Left Behind

I’m not quite sure why I’m doing this, Jane pondered. Well, I do know but I just don’t want to say it. After 3 months working with the FBI training recruits, Jane was missing her family back in Boston. Korsak, Nina, Frankie Ma, and especially Maura. Her best friend in the whole world and she left her behind. Now Jane has no one. I mean, it’s not as bad as I make it out to be in my head. I’m just lonely. Maura and Ma and visited a few times in the beginning, but with Jane’s busy schedule and Maura’s hours at the clinic, Jane had never found time to go and visit Maura. Of course they skyped every week, but often when Maura would want to skype more than once, Jane would come up with  shitty excuses not to skype. In her mind, Jane knew she was being a coward. She didn’t want to skype Maura because seeing her reminded Jane of everything she had left behind.

Jane twirled the pen around between her fingers. Am I actually going to do this? Just do it Jane. Don’t be a coward.  Just write the damn letter. It’s not like you’re going to send it anyway.

Hey Maura!

How’s it going? Isn’t this crazy? Me, Jane Rizzoli, writing a letter to you. Of course I won’t send it, I’m just writing this for fun. I guess the reason why I’m writing you this letter is so I can tell ‘you’ stuff that I don’t have the courage to say myself. How are you going in Boston? How is the clinic? I hope you’re having a great time working there – I know you really love that job. Here things are getting pretty lonely. When I Skype you I pretend that I’m doing fine and that everything is great and I’m having a blast but truth be told I’m really struggling. I’ve always been one to struggle with my emotions, as you know I prefer to go with the bottling up everything approach. I just don’t want people to see me as weak. You never do though, which I think is why I’m writing you this letter. You know me the best of everyone. You know my weaknesses and you don’t pity me for my faults. I guess that’s why I trust you so much.

God, Maura, I’m so lonely here. I need a good cry. Can you believe that? Me, Jane Rizzoli, admitting I needed a good cry. I feel like over the past seven or so years my tough exterior has really broken down. Sometimes I feel like a different person. I’m sure the old me would’ve been fine here, old Jane Rizzoli would’ve just picked herself up and moved on because the job is always the most important thing. But me now, looking back on the past few years I wish I hadn’t put the job first for some cases. All those times you wanted to do cool things with me like go to the night markets or go sailing or teach me fencing and I had work, I wish I had taken the time to go with you.

Shit Maura. I freaking miss you. I thought it would be good for me to get away from everything in Boston – with everything that had happened there the ghosts had become too much. I wanted to get a fresh start but I’ve realised you can’t just pack up and leave. I thought I could – I really did but nothing in life is that easy. I wish you were here. Writing this all out makes me feel so small and weak and helpless, but just writing it all to you somehow makes it OK. Like no matter what life throws at me you’ll be there. I hope it never changes.

Jane.

Jane folded up the letter and sealed it in an envelope, addressing it to Maura and then placing it inside the draw of her bedside table.

‘Jeez. I hope no one ever reads that.’ Jane said out loud. What the actual hell Jane. Are you really that lonely that you’ve resorted to talking to yourself? Now that’s sad.

Jane switched on her phone to check the time. The picture of her and Maura at the airport flashed at her – her lock screen acting as yet another reminder. 8:50pm.

I could shower and go to bed. I really should. It’s been one hell of a day and the emotions are really crushing me right now. Nah, better to just forget about it all. Jane walked into the kitchen and opened up the pantry, reaching for a bottle of wine. Jane had started drinking wine after she had left Boston, hoping that when she went back she could try and impress Maura with her extensive wine knowledge ( which wasn’t that extensive anyway). Jane changed her mind and went for the bottle of whiskey sitting at the bottom of the cabinet. These feelings require something stronger than wine to get rid of. Grabbing the bottle, Jane made her way into the living room, and plopped herself onto the couch.

Shit. I forgot a glass. You know what. Screw it.

Jane raised the bottle into the air, ‘Screw it. Screw it all’. Writing that letter to Maura had made Jane feel something. Jane didn’t know what she was feeling, but she just wanted that feeling to go. I guess I just must be missing Maura. Jane swished the amber liquid around in the bottle. Remember your father, Jane. Don’t end up like him. Oh yeah, like that’s going to happen. Sure’ I’ve been drinking a bit more than back at home but let’s be honest life here is kind of shit. Besides, a glass of wine every couple of nights isn’t even that much. OK, maybe there is that one night a week where the whole bottle goes but hey got to have some fun, right?

Jane cracked open the cap on the whiskey and took a deep breath. I mean, it’s not like I have work tomorrow anyway. Sundays were Jane’s day off, something which she was eternally grateful for. She put the bottle to her lips and took a big sip. The liquid burned as it went down her throat, and she took a second swallow as the liquid started to make its way back up. Don’t tell me you can’t even hold your liquor anymore. Pathetic. Remember those drinking competitions you and Maura used to have. Ah, those were the good old days. Jane felt something wet on her face. Did I spill whiskey on my face? How the hell did I manage that? Hey Maura, I must be defying some kind of law, right? Jane wiped away the drop just as another one fell on her hand. Holy shit. Is this coming from my eyes? Am I crying? Surely not. The last time Jane had cried was after Frost’s funeral. She didn’t even cry when she said goodbye to everyone at the airport. Just bottled it up and kept moving. But now, that letter must’ve unscrewed the lid. She put the whiskey down. She didn’t need it. Time for bed. Let’s just keep those tears down and go to sleep. Jane started to make her way to the bedroom but before she got there, everything that had happened over the past three months just hit her all at once. Every emotion she had bottled down, every memory she had tried to forget just hit her like a punch to the gut and she doubled over, sliding down the wall onto the cold ground. Being here, on the ground, make Jane feel like she has just lost a fight – feeling weak and helpless, the coldness from the ground seeping into her veins. She thought back to something Maura had once told her, ‘You know what Jane? Sometimes it is OK to feel helpless and weak. It’s OK to feel like the whole world is caving in on you. It’s part of life. Don’t fight it. Sometimes we have to let ourselves be broken right down to the very foundations in order to piece ourselves back together. As long as we get back up. That doesn’t make you weak. That makes you stronger that someone who will struggle their whole life not being able to accept everything that has happened’.  

By now the tears were streaming down her face.

Jane pulled her knees up to her chest, put her face down, and sobbed.