New Torchwood, not the 'ship post

[fan_eunice]

This is not the 'shippy rundown post, that is tomorrow (and there will be glee, oh yes there will, because I can't count the number of gifts for all my 'shipping and OT3 needs I was just given on a silver platter). Because tonight I am too messed up in the head by the plot. That was good. That was really good. And I'd like my heart back now please, because mine is a pulpy mess on the floor now. 'Cause, yeah...a 15 year old boy goes missing on the tv, and I'm going to be asking myself what I'd do if it were my just barely 16 year old son...which made it all too personal. One of these days I'm going to learn to seperate things like that when I'm watching my shows. I really am. If only so I'm not sitting here in a blue funk after a well done hour of television. Would I want to know if it were me? Yes, yes, yes. I'd need to know. Should I know? I don't know. I just don't. I keep looking for the right answer in this story, the proper solution here, and there isn't one. There are two horrible answers. That's it. I keep wanting to fix it. You have no idea how much sympathy I'm feeling towards Gwen right now. I would've done exactly what she did. Did she really make it worse? Honestly, I don't know. Is hope better at 7 months? Maybe, but what about years of searching faces, what about when the scent on the pillowcase is gone for good? What about then? There is no better here. Nowhere. This story is going to haunt me. For real. How in the hell did Torchwood of all things do that to me? I'm more than a little impressed right now.

Life on the rift. Ain't it grand?