Memories from long ago elapse and exist like wisps. I feel, sometimes see, and even embody the contours that are presented from my mind. However, the details feel like a mass that I cannot decipher with detail. I remember only the faintest hints and the very stations that marked the events, but the details, the how, and the why... They remained elusive, refusing articulation and full remembrance.
At this moment, my mind in a blur somewhere, those contours were right in front of me. I existed in one, feeling the faint images of Pallet Town begin to manifest in my mind. It was a simple field of grass, my younger self in the center on his knees. I reached out, attempted to shout something, but I had no voice. I was spectral, bearing witness but with no way to address. I could hear the ghostly and silent cries, almost rendering me to my own knees.
To relive is to also remember.
I heard what sounded like my own voice, but with a tenor more confident, more dominant, but a touch more malicious to my ears. A younger version of my voice, but it was not my voice. I turned around to see my brother. He bore a streak of red in his clothing, the only color in this muddy vision of a memory.
I was knocked by. We collided, even as he passed through me.
That vision was lost. The words that he shouted felt wordless. I could not discern meaning.
Everything hurt.
It was a strange feeling to have, even if I came to being draped in sheets and lying down on a bed that was so much more comfortable than the ones I was on for the past few weeks. A sense of warmth overcame me, my body entangled in a cocoon of sheets. My eyes awoke to the sight of relative darkness, noticing only the streaks of dawn poring through the windows. To get up was a struggle, because even attempting to move reminded me of the latent pain that coursed through my body. My shoulders, torso... I was loathe to say that there wasn't a part that didn't hurt. It took a while to dull, but feeling the sheets around my body helped numb it, even if I was looking at a maze to get out from.
There was a slight sense of relief knowing I was still in Marcus' apartment... The early morning light reminded me to look at the direction of his bed. There he was, sound asleep but barely making any noise. I relented on trying to force myself up and decided to let myself just... think. Well, I wasn't quite sure if I could call it thinking, because my brain felt like a river... A stream that I wasn't sure that would find an end or any meaning. It was a buzz of sorts, an endless drone that was trying to find a way to articulate everything that I was thinking about, everything that had happened up to this point, and just... why.
A place to start was my stench. Beyond the pain, I smelled... and I smelled bad. I wasn't sure how global that smell was considering that Marcus was sleeping through it well. Or if he did notice it, he was taking it rather well.
Another place to start was just how... innocent, this all felt. I woke up feeling... normal was a stretch, but I didn't feel that burdening sense of dread on my chest, or fear, or that annoyed and fearful 'here we go again' sensation that was common in both Hope House and the old estate back in Pallet Town. There was a strange serenity to this, hearing the silence, feeling the stillness, and embodying... the imperfect peace, if I needed to find some sort of name.
Hours would pass when the apartment began to awaken. That was when the dread returned, since I knew then I'd be close to meeting the rest of Marcus' family. Primarily his Mom... I felt that pressure of needing to impress. To conceal any unnecessary emotion, show only happiness and gratefulness. That wasn't to say that I didn't feel neither; this kind of luck was luck I never really encountered. This... had been the best thing to happen to me ever since I escaped from the Sheffield estate in Pallet Town. I just wasn't sure how to express that without... without all of the emotions bubbling up inside me. They threatened to de-stabilize the walls, the strength, and the image I tried to build as someone who was... Ah, I think I'm lying to myself now, to be honest.
I took a shower, after Marcus did his, to tide the time during those hours. It's been so long since I had a proper one... I flinched when I felt the water course through my skin. It was strange to be touched so gently, touched by something that wasn't even a human hand. I tried to keep it as quick as possible. Yet, to my body and to my sensation, this was about luxurious as it gets. There was actual hot water hitting my body. A shower felt more relaxing than urgent. I hated making such a big deal out of the little things, but even this... The way he allowed me to actually shower, the way he was so gracious... When I was alone, letting the water run through me, I knew that I was crying. I was sobbing, really. The tears were intermixed with shower water. My sobs, silent, were absorbed into the almost comforting white noise of water splashing to the floor.
I lost it then and there. Somehow, I had enough sense to be able to hold on and stand. I didn't want to be found crying on the shower for the first full day of being here. That would've been... I shook my head as I exited the shower, drying and getting dressed quickly. Something in me told me to slow down... Old habits are difficult to extinguish. I still fell that sense of needing to move through efficiently and quickly. That the very act of cleaning's one self was itself a luxury. In many ways... That is true.
Meeting Marcus in the morning was itself a relief.
"You look more refreshed now, Claude. You ready to meet my Mom?"
His easy smile was infectious. He really knew make someone feel like they're at home... It made me anticipate the day, really. I wasn't sure if they had plans, or any sort of itinerary. It was... very go with the flow. And I'll be honest, that was something I didn't mind. It was a good sojourn away from the panic of the ever-so imaginary and inchoate schedule. To feel that you must always be doing something, but you never really know how much time or how much effort. I wanted more of this ease. To have it be close to some sort of permanence...
