There is something painful about pining

Something depressingly agonising

About wanting

There is something sickening

About longing

But I still keep on;



Set in Season 10.

Inspired by "Drop in the Ocean" by Ron Pope and personal experience.

Hope you all like it, please review.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Rain in the Desert

There is something about waiting for someone that makes every second linger, every minute enduring and every hour bitter. There is something about wanting someone that dulls every other sense; the skies are never the right blue, and the streets are always too loud.

And as he saw her standing at the end of the hallway as if there were no other place for her to be he realised that there was something painful about being faced with the object of his desires after years of attempting to push aside the feelings that dominated his everyday life.

Her departure had forced him to brush aside the shadows of pining that darkened his mornings as he made coffee, that were around the corner when he was on his way to work, the shadows that waited for him as he opened his front door to his empty home. His vacant life had opened its arms to him as if its embrace was only natural.

But as she titled her head back laughing in the way he had always adored a rush of hope ran throughout his body only to be followed by an aftershock of realisation. They were never going to be. That laugh would never be for him. He would never be able to taste that smile that lingered just long enough to make him melt.

He thought of all the times he had wanted to form the words to tell her all of the things that had been spinning in his mind. He imagined telling her that the only thing he thought whenever he first saw her was how beautiful she was. He would remind her how endearing the look she wore when was confused. He would finally let slip just how much he loved her.

The only thing that came after these thoughts had popped into his mind was disappointment because she had already chosen love.

In an alternate reality they would spend their mornings wrapped up in each other like jumpers in winter, drink red wine on the balcony in the evening watching the sun setting over the neon city they called home. In a world where he could have the life he had spent years dreaming off he would have a ring that went with the one she wore on her left hand.

However life had not dealt him those cards. He thought of all the times she had assured him that he would meet someone wonderful. There was something beautifully painful as he had thought to himself how he had met someone wonderful. Someone he could never have.

He had watched the years ticked by only to find that she would never look at him in the way that he had always longed. Her eyes would never soften for him in the way that they did for her husband. She would never have the urge to hold him as if there was a chance he would never come back.

She would never love him.

He had comforted himself like a raging storm, by reminding himself of his own presence. She cared from him in a strange way that he couldn't explain. And when she gave him her infamous half smile he would content himself with the knowledge that she had acknowledged him. He repressed the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her with all the passion he had held back over the years. Each day it wore on him leaving a permanent scar.

Glancing into her eyes would drag him back to longing and the smell of her skin would heighten his melancholia.

There were days he hated her. Days he despised her with darkness he never knew he possessed. He would sit pretending to read the paper as she watched her make herself a coffee in the break room and their silent conversation would volumes that could deafen. It was those days that he looked at her with hardened expression. It was those days he wanted to ask her why she was so blind. He wanted to back her into a corner and ask why she couldn't see how much he loved her, how much he needed her.

She would always watch him with caution and concern on those days as he attempted to ignore her. The distain fell to guilt when he was alone. He would sit with the smell of whiskey overwhelming him almost in the way she did as he the remorse swallowed him whole and spat him back out as if he were insignificant.

The crushing feeling of loneliness overwhelmed him as he fell into bed alone every night wishing on stars that perhaps one day he would find himself in her company. He would watch his ceiling while letting the pain of loving her sink in. He would close his eyes attempting to empty his mind to all of the things that chased away his sleep.

But in that moment as she casually fell into his arms for an embrace, everything about her overwhelming him, he realised that praying that they would be together was like wishing for rain in the desert.

The End