect. Not for Baltar. Not from him. And it’s the smugness in his eyes, the belief that he is right and you can only be wrong. And you could have kissed Bill for drawing it out. Or killed him for making them want to hear. You’re a good politician because you can read between the eyes and you’re a good leader because you won’t let them pull you down. But you begged him not to ask you and you still wonder if he knows what that means. What you lowered yourself to do just to make him stop. Stop. Gods don’t make me. If you weren’t sitting already you would have knelt. You weren’t ready for where it would go and knowing what he wanted and why couldn’t take that away.
It was too early, too new and you would have told them all, this time. Would have had no choice when you decided to fight and not slide. But he took that away, and maybe you’re still a little more angry than you actually knew. And it would be so easy to learn to hate him, to force your anger for everything firmly at his feet. But he’s as much your family now as Bill, and when you let one in you let them all. And you know he never meant for it to get so far, tears in his eyes as you told them your pain. You know he would have told you first before he called you up on that stand. Podium. Alter. Would have given you time, not much, to prepare. It would have been enough. Is enough, just the thought, to make you smile at him when he needs it. Deserves it. To not curse him when you see pain and pity in their eyes when you leave the wig off and the scarf on. To not grind your teeth when he shows you who will finally take Billy’s place in your mind as the President next. Because you’re proud of him, have been since he saved your life twice over and followed your commands above his Father’s when he knew you were right. Since he learnt to put his principles before his popularity and your people above his life.
And even though you know he’ll learn quickly and the desire for justice absolute will eventually fade. You hope he keeps fighting against the pleas for him to stop. Because he was right in his innocence about things in the grey. And he will begin to see them as something more than what they are. And when he finally chooses the wrong choice because it’s the only way to make it right, you hope you’re there in the shadows watching without pointing. Because then he’ll be the President to lead your people wherever they go. And he’ll be able to forgive not because a law tells him; he’ll know because it’s right or it’s wrong and it’s all he can do when the cards fall in his hand.
He’s still your Captain, who saves you when saving yourself seems all wrong and he still knows you better than he thinks and you like. And you’re not keeping a list of the things that he’s done that hurt, but if you did it would be almost as long as your own, because you remember him telling you how you let him down when all you wanted was to keep death off your ship. And if he loves you a little it’s really no more than you deserve, and it’s the affection to a woman who would have been his mother if the Gods were less cruel. When you took up that mantle with Bill at your side, you never intended to think of a few as your children when they all should have been. But you think of your future and the look on his face and you know you’ll do anything to take the regret away. And if some of you shies away from his eyes, it’s the weakest of parts and you shut it away. You look at him fully and wait for Bill to return and you promise yourself you’ll teach him again. Because the heart and soul of the leader is the key to survival and you don’t want him to learn it the way that you have. You know that he understands with the tilt of your head and the pride in your eyes that you’ve forgiven his sins; of truth. Of principle. Of misguidence. He looks like you’ve given him Earth and you almost laugh because between you, you have.
And when it falls apart and everything comes crashing down. Down. Down. You let go for a while because he’s there and you trust him when you can’t trust yourself.
Gaius.
You hate him. Of course you do. How could you not? He stands, kneels, sits, lays; a model made in clay to all that has gone wrong. Everything you’ve paid for over and over and over. So you hate him. Except you don’t.
You want to, Gods do you want to. And it should be easy, should be simple and good and feel like maybe it’s enough now. But it doesn’t and you don’t and it isn’t and it’s not.
He’s selfish and arrogant and genius enough to know better. He does but doesn’t care. He started everything, one look and sex and love hidden somewhere it shouldn’t be and the worlds collapsed around him and he lived. But you know if it hadn’t been him it would have been another. If he hadn’t been easier. If he hadn’t proven oh so good for their plans. Would have been Richard if you hadn’t been running the government from the President’s bed. Desk. Wall. He saved his own life and joined your fleet and you trusted him while you didn’t and you would have left him their leader when you died. Only you didn’t. Did, nearly. Will.
He had a second chance; make it all right, keep them safe. But he brought that down and the scars you still hide tell the tales of his failure. Saul’s eye and Gods, Maya.
He abandoned them with his life and that’s not something you could have ever done. But you have. He made the dying leader live. You should hate him for that alone, but you don’t. Because there’s Bill and you love living to love.
And maybe you can put the people above yourself and perhaps they don’t need your hate, they have their own. Most. But he’s taken everything away from you without a sigh of regret and it’s taken you weeks, months, years, forever to get back just some you hold dear. Days, not even days; hours, minutes, words spewed with genius and false grace and your sand-castles toppled to the swell of his lies.
And that’s only a little of why he deserves your hate. That’s only the front of the temple, the entrance to your tomb. He started with the Colonies, he took your friends, your home. Your worlds. He never apologises, never says he is wrong which is a good politician and makes you remember another he took away too. He took away your fleet. Your people. Your reason to stay and not go. He tricked you and stabbed you from behind and you didn’t see it coming. But Billy would have and you cursed him for reminding you of that truth. You could blame the people, but you knew they were weakening and Earth wasn’t food enough for hope anymore. Not then. He took away Maya, and Saul’s hope. He took Ellen’s fight and Kara’s not been the same for too long. He made you agree to things you hated and tore more holes in your soul than you know how to mend. He took the happiness you were finding with red dresses, stars and songs in your ear. With an Admiral retiring and a cabin by a glass stream.