Was this really a taste of what a normal life should be?
"Y-yes."
I still stumbled over my words. Luck have it, Marcus didn't seem to mind from the way he chuckled.
"Don't be so nervous. She's not going to bite... She was the one who convinced Dad to let you stay here. I've told her that you were still getting ready, but we have one the family gathering outside."
I nodded, biting my lip and breathing. Every step from Marcus' bedroom and out into the common space felt like I was floating in a dream. This dream, even if it was reality, felt so fragile yet so strong. Just one little thing, or even an externality, could rip the seams tying all these threads together. Yet, the more I walked, and the more I let this stillness in, the more it felt this was real. That this... was possible. I knew from the circles that my thoughts were going on meant that this was going to take time to absorb. This must've appeared bizarre... I'm just gaping at a mundane life. Yet, why does it feel like I still want to ball over in tears of joy? In tears of both joy and... sadness?
My heart raced as Marcus and I stepped out into the living room. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Diamond was there already, helping prepare the food for the morning. Who I assumed to be Mrs. Diamond was sitting on the couches, glancing at the both of us with an easy smile. The whole experience still felt so surreal. Walking to her, hell to the couches even, felt like I was walking on air lost within a dream that was due to fade at any moment. She smiled at Marcus with an immense warmth. In many ways, she reminded of my own Mom in the most recent years. It's the kind of warmth that burrows within your chest, a warmth that I can't articulate that I'll ever need. Yet, when it reaches deep into your heart, you begin to realize just how much of it is so fundamental to not just even functioning properly, but realizing that somebody cares without any sort of pretense. That… you're loved in a way you won't ever doubt. I sat down in a couch as I was thinking through all of this. There was still that lingering impression that I was an intruder, even if I sat face to face with the very person who may have just saved me from living with Mr. Scott any further, and as a result, maybe even my life…
"It's nice to finally meet you, Claude. My son's spoken about you. I'm Angela Diamond." She said to me, directing some of that warmth to my direction.
I hesitantly shook her hand, trying my best to offer some sort of smile. There was so much I can say, yet the shock of it all still rendered me breathless. For what can I say to a person who I owe, but have only met in these few minutes?
"Quiet one? That's alright… I've only heard just bits and pieces. Ah, looks like Lucas is finished. Come on, let's eat breakfast."
The whole experience of a family breakfast was a blur. It became clear to me that this mundaenity could be something I could get used to… The entire time, I could tell Marcus had that kind of embarrassment of either his parents doting on him or making some kind of corny joke about past pokemon trainer memories or of adult life. It was a comforting dynamic to be lost in. It almost felt at some parts that I was an audience member along for the life. Even if it felt isolating in that table somewhat… Just the energy of experiencing the small things, from banter I process but struggle somewhat to retain specific details over, from the way Marcus' Dad would check up on Marcus and I while we were eating, and them just… living their lives provided a comforting rush. This kind of life was possible and attainable. Playful ribbing and some jokes about Marcus' rivals were to be had. Sometimes they were about Xavier, considering just how long the rivalry between those two lasted.
Yet the entire time, they mostly let me sit and eat with them in peace. They didn't ask me about the Xavier connections or pried too deeply into my past. Whatever Marcus had told them… It largely worked. I was prepared, but only barely, to try and explain how and why I would be living with them temporarily. As soon as breakfast was done, I offered to help my own dishes.
"Help is always appreciated. However, you're also a guest. Just this once," Mr. Diamond said.
It was a shock, but I also felt disrespecting their wishes wouldn't be a wise choice. I nodded gratefully at them. Today was a Saturday, so there wasn't quite much to do except lounge around unless one of Marcus' parents needed to go and do some sudden errands. Marcus beckoned me outside to the porch that overlooked the concrete jungle that was Saffron City. It was a nice view, relaxing and calming… Looking at Saffron City from this angle was weird, especially in the relative safety and comfort in a homely apartment. For this moment, feeling the slight brush of the wind and the background noise of daily city life was nothing but pure bliss. There was a rhythm to the sounds of cars and pokemon whizzing by, of lives moving and going about their daily lives. I… finally appreciated that fact, even as obvious as it seems. Without survival in the mind, feeling these small moments as moments I took as small victories in this life.
"Lot on your mind?" Marcus asked me.
I was flushed. I was that lost in my reverie?... I nodded at Marcus' question, trying to give him a smile. Again, that surreal feeling popped up. I never expected that I'd end up having a quiet moment with the person my brother considered a rival, much less his equal too. Again, there was so much I wanted to say even back from when he saved me in Viridian Forest. Awkwardness is always abound in situations like this… There was so much to tell, so much to say, but I didn't know where or how to begin with that. He's already done a lot for me… and it felt like piling on the thing called my life story would just be the unnecessary icing on the cake.
