Disclaimers:
I do not own anything. All rights belong to R.A. Dick (Josephine Leslie) and 20thCentury Fox.

Also thanks to all GAMM writers, both from the series and fan-fiction authors for publishing such wonderful stories; there is no attempt on my part to imitate any of these published works.

Summary: At some point in everyone's life there is a time when we question our own sanity…

Bonkers

By Dark Poltergeist

Carolyn Muir's Journal

I don't know how it happened, I don't know when it happened, I only know that it did. I consider myself a sane, rational woman, one with both imagination and common sense, grounded in reality by the necessities of taking care of children and running a household. So how did I come to this?

The fact is that I am crazy, a certifiable dyed in the wool lunatic, a woman who has lost her mind and has no hope of recovering it. I am nuts, mad, round the bend, wacky, absurd, cracked, and in the words of the person causing all of this, I am barmy.

I was fine until I moved to Schooner Bay and into Gull Cottage. I was told I was moving my family into a haunted house, but I didn't care. The price was right and I didn't believe in ghosts so why on earth wouldn't I move into a house like that? It needed work, true, but that never scared me. That was when I first met him, when he first appeared, him, the ghost that lives in Gull Cottage.

Captain Daniel Gregg, the man, the sea Captain that built Gull Cottage and died an untimely death in an unfortunate accident. He kicked the blasted heater with his blasted foot, or so he tells me.

Then he became a ghost, and now he lives here with us, at Gull Cottage. But you see, that's the thing, I don't believe in ghosts, or at least I didn't used to. I had read stories of ghosts and paranormal creatures but I put very little stock in any of them. A writer's imagination is a wonderful thing, but it's just that, its imagination.

Why would I move into a new house and create a ghost? It's ludicrous. And what a ghost! Nothing like those white sheeted, or transparent figures that people think they see in some questionable photographs, no, I see a full bodied, solid looking very handsome and sexy sea captain. I would never have imagined ghost such as him.

At first I thought maybe it was because I was lonely when I moved here, I mean it was true. Even though my marriage wasn't the best, and I realized that though I loved my husband, I wasn't in love with him, I never expected him to die in that terrible car crash. Our marriage was dissolving but we were still friends and it still makes me sad that he is gone.

So I had actually been lonely for quite some time by the time we moved in her, though I refused to admit it even to myself. The house is scattered with the Captain's treasures, the things he valued most in his lifetime, so it would be easy to imagine such a man still lived here. A psychiatrist I know almost convinced me of that. A lonely woman wanting a man back in her life, you know that nonsense.

I've had daydreams about men before, movie stars like Cary Grant, Clark Gable, sometimes even just a handsome man that I saw in passing. There's nothing wrong with admiring a good looking man or even fantasizing about him, it's normal. None of those fantasies however, had ever talked back to me before, engaged me in conversation, or argued with me. None of those fantasies had been nearly so appealing to me as Captain Gregg.

His presence is not to be denied, he doesn't just enter the room he becomes the room, and I can hardly look at anything or anyone else when he is there. He fills the room with his essence as if it is the most natural thing in the world, and as if he can't help himself, and he probably can't, it's just how he is. He is domineering and used to getting his own way, and can be a real pain in the ass, but he is also one of the most charming, compassionate and sweetest men I have ever met

He stands about six foot tall, he is broad shouldered, has a muscular chest, nice hips, and butt (well I looked!), and strong legs. Quite a nice package. And then there's his face, it's a very handsome face. Reddish brown hair with a slight wave to it, hair that I long to run my fingers through, a neatly trimmed short beard and mustache that highlight his masculine features, and most incredible blue eyes I have ever seen. I could and have gotten lost in them, though so far I have managed to pull myself back before I said something stupid.

We fight, but we always find a way around it, and are better for it. And though he cares for me I don't know if he feels the same way I do, for I not only have interactions with a ghost, but God help me I have fallen in love with my ghost.

See? I am crazy, stark raving mad with no hope of a reprieve. I know I can't touch him, nor can he touch me, no matter how much I imagine it, how much I long for it. Knowing that reality is painful as I so long to feel him hold me, kiss me, and make love to me. In truth, even holding hands with him at this point would be a thrill. What have I come to?

And since I am so in love with Daniel, how can any man in the physical world compare to him? He is everything I have ever wanted in a man, and I know he is mine as much as he can be. We don't speak of his limitations though we are both acutely aware of it, aware of what we really want and cannot have.

I don't know what to do. My rational mind tells me I should let go, I should move on, but I can't. The local men seem so inept, so ordinary, positively boring compared to him. How do I tell him how I feel? And should I? What's the point to it if we can never have what we truly want? What cruel trick of fate is this to place us together when we can't be together? I used to appreciate a healthy sense of irony, not anymore.

So for the moment I will go on like this, pretending everything will be all right and that someday we will find a way to speak of our feelings and perhaps find a way to be together. I know it is a long shot at best, but for now I want to pretend.

He is my true love and will always be my true love and maybe some time I'll gather the courage to tell him that.

I can sense him coming, there is an electricity in the air that I can feel when he is nearby, it's a connection I can't explain away and one my imagination couldn't create. We are somehow connected and I know he feels it too.

Blast! I will have to wrap this up lest he see what I've been writing! I've learned to hide the things I don't want him to read as he is a rather experienced snoop! Stupid ghost man, why isn't he real? The things I could do…

No time for that line of thought, need to tuck this away from his prying eyes. Maybe I'll expound on that later…

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Author's Note: Please read and review! Let me know what you think. Although GAMM is the stuff of great romance there is a point where I think a person would have to question themselves about being in love with a ghost…so here is this short little story…