And then he was gone and you were home and you know that’s something new because you never believed in homes so fully before. But you were home and where the Gods told you to be and your family was rebuilding. Closer to you but drifting across the gulf of terrorism and retreat. But it was mending and you could see the cracks in the darkness start to slip back into place.
You should have known, should have stopped and thought. Should have guessed your laughter couldn’t last. It never has. But you didn’t see it coming and his voice shattered chasms across your heart. You wanted justice, wanted peace and you thought they could be trusted. Not everyone; lesson learnt. But Lee. Bill.
He sat there, high on his altar of moral shame and you felt yours crumble with the pleas that passed your lips. You would have begged him to stand in Lee’s place. You wanted to hate him, not your Captain Apollo, but he grimaced when you rallied and reflected early what Lee’s eyes shared late. He would be guilty and made to pay and that kept you upright until he wasn’t. Your name was on his death list and it doesn’t matter that he may have loved you a little, that once he wanted you in his party for one. Because he signed the price on your head and Bill said it was okay. Not guilty is not innocent is not enough to justify the story of your lives. And he’s weakened you past the point of safe return. One more hit and you’ll break into petals on the bed. And maybe that’s all you’ll be good for, the body behind the power, as it all fades to bones. He brought you here with every thorn added to the crown on your head.
And you thought you could hate him. Now. With the first wound he’s suffered that just might take him away. But you push your fingers into the ripples and send the specter of death away one more time. And you can tell them it’s the only way to find Earth, you can tell yourself Elosha knows best. But you lay with your head against his side, on your knees begging him to live and you know you would have saved him in the end. It isn’t love, because you gave that away so long ago it’s taken you this long to remember where it is, but it’s not hate either. Maybe you need an enemy you know. Maybe a living testament to the choices you could have made and didn’t. Won’t. Not like that. Maybe you’ve forgiven him for the sins he won’t repent because you’re so tired of hating and fighting and there are so few of you left.
Or maybe this is the last piece of your soul you won’t let him sell. The last of who you are and were and want so desperately to be for ever. The piece that Bill loves, that lets you love him back. That sees hope in the black of night and faith in the twists of Cylon stars. The piece that keeps you more human than any shared blood can take away and you won’t let him take that away from you. Even if it keeps him alive and free you wont. Not now. Not ever.
Billy.
He told you on the planet that he wasn’t asking for your forgiveness, but in your office he looks at the floor and you know he wants it anyway. You know he wants it and won’t ask and that your words unasked for haven’t made it past his guilt. He feels guilt for the choice he had to make and you are more proud of him than you can ever say.
It wasn’t ideal, and maybe he could have found a better time to pick his principles but he helped you leave the cell and he followed you all the way until he couldn’t. He kept you strong when you were anything but, and he told you with careful words that your dreams were just that and cells are brigs in Galactica and the worlds ended with the lawyers on them.
He didn’t agree with what you’ve done, and he probably still doesn’t even though he’s seen everything that you have and he came back to you with the Commander. With Bill. You don’t agree with your decisions because you split them all up and you’ll never forget that, not when his words as you left dug that hole in your heart.
He thinks you don’t listen to him, that he’s just your assistant and not your advisor like Lee. But he’s far more to you than you’ll probably ever tell and you’ll hear him until your ears hurt and your mind has been changed. You’ll let his innocence and his faith in your people, in you, surround you and seep into everything you’ve always thought you knew. He has fresh eyes and youth and the power that comes from life and time. He has everything you need to let him build the future and you’ll see to it that he’s there at the end, leading with everything you’ll teach him and everything you’ll never have to. When you go, he’ll hold the fleet in his safe hands and that’s how it should be.
It doesn’t matter that Baltar is your Vice-President, somehow you’ll make sure he takes your place. He’s grown since you met him, sharp-eyed and oh so young. So new and bright and just begging for approval. Eyes taking in everything you didn’t say until he showed he knew you more than you ever hoped.
He’s the one you lean on when everything is just a little too much. When the bad days come and you could hide them from everyone but never from him. Not for long. He’s the one you missed most, in the rain and the blood soaked grass of that planet. Because everyone knows now and Lee made sure you were warm and safe but he would have held your hand at Elosha’s memorial and asked you over and over if you really should keep going. If maybe you should take a break. If you had lost your mind, just rest. He would have told you that yes, you were wrong, but it was too late now to regret, and you had to make it to the tomb and prove that everyone else was wrong too.
The truth is, you forgave him the moment the words left his lips, and the harshness of your exit only hid the pain he had caused because you wouldn’t let him see. Wouldn’t hurt him too. Couldn’t. That wouldn’t be right. You turned away from him and suddenly knew what Bill goes through each time Lee stands on the other side and swore to fix that tear first before fixing yours. You forgave him when you saw how hard he had to fight to stand his ground, how his voice shook and called out for your approval even as he stayed behind.
