Dear Diary,
Pinch me.
Yes, I know you can't; I'm not crazy.
But do it anyway.
John is here. John is in the kitchen, eating about a ton of fried chicken with Storm, Logan and Professor X (in his new body) watching him like hawks. John is alive.
John is alive?
I know. I do sound nuts. But I haven't snapped, I promise! This is real! Just like everything else I've told you, this is real. He's not dead. He's not dead! I could fill entire pages with him not being dead. Just that phrase, over and over and over and... you get the point.
He showed up about an hour ago, and Professor X sent out an announcement that we should all stay out of the kitchen. I knew it was him. I knew it. How did I know it? Oh my God. He's back. He's back. I have to see him. Now. I have to touch him. Feel him. Make sure it's really true. I know I already said it was real, but...
Where has he been? Why did he come here? Why did it take him so long to come here?
I'm giddy. No. Not giddy. I'm... am I happy? I should be happy. I can't even tell if I'm happy. Overjoyed? Shocked? Numb? I don't know. Why don't I know? I have to see him. If I see him, I'll know. Maybe. Maybe I'll just fall through the floor and go down, down all the way to China. Is China directly across the globe? Could I actually fall into China?
Not the point.
I'm going. I don't care what Storm and the Professor say. They're too scared to make me stay away, anyway. They're scared I'm gonna jump off the roof and forget to phase when I hit the ground. Ha. But I'm not suicidal. Well, obviously not NOW, but before? I wasn't then, either. I think. I don't know. I've never been suicidal before... Is that how it feels? Maybe I was. But it doesn't matter because HE'S BACK and I'm going to see him right now. Now.
9999999999
So I'm here after all. I made it. After that random incident in the street where I poured my guts out to a total stranger, I actually fucking did it. I came back to the Institute. And now I'm eating chicken.
I like chicken.
But I don't know how to tell them why I'm here. Can I just say that I'm in love with Kitty Pryde, and I need to win her back and put an ad in the paper about it? Would that be stupid? Probably. Damn it. They're all staring at me. This is uncomfortable. Well, of course it is, you moron. You're the enemy! Well, not anymore.
"You know, I'm not with them anymore," I say out of the blue. "Brotherhood, I mean."
"We know," Storm says. Okay, then.
"Why are you here," Wolverine asks bluntly. He looks sick of waiting around for someone else to ask the obvious question. Heh. You and me both, man.
"I told someone I'd come back."
"Who?" It's the Professor. Did I mention that he's not dead, after all? Not only that, but he can walk.
I know.
Pretty crazy.
"I have no idea," I say truthfully. "Some random person."
"You promised some random guy that you'd come back here?" Wolvie sounds incredulous. I shrug defensively. All right, when you put it like that, it does sound kind of nuts.
"I gave my word," I say with as much dignity as I can muster.
"Like that means anything," he responds. Storm looks sharply at him. The Professor says nothing. Wolverine looks unapologetic.
"Now, it does," I reply quietly. The situation doesn't seem that funny anymore. I look down at my fried chicken. "Now, it does."
And then the door opens and you know what happens next.
Yep.
It's her.
She's cut all her hair off, but it's her.
Sweatpants. Long shirt. Cute, pixie-like hair down to the nape of her neck. Huge eyes. Circles beneath them. Thin. Chapped lips. She looks like hell. She looks beautiful.
We seem to be at an impasse.
And then she lunges at me. I yelp and drop my chicken, instinctively catching her. There's a split second of uncertainty when I don't know if she's gonna pummel me or embrace me, and then her arms are around me and she's pressing her face into my shoulder.
"You're alive," she's saying, again and again. "I hate you, you're alive, I hate you, you're alive." I can feel her lips against my neck as she whispers the words.
"Ki-" Storm begins, but Professor X waves her into silence. I glance up at him, at all of them, and there's a new expression: hope. I feel Kitty's thin arms around me, and shiver. Circles under her eyes.
"Shh," I say inanely, thrown by this. Never wanting to let go. She's always been a ghost to me, and now she's holding so tightly that I can feel her ribs against mine. "I'm not leaving again."
"You're not- I thought-"
"I'm not dead. Close, but not quite." I smile into her hair. "Bad penny, you know? We always turn up."
"I really, really hate you," she tells me, lifting her face to look at me.
"Baby, you're not alone in that," I reply. And somehow, that exchange is as meaningful as if we'd said 'I love you'. And she's hugging me again, fiercely, like she's never letting me go again.
Is it completely lame that I don't really mind?
