And I would be the one to hold you down, kiss you so hard, I'll take your breath away and after I'd wipe away the tears, Just close your eyes dear"

Possession, Fumbling Towards Ecstacy, Sarah McLachlin

* * * * * * *

I watched you walk away from me like I was in a dream. Like it wasn't real.

Too much reality. Too damn much of it and all at once.

I tried to say something, to call after you, but my mouth wasn't listening to my brain. Wouldn't say what I asked it to say.

'Don't go. I love you. You don't need to do this. . .'

I wanted to run after you, even with Michael holding me back, but I kept thinking you'd turn around, you know? That you'd tell me you didn't mean it. That it was just one of those jokes people make when they're nervous and they don't know what else to say. Like you went too far with it. . .

Even after you'd disappeared from sight, I thought you'd come back. Aren't dreams the place where anything can happen? Like one minute you're standing on a rock blinking in this damn New Mexican sun, the next there's waves lapping up against the shore that's suddenly appeared at your feet. Ready to wash you away. Or swallow you up.

So it wasn't so outrageous that you could have come running back up that ridge. Or tell me that it didn't matter to you -- whatever my so-called 'destiny' was. That you loved me enough to be a part of it. To fight for us. For you and me, Liz.

I know that's not fair. I know it because I know how you feel. Even if you were capable of lying about something like that, about loving me, you couldn't, you know? I mean, the alien lie detector is never wrong... I know what you did had nothing to do with loving me. Or maybe that's why you did it. Because you do.

I know why you left me today. Or why you think you had to leave. I understand that it makes a kind of sense to you. You left because you believed that This, this whatever it is, is more important than just you and me. And because you thought that I would feel the same way, but not do anything about it because I'm too noble or something stupid like that.

I'm not noble, Liz. I'm selfish.

I want it all. You. My destiny. My free will. All of it.

I refuse to believe that I can't make this work. For all of us. . .

OK, so not for Tess, and I feel really badly about that, 'cause she seems so hurt, but. . . but I'm not that person, you know? I just play him on TV.

Sorry, it's not a good time to joke.

* * * * * * *

"Knowing you has made me. . . human."

* * * * * * *

Well, Isabel just came in, to try and get me to talk, but also, I think, to get me to change the CD. Yeah, right, like Sarah McLachlan is a less introspective choice than Counting Crows. . .

I wish I could do something for her. She's feeling so many things at once, all bouncing against each other in her head. She's excited to finally have some answers and to 'see' the woman who was our mother, even if she might not be alive anymore. She's scared about what lies ahead of us, too. Who knows what kind of fight we'll have on our hands. Something tells me there'll be no reasoning with these. . . these people.

She's also sad because she's missing Alex, when she's just finally decided to let him in.

Like letting him in proved something to her. And I know that it did.

I know it well.

See, you gave me something, Liz, that I never thought I'd have -- my humanity.

Growing up the way I did, in this world, but not of it, I'd come to see myself through its eyes: a monster. Knowing I didn't belong, but having no where else to be. Unsure of who or even what I was.

And so I kept to myself. I spent my life behind that tree. Watching. Hiding.

I knew that my face made me one of them, just another kid on the bus, but inside. . . Inside I was something else. I felt like it was obvious, what I was hiding, like 'alien' was written somewhere on my forehead, and it wouldn't be long before everyone would be screaming and running away. Or worse. They'd separate me from Isabel and I'd be all alone.

Part of me will always be that scared little kid, all eyes and fear. But something changed for me when I got off the bus that first day of school. Something I didn't expect.

I saw you.

You were just standing there playing with your friends, little girl games and smiles and laughter. Nothing earth-shattering, nothing unusual, nothing that anyone else would have noticed. But I noticed. It wasn't the games and the giggles that were different. It was you.

Maybe it was my alien radar kicking in. Maybe we were on the same frequency even then.

I knew, though, the moment I saw you: you were different.

Was it the warmth in your eyes? Your excitement? Your energy? Or was it something underneath all of that? That inside, even at the age of six, you were already the person you were to become.

Kind. Caring. Compassionate.

Those words weren't in my vocabulary yet, but I understood the feelings they conveyed. And I began a sort of fantasy that would get me through, not only that first day of school, but the rest of my life.

That maybe, in spite of all my fears, there was one person in this world that wouldn't treat me like I was a monster. That wouldn't hate me for what I was.

It took me two more years to talk to you and ten more to tell you my deep, dark secret, but in the end, it was worth every minute of waiting.

And it still is, Liz.

* * * * * * *

I got tired of staring out my window tonight and thought I'd see if the stars over your place looked any different. Somehow, they do. Brighter. Clearer. Closer. I know I sound like some sappy romance novel, but it's true, Liz. They do. Maybe it's because I can imagine you staring up at them at the same time.

So. . .

You love me. You love me. . .

That should be enough, shouldn't it? The little buzzy feeling I get in the pit of my stomach when I see you, the way my heart tries to break out of my chest when you smile that smile at me, the way I almost can't control myself when I feel your lips on mine. . .

And I refuse to believe this is all about my frigging hormones. (Now that I know I actually have them. . .)

'But you mean everything to me.'

How I feel about you is all tied up in what I feel about myself. You gave me that. And you made it OK to be me. . . How can I give that up, Liz? How can I just let you leave my life. Now. When I need you more than ever? When I want you more than ever?

Body. Soul. You own me, Liz Parker. No matter what happens. No matter how this ends. That's one thing that will never change.

I can see the glow from those Christmas lights of yours and I know you're out there on the roof, maybe writing in your journal. Maybe just looking up at the stars.

Every nerve in my body is singing and my head is screaming at me to climb that ladder, wipe the tears I know you're crying off that sweet face of yours, and kiss away the pain. To change your mind.

But my heart?

My heart tells me you need some time. I need some time. To work this all out.

But believe this, Liz: I will.

Maybe not tonight. Maybe not even tomorrow. But soon.

Very soon, Liz.