He’s been your constant companion from the moment the worlds trembled and fell and the connection you have won’t fade over the time left to you. You’re so proud of him and can’t believe that his Mother could have been any less. You’re proud of him and you love him and he’s not the first to enter your heart but he’s the only one to have dug himself in so deep and stuck. And leaving him when you have to is something that has kept you fighting even as the prophecies make you want to stop.
You look at him now, head still bowed and arms hanging and decide that no one can see you. No one will know that even you have your preferences and emotions and he has both. No one will know that watching Bill hold Lee had pulled at your heart wishing your son-by-choice were there too. That seeing him healthy and whole and there had made you curse your position because all you could think was that he was there and he’d come back and you wanted to pull him into your arms and make him see how much you’d missed him. But you are the President and he is your assistant and you have roles to play and masks to wear that don’t allow for such public shows. Except, you’re alone now and you’re no less happy to see him. Haven’t missed him any less for having him close again. It’s easy and he folds into you and if there are tears in your eyes than his are slipping into your shirt. Into his ear you tell him that it’s okay and don’t worry and that you’re so glad he’s here. You let him know he’s forgiven for a betrayal you never felt and you promise to never make him choose again. You promise not to make any of the children in your fleet choose again. You tell him that and he smiles and for just a moment the now constant pain in your chest disappears.
Bill.
You tell him you love him. You say it when you can and don’t count because you know the number would make you blush. You tell him you love him and he says it back just sometimes, more now but you don’t think about that because it speaks of the end. You tell him you love him and he has something to say back that makes you laugh or cry or grab him and crush him against any surface you can find.
Every time you say it you remember when you swore you wouldn’t. When it was the last thing you felt and the first you denied. When it gave him more power to hurt you and you could still pretend that the words made a difference. That naming it would make it more than it was.
You make yourself remember when you hated him, just a little. For making you feel like a student, for switching your roles and teaching you when you had given up on learning anything new. But the awe slipped in and you can’t stop yourself remembering that too. His speech made you clap first and you heard the pain in the truth and perhaps you didn’t hate him after all.
You force yourself to think about Kobol and the Galactica’s brig and the look on his face as he silently marched you inside. You think about the pain and the fear and almost manage to blame him until you see his face pale and lined with pain and know he would never have let it come that far if he hadn’t fallen. If everything he believed hadn’t been called in to question too. And you remember him coming after you and forgiving you when you wouldn’t have asked. Making you laugh when you had been so close to tears. Letting you know he knew when he kept you standing and let you scream into his arm when the pain shot through a little too hard. Calling you Laura when the only one who did was gone.
You’d think about Billy and the hostage taking but that might really work for a while and maybe you aren’t as committed to this as you probably should be.
You try thinking about the election and New Caprica and how you let him change your mind. Let him force you to doubt your own strength, put yourself ahead of your people. But for the darkness that wrought he was right. Always right. It would have killed you and you know so well now that a dead leader is no better than a mad one. And it gave you time. Just a little. To be Laura again, only different. The one you left behind at your mother’s bedside who enjoyed life and didn’t think that tomorrow might never rise. The one who lived for today just because you could, not because you had to and who let him get closer than he should because you were free and didn’t care. And against every odd you were still alive. So was he.
So you think about Hera and the trial and how he still won’t let you explain and you think his excuses weak. How you know you were right just as much as you were wrong and that he hasn’t forgiven you when you actually need that. How much you hate that. You think about how Baltar still lives and your name on a death list and his vote going against you. But you see the pain in his eyes as he told you his reasons and the times that have come when maybe Baltar was more useful alive than dead. And the touch of his hand against your neck when you still had hair for him to hold back.
You skip over Earth because that wasn’t his fault and you really don’t think about it when you have the choice. You jump the part where he grabbed your arm and stopped you running because he let you go again and caught you up. He brought you home and made you whole and said he’d keep you steady when you were anything but. And he makes you feel beautiful and alive. So very alive.
Which brings you back to your start and why you lie beside him and try to hate him. Try to make it seem like he’s betrayed you over and over, because then it would be easy to leave him. To stand up and walk away from him now before you can’t. Before it becomes impossible to do anything but hold his hand and scream. If you hate him, you can leave him and it won’t hurt worse than the cancer that’s eating away at you bit by bit. Because he made you love him without even trying. And he made you say it over and over and still the words aren’t meaningless. And he makes you want to live. Through it all, after everything that’s happened and everything that you made yourself accept, he makes you want to fight what you can’t. He makes you want to beat the death that was foretold in prophecy you don’t believe in any longer. The one that’s been inevitable since you decided to live for as long as you could as the woman you are with the man that you love and not as a shell that would kill you both. Except this is and you are and the Gods have always been cruel but this is worse than killing you twice. Because you love him and he loves you and without him you’re not complete and the truth in his eyes when he looks at you tells you he won’t be after. But no matter how you try to hate him, try to scare yourself away from his heart. You can’t do it, it’s not enough. He made you love him and love you in return and for that, for killing himself without knowing, you’ll never forgive him. But you don’t have to. You love him and for right now, that will be enough.
Fini
Please let me know what you think...I have New-Caprican herbs...