[personal profile] ibelieveinher
For [livejournal.com profile] cryptictac a Wilson ficlet [I seem to only be able to write ficlets....]

From the prompt:
And the hunger inside
Won't go away, its starting to rise
And the longer you hide
The more you deny


As always thankyou to my wondiferously wonderful beta [livejournal.com profile] thermy777, you know the drill you make my stories better than what they were when they started out.

Somehow this came... I blame it on the Kosheen I was listening to completely when writing this. Read Review Enjoy.

Gish probably to PG i think I have no idea...



The road to hell is paved with good intentions. I have three failed marriages; well the third is in the process of failing, so two and seven eighths perhaps? They always started with the best of intentions and well, the good intentions must have fallen to the wayside somewhere along that paved road.

I come to work everyday and then go to a house, not a home, every night. It is as stark, sterile and uninviting as a modern art museum with its whites and creams and greys. The hospital is more inviting, more of a home, with its bustling halls and colours splashed on scrubs.

I may be head of Oncology but sometimes I can't stand it. Telling people "I'm sorry it's incurable" chips away at my soul. Some days I can't stand to get out of bed; to look into the eyes of the families, to tell them the cold hard truth, the horrible facts of the battle. Some days all I want to do is hurt someone, but I keep it in. Some days I just want to tear my hair out. Some days I just want to give up.

I have a well built façade. I smile and tell them everything is okay. I spin lines and lies with the best of them. I tell them everything they want to hear. And in the end? I am emptier than when I started.
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ibelieveinher

February 2006

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