It started off perfectly. I'd introduced Jesse to everyone-there were the minor setbacks that he had to acquire a whole identity, along with qualifications. But I knew it couldn't be that hard. After all, the church had connections. And Father Dom was helping us out a lot.
That guy really had his heart in the right place. Even if he was…old fashioned (to say the least).
So, we were doing good. Better than good. We were in love, and doing something we were good at. Maybe people thought we were strange. Maybe my parents were confused, and thought he was too old for me.
But I didn't care.
The only thing that bugged me, or brought me down, was Jesse himself. I had assumed that, having watched the decades go past, he would have got used to the fact that his home was far behind him-that places have moved on, and that things won't really ever be the same as they were.
I think he thought that, too.
But, recently, he seems to have been-well. I guess the best word would be homesick.
Maybe it was because, as a ghost, he was fine with it. He had moved on from his body-and so the world moved on. He didn't have to adjust himself-no one would be there to judge him.
But bringing back his body-him being in his body…
It would just remind him of his previous life. It could only serve to bring back memories that he either did not wish to revisit-or ones he wished were more than memories.
He hated this new world. Or, at least, did not like it at all.
And that really brought me down. I'd do anything for him-honestly, anything. I would throw myself into hell for him.
I pretty much did, once.
But change the world was something I simply could not do. I'd like to-I feel sick about all the shit that happens.
But my small contributions count for practically nothing.
All I could do was watch him. It was like he was sinking into a depression. He was withdrawn and secretive. He talked more to Father Dom than me. And it hurt me.
More than those bloody ghosts ever had.
