| Jul. 27th, 2009 @ 08:22 pm (no subject) |
|---|
Current Music: de cara a la pared - lhasa de sala
 [Private Entry]
'Protective' my ass. I know what he wanted to do to Stella, and it wasn't protect her.
Stella's sleeping with this asshole politician. And me and Fraser got to be bodyguards until they caught the guy shooting at him. So I had a front row seat for Stella comin' outta his place nice and early in the morning. Fraser tried to tell me she was there for a breakfast date. The Stella is not a morning person. Not for eggs and salmon or whatever the fuck he gets for breakfast. She was there all night.
So yeah, we got to sit in on five hour meetings about sanitation. FIVE. HOURS. Talking about sewers. I swear to God, I have to sit through one of those again, I'm gonna start shooting up City Hall. I'll wait in the damn car. At least when that asshole threw a bottle at the groundbreaking ceremony, it was interesting.
At least I'm not that Dwayne guy, I guess. Stel said I 'always knew when to draw the line'. So I'm desperate, and and freak, but not that desperate. Desperate enough to wear a nice shirt - which she didn't even notice, so a lot of fucking good that did me - but not to harass my ex-wife.
I just...I miss her. I can't stop thinking about her. Doesn't help that my mom's always talking about how she's doing when she calls. Told me about this Orsini guy weeks ago, but I never figured it was gonna last. I should've, he's rich and successful. Bet Daddy was pleased, right up until I busted Orsini's ass. But he wasn't right for her. Not just because he's an asshole but because he ain't me. She still loves me, she just doesn't want to be with me anymore. I'd give anything to change that, but she doesn't listen when I tell her. And I'm not gonna start sending flowers to her office again. Got enough hassle from Stel and my mom for that the first time round.
You know, I thought knowing I was right, Orsini was corrupt, would make me feel better. I'm right, he's wrong, Stella's broken up with him. I should be on top of the fucking world right now. Fraser said it's some psychosomatic thingy. Post Chase something.
I almost stayed with her. Would have, if Fraser hadn't interrupted. Well, ok, if there hadn't been a psycho trying to blow up Stella. Would've danced, kissed, fucked. And woken up tomorrow morning wishing we hadn't. It's the same damn thing, every time. I beg her for just one more chance, just one night. And I get it, and it's great, and it's just like old times. And then it's not, because I'm still me, and she's still her, and our jobs are still our jobs. And it's never gonna change.
Dancing with her is easy. It's the rest that's impossible.
So, tonight, it's me, whiskey, and an empty apartment. And music. There's always the music. |
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
unpolite_cop's journal
[Filtered to Tony]
crappy