If I Stay Here Without You

Posted on Fri 31st Jan, 2025 @ 1:05am by Lieutenant Damion Ildaran
Edited on Fri 31st Jan, 2025 @ 2:30am

432 words; about a 2 minute read

I need to do some thinking.

I was walking through the Promenade this evening because I'd bought some new seeds for my hydroponics garden, and this godawful song started playing over the PA system. It was an old Earth song, very peppy and upbeat, and I wasn't really in the mood--but then the lyrics hit me: I just want to be your everything. And it got me thinking about Elizabeth.

Big surprise there. What doesn't get me thinking about Elizabeth, these days?

But the really prominent thought in my mind was, You shouldn't be my everything. I miss you so much, the grieving hurts, but you shouldn't be my _everything._ You shouldn't have to bear that burden. No one should.

Being that emotionally dependent on someone else all the time isn't fair to anyone; it's an abuse of a relationship.

I'm relieved to be able to think that. Elizabeth meant the world to me--still does and always will--but she was not my entire world.

I don't know if this is me pulling away from what I feel or--or what. But I think it's necessary.

I'm...functioning. I'm not dragging myself through life anymore, and I'm not practically living at my office. I'm keeping the blue blanket and the pillows I crocheted for Elizabeth, but not much else, except the bowl she would serve strawberries and cream in. I donated her clothing to the CRC in Brown Sector--uh, the Garden District. I think Elizabeth would have wanted that.

Anyway...In other news--There's been a big dust-up in the department this past week. Cmdr. Severide has gone around looking as if something terribly important was happening for several days, now. I've not a clue what.

I heard from Zelda Alegari. She's settling in well with Ischemia Addams' family and thinks they're more than a little strange--but she says, since she's more than a little strange, herself, perhaps they're a good fit for her. I'm just thankful she's safe. I must remind myself to send her a piccolo of champagne. She won't know what it's for, but one of her selves will.

I guess that's it for tonight, and tomorrow's another day.

* * *

Deleted from log entry: It guts me sometimes that there's no smell of her on the blanket. If I ever needed proof that she was an EMH, that's it. At home, the afghan on our sofa was my mother's. To this day, I can remember the scent of her on it. I wonder what Elizabeth would have smelled like, if she'd been human?

 

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