send a ◎ and a question and my muse must answer || ACCEPTING
The answer was there on his tongue immediately, but he drew in a hesitant breath instead of letting it out, thinking it over more. It was difficult to explain how he felt about Beverly—both her life and her death. Words seemed too banal to fully express his complex emotions surrounding her. And how he felt about her couldn’t be described in conventional terms. Something like that couldn’t be captured in words; it could only be felt. But he could try explaining it as best he could.
“Yeah, I did. I did love her… but probably not in the way that you’re implying. Like, not romantically. I loved her as a friend, a really close friend.” But that didn’t cut it at ALL. “But that… that didn’t make her any less important than a romantic partner to me. I don’t feel right saying ‘‘we were just friends’ because… that suggests that our relationship was lesser because it was only platonic. And that’s not right at all. My friendship with her was…“ He exhaled from his lips. ”… one of the most important relationships of my entire life. More important than most of my romances… if not all.
“It’s probably closer to say that I loved her like a sister. Our little group in the BAU, working together for almost a decade, we were all like family to each other. Jimmy and Bev were like my siblings. We sure bickered like some.” His chuckle trailed off as he tried to figure out where he was going with this because he was still not satisfied with the explanation he’d given thus far. He doubted he would ever be, even if he talked for DAYS. “But like… I love my family to death, I’d do anything for them. But family is… coincidental. You don’t choose them. But Bev and I chose to foster our bond, so it feels beyond a familial relationship, too.”
In truth, it felt above and beyond any other relationship he’s ever had. It was more than simple friendship, more than family, more than even romance. It felt like it needed its own category, but there wasn’t a word he could think of for it. “I know a lot of people thought we were eventually gonna together… or that we were secretly getting it on. But it was never like that. I mean like…” He winced slightly, thinking about the one night stand they had early on in their relationship. That was better left secret. “I may have crushed on her a bit in the beginning, but after a while… I got comfortable around her. And I grew to respect her. And admire her. And like her… y'know, innocently.” At least as innocent as a man like Brian Zeller could get.
“I didn’t like or love her any less because I wasn’t romantically interested in her. And if we had gotten together, I’m sure it would’ve been nice, but… neither of us ever felt inclined to. We had a good professional and friendly relationship, and neither of us wanted to change that. Y'know, why fix something that ain’t broke? And romantic—sexual—relationships are so messy. And complicated, and needy, and demanding. It would’ve just put a strain on our bond. And if it didn’t work out, it would’ve probably fucked up everything between us.” It was lucky that their one night fling didn’t mess everything up from there on out. Just goes to show that sex doesn’t ruin all friendships—or maybe just not worthwhile friendships.
“To be honest, I wouldn’t have changed a thing about what we had. It wasn’t perfect by any means. We fought sometimes, we got on each other’s nerves. Thankfully not as much if we had been partners. But we never held grudges. A beer and a video game session or a bad movie was all it took to forgive and forget. Yeah, it wasn’t perfect, but…” He paused, eyes going unfocused before a sheen of moisture covered them. “It was probably the most selfless… the most honest relationship I’ve ever had. We could tell each other anything. We DID tell each other everything. At least I did.” A small chuckle, only slightly stressed. “She was always the more private of us two, but I’m pretty sure she divulged more with me than she did anyone else—or maybe that’s just my egoism talking.”
His breath caught in his throat as he thought for a long, poignant moment—like the pencil tip pressing hard into the paper to make a bold period. “Actually I lied. There is one thing I would have changed…“ His teeth dug into his bottom lip, causing him the tenderest of pain. “I wish I would’ve let her know how much she meant to me. How much I loved her.” His voice cracked as his throat constricted and his eyes filled with tears. The following words trembled from his lips. “I mean, I’m sure she knew as much. But the only times I’ve told her I loved her were, like… when I was drunk or high. I never truly expressed to her—soberly—how important she was to me. How much I appreciated her. How much I cherished our friendship.”
The tears began to spill but he was quick to wipe them away. His breaths were shuddering and he covered his mouth with his hand, the back of it wet with tears. His voice was very strained now, but he fought to get the words out. “She was my rock. My constant. It’s cliché, but… she was a part of me. And that part died when she died.” He exhaled sharply. “And now I’m just carrying around this decaying thing inside me… waiting for it to turn to dust.“
But emotions don’t decompose quite like bodies, do they?
He released a long shuddering sigh. “What we had was… unlike anything I’ve ever had before. Or since.” His face crinkled up, as if experiencing pain at the dreadful certainty of the next thought. The hue of his eyes seemed to dull in defeat. Inhaling sharply, he finally spoke it aloud, “And I know… I will never have ANYTHING like it again.”
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