Yet, I wanted to tell him. Impulses are strange things…
"Thank you…" I said.
At this rate, it was definitely the one phrase I repeated to him ad nauseam. Yet, how could I not?... Masterstrokes of fate and luck seemed to have me running into him seemingly at almost appropriate yet random times. He may have left once, but then the second time I see him… Here I am now, away. Things still felt dream-like. There was still a heaviness not just on my heart, but it almost felt like my entire body at this rate. But within that almost drowning heaviness was a faint light in the distance. After feeling for so long I was falling into this never-ending abyss, the literal silver lining appeared.
I turned to him, seeing him flash an awkward yet soft smile at me. There was a silence between us as we stared into Saffron. I… wasn't sure how to proceed. Do I try and spark a conversation? What could he possibly ask of me? There was the topic of Xavier… Marcus' own journeys…
Yet still, there was something comforting about the quietude… To have more moments like this from here on out would be incredible, even if it felt more like a fantasy than any possible reality.
"You don't need to thank me…" Marcus started.
"What… do you think so far?" he asked me.
It was surreal to see just how vulnerable he was. I saw a slight look of astonishment when I gave him a shocked glance. I've spent so long trying to stay alive that trying to interact in a 'normal' way was lost on me. And that question… I really wasn't sure how to formulate an answer that would be quick and easy. I knew in my heart that this was better than anything. Such a snap judgment, considering I've only been here for a night and a morning. Who knows what lies beneath?... After all, us Sheffields always knew how to put up a convincing public performance. Taking just my parents, then just Xavier and Alexis… You had an idyllic trainer family with two up and comers, a Mother who was renowned in training from yesteryear, and a Father that made the big pokebucks.
Yet still, I felt something different here… Not as prone to needing to show off money and happiness. More modest but still comfortable. It's awful describing this in those terms. As much as… home never felt like home. It's not as if I didn't benefit from being a rich man's son. I hated that my Father still lived within me like that beyond just his blood within me.
After this, where do I begin to answer?...
"I… I like it here, Marcus… I… I feel… I feel safe?"
I shook my head in an attempt to gain some clarity.
"It's not like before… either back at Pallet or with Mr. Scott. I… really like this kind of life. Calm, peaceful, and… just being here. I've… never really had the chance to stand here and be calm without worrying so much," I said.
I took a breath after I said all of that. I wasn't sure if something like that was warranted, and argh there were parts I wished I phrased much more gracefully. Yet, Marcus seemed to take it from an answer, from the way he did that easy and comforting smile again. I was relieved… Maybe it's from old memories at Pewter or having the desire for a friend finally being fulfilled or maybe both. I felt like I could properly open up.
"I'm glad to hear that. I was a little bit worried. You looked a little bit out of it during breakfast. I asked my Mom and Dad to not poke on you too much for being my brother's rival… I know he's still a sensitive subject." Marcus scratched the back of his head.
Xavier…
"It's fine and… I'll be honest I… I'm still not sure how to feel about him…"
I heard Marcus chuckle at that, sounding both pained and yet good-natured. The rivalry between him and my brother… What must it have been like personally and beyond just the trainer battles? I remember that fateful championship battle in Johto. It was the whole climax of their rivalry that got some considerable coverage in the trainer scene. At least, as far as my sister told me, both Xavier and Marcus were trainers that showed incredible potential and drive at such a young age. In other words, they were trainer prodigies. They brought in results that were above and beyond what 10 to 11 years old trainers were normally displaying. Both, by the time they started their journeys to Johto, looked like possible Gym Leaders or even Elite Four members. In some sense it made perfect sense for fate to have these two trainers encounter each other at some point... Contrasting styles even, down to the aesthetic. My brother wore and branded himself red at any opportunity, right down to having a charizard as his signature pokemon. Marcus was blue all around, with some hints of red. It felt silly to rely on clothing... There was so much beyond just what they looked like on the TV screens or on the trainer profiles that would sometimes get released whenever a conference season ended.
The details of how they trained their pokemon, however… That was lost on me. I wanted to ask Marcus, but a part of me also had a feeling that Xavier was still a sensitive subject for him too. I still can't ward away the image of Marcus staring down into the floor of Johto's Silver Stadium. His eyes covered by his beret. His emotions and frustrations only given a passing glance on the TV screen before turning away to celebrate my brother's win over Marcus. My heart hurt for him. My sister sympathized with him. However, my sister and I were just passive observers behind a TV screen. Hell, the first I actually witnessed the whole battle was through a recording of it days after it all happened live.
"I understand… I'll be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about him too. I mean, I respect him and all and well… We're equals yeah. But there's something about him that always… Struck at me… weird?" Marcus said.