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Have you lost much?

I've lost ..

*stops*

Yes. I've lost everything.

*gazes off into the distance for a while*

Is there anything I can do for you...?

*cants head to the side*

I--uh, I don't know? Is there? I'm not really sure how to respond to that.

If you think of something, let me know.

Well, I mean .. what sort of stuff would you be helping me with?

If you ever need someone to talk to, my name's Murphy.

You'd be willing to do that?

It's nice to meet you Murphy. I'm Holly.

You do not have the monopoly on loss, Holly.

I .. I wasn't suggesting that I did. I just ..

I don't know. Considering you're a stranger and everything, I'm just .. surprised. That you'd offer that. Some of the people I considered my friends and closest family haven't even done that for me.

Might be why I'm a cop.

What happened, Holly?

My husband, Gerry--he died. A little more than three weeks ago. Brain tumor.

I wish there was something I could say to make it all better. But there isn't.

At least he's only...
There are things worse.

~~I've seen them and been them.~~

It is a very cruel thing, but the show...goes on.

I know; I've been trying to figure out what that thing is for a while now. So has everyone else. No one's been able to come up with someone, other than my friend's husband, John, who said, "He knew that you were crazy about him. He told me all the time." I'm just glad he knew it.

It's just mustering up the strength and the drive to even bother moving on that's the problem.

I hear that.

I'm glad I'm not the only one having a pity party today. Not that you're having a pity party, of course, but .. y'know. Just nice to know that someone else is having the same problems I am.

*shrugs* Pity, I've got in spades. But it sure as hell ain't a party.

Yeah, it doesn't keep you company, that's for sure.

*extends hand*

I'm Holly.

*sighs* I'm not much of one for company in any form, lately.

*shakes her hand*

It's a pleasure. I'm Colette.

As of late, neither am I.

*nods with a faint smile*

It's nice to meet you, Colette. What do you do?

I'm a very freelance photographer at the moment, although I've got a job waiting for me in California, whenever I get there.

What about you, Holly? What fills your days and nights?

Oh, really? Is it going to be more photography, or are you changing professions?

*laughs somewhat cynically*

What fills my days is working as a real estate agent. That means I get to show off apartments that I will never be able to afford to people who really don't deserve everything that they have because they treat everyone like shit. But as long as they can afford to pay the rent, they get whatever the hell they want.

As for my nights, it's usually just solitude. ~~With the hallucinations of Gerry still around the apartment~~. By myself.

No, I'm sticking to photography. It'll just be a little more ... permanent in location than my present situation.

*quietly* My Grandmama always told me to do what you love and love what you do. Sounds like you might consider taking those words to heart, if you don't mind me saying so. I know I wouldn't be here if I didn't have my camera. After you lose a piece of your heart, you've gotta focus on the rest of it, otherwise you'll never make it. There's gotta be something you else in your life that you love, something better than working in a downhill market.

That's good .. that you found something you're really passionate about. Still haven't found my thing yet.

*sighs*

I've been trying. Gerry, in all of his letters, keeps telling me to look for a sign. But I just don't see anything. I just see dead ends and broken hearts. Broken souls.

I'll just have to keep plugging away, I guess, hoping to find something that'll inspire me again.

And of things that have never been.

*tries to ignore the fact that the stranger looks a great deal like Gerry*

And never will be.

More likely than not, yes.

*pause* What have you lost, mademoiselle?

*stares for a few seconds, then looks away*

Honestly, I doubt you'd be interested. Not to make a judgment on your character, but, uh, I don't know.

*as if unwillingly*

My husband. My--life.

*eyes narrow behind his mask, hates to be judged by his appearance* If I were not interested I would not have asked, of that you can be certain.

*expression softens, if only slightly, still offended* It is ... difficult losing those we love, is it not?

Edited 2007-12-26 03:24 (UTC)

*looks to him*

I didn't mean it like-- fuck. I keep putting my foot in my mouth.

I just meant .. I don't know. There's a lot of fake sympathy, and I'm not looking for pity. I don't want someone to be like, "Ooooh, I'm so sorry!" and then give me a hug. You know? I just .. I want to be over it. I want to be done with it.

*stops*

I'm sorry. I'm a bitch sometimes.

*raises visible brow* I will not offer you my pity so long as you do not offer me yours. It is not something I want or require.

*waves a dismissive hand at her last comment* I do not know you well enough to judge, madame. As for being 'done with it' ... there is no such thing. Not truly. Not with such finality.

Are you--are you someone who typically receives sympathy?

*blinks, then looks around*

I'm .. I'm sorry for my completely insensitive outburst. I've just been--I don't know how to do this.

*looks to him briefly*

And .. you just look .. you look a lot like my ex--uh, late husband. I'm sorry. It's throwing me off. A bit .. a lot.

Not often, but I typically find it ... grating.

*sighs, glancing to the floor and then back to her* There is no need to keep apologising, madame. It is ~~typical~~ understandable.

*stiffens, raising an eyebrow at that, contemplating removing his mask to see if there was a resemblance then but ... that was too cruel* Do I? Then perhaps you would be more comfortable if I were to leave?

I'll just -- stop apologizing, then. But .. just in case, I'm sorry again.

*shakes head*

No .. you don't have to--you don't have to leave. I was just saying it. Using it as an excuse, I guess. You're probably the first male I've conversed with, other than my friend's husband John, in a few weeks.

I'm so--I just need to readjust to talking to men. And, I guess, to men who look a hell of a lot like Gerry.

I doubt you will come across very many, madame. Men who resemble your husband, I mean.

I've seen a few, but you're just the first I've actually interacted with. Not that it's necessarily a bad thing, I mean. He was a handsome fellow. It's just .. strange. Very strange.

*raises an eyebrow at handsome but says nothing* Certainly, yes, I can imagine.