Enjoy !
WeaknessesDespite how it seemed to have happened, working at night had been a choice. Your choice.
Coming to Las Vegas to join his team was another. Even easier than the first one to make.
Trying to put your bad experiences behind you was also a decision. Something you had always failed to do. Despite the years…despite the events…despite his presence. You often blamed yourself. If you were haunted by the past, then it was your problem. If you became upset while working an open investigation on domestic violence, it was because you had your ghosts.
In short, no submissive mother or abusive father was to blame. Nor an absent brother. It was you who should have been braver, you who should have been stronger. It's you who ought to be invincible and show no weaknesses. Unfortunately, you had weaknesses. Tons of them. You refused to admit it, showing only a Sara without any fear, and leaving the real person you were behind a mask.
But this was normal. You were human. And humans hate to see their weaknesses exposed to everyone.
In your life, you never made any decisions lightly. You were a thoughtful girl, weighing the pros and cons, calculating the impact your words would have once spoken out loud. But since your path had crossed his, you had changed dramatically; you became more impulsive, less calm… Of course, some subjects had always been difficult to deal with for you, including family and everything about your childhood and your teenage years. But this was a radical change. He changed you; because of him, you weren't the same.
Withone call, you moved to his city, ready to do anything he asked you to do. Never had you taken such an important decision so quickly; a decision you could regret so easily later… Finally, you performed the task for which he had called you. Subsequently, when he asked you to stay, the decision was easy. Yes, you would stay. Yes, you would work in his team. Years later, he told you that he knew that you had made this choice because of love. To be at his side. It was true.
But it wasn't all.
His presence in your life brought a balm on your body, on your invisible wounds. His words seemed to carry you into times of calm, of rest. As if it was enough to have him in the same room so your wounds could heal briefly. As if it was a kind of cure. But only a temporary cure. Because the moment he left the room, everything that had nearly healed seemed to open again, to bleed profusely. And even worse was…your heart was now crying for his absence while your body was still wounded by life.
Was this a way to distract you from the grief and pain you're still feeling? Or was it only a self-protective instinct? You never tried to pursue the issue, not that it was absolutely necessary, to be true.
Don't suffer.
It was undoubtedly essential. But then you came to be accustomed to be his presence, to love and cherish it. You fell into a new trap; love. Initially, his presence was enough for you; no need to have more, as it was repairing old wounds. The vital need to forget was filled. Thereafter, your need of him and of his presence grew. You thought you were in control, but you were wrong. Life had other plans for you.
You found it hard to see him, every night, working around him, while you needed more. By coming to Vegas, you had filled a hole, but you had created another by staying in the City of Sin. When you got home every morning, you were desperate, because your wounds had healed after all, but now it was your heart that was hurt. It was a pain of great intensity, equally painful as the one you had before. It seemed to have no limit and you found yourself going home more often to collapse in your bed and cry for the emptiness in your life. You knew you loved that man, that he'd conquered your heart, without any weapons or wars. He had it all.
How many times did you wake up in a sweat, after a sexdream of being in his arms? How many times did you lie in bed, putting an arm around your waist, imagining it was his? How many times did you touch yourself, hoping that your hand was his? How many times have you returned home accompanied by strangers whose faces you didn't even remember, just to try to forget your loneliness in their arms?
Often. Far too often.
Your new problem was perhaps more painful than the last, because you had no remedy. Despite all your ways of trying to forget, you couldn't. Because, of course, he didn't want you. He couldn't. He couldn't need you. You were so damaged, so broken, by life. Who would want you, anyway? Who would want to go out with you? Not him. Certainly not him.
You hated yourself for being needy, to need him so at this point. You, who already had a weakness, had just developed another. You thought you were weak. You find yourself vulnerable.
Then came a time when you could no longer bear the weight of your weaknesses. You cracked in the lab, yelled at Catherine, and then were disrespectful with Ecklie. You got a two-week suspension. What you said, you didn't regret it. After all, Sara Sidle never apologizes. Apologies were for the weak and despite the fact you were weak, you didn't want to show it.
But he came to see you. You were surprised, shocked, even…until you understood what it was about. He came to fire you. But he insisted that he wasn't going to do it without an explanation on your attitude. He wanted to know why you were so angry. You tried to say no, but with him…you just couldn't.
Sitting on a sofa in your living room, you began the story of your life. The father who drank, who beat your mother, your brother, and often, you. Then, the inevitable. Your mother, losing her nerves, killing your father for your protection, in front of your innocent eyes. You summarized your years in foster care, moving from family to family, like a broken doll that no one wanted or tried to repair. When you looked at him and met his gaze, you expected to see pity.
But no. Instead of pity, you found sadness, for your shitty childhood, obviously. But also tenderness. A lot of tenderness. And love.
That day, you did things you had never done before. You even wept. You were surprised when he let go of your hand and joined you on your couch to take you in his arms. And then your tears redoubled. He didn't become afraid, didn't let you go. Instead, he tightened his grip on you and kissed your forehead.
That day, for the first time, you lowered your mask and allowed yourself to be weak. You let someone reassure you, comfort you, and be there for you. You let someone take care of you. Even more important, you let him pierce your secrets. You let him know the real you. You let the words out, the words you had held back for too long. You let the tears flow, and gave him the permission to wipe them away. You allowed yourself to bury your face in the crook of his neck, let your tears wet his T-shirt, because it was foolish to have restrained everything for so long.
That day, you discovered that the real weakness was to hide what you felt. Not to express what you had to. You realized that letting go wasn't being weak or being vulnerable. Weakness was trying to be strong when you just couldn't. You understood that trying to forget your injuries didn't help to heal them at all, as you had always thought. You realized that talking about scars is what makes them slowly disappear. That's what makes you strong.
That day, your worst weaknesses became your greatest strengths.