It's been two and a half years.
Two and a half fucking years since Jean's death.
Two and a half fucking years since I got the 'cure'.
Two and a half fucking years since anyone's heard of Logan.
Two and a half fucking years since I left the X-Men.
And became 'normal'.
Which is what I wanted.
Right?
Fuck no.
You know the saying 'you only want what you can't have'?
Believe me, it's the truth.
I'm finally able to have my own little life out of everything else and I can make skin to skin contact;
hug close friends,
hold sobbing children,
kiss boys,
all that jazz.
But goddamn it I'd fucking kill to have my soul sucking powers back.
I feel empty without them.
Let me correct that:
I felt empty without them.
I can feel them pulling under my skin as they toss and turn and rage at the idea that they've been controlled, and behind them all the voices and thoughts and ideas of everyone I've absorbed before they stuck that needle in my skin and killed off my powers.
It's just like it used to be.
Like how it used to be two and a half years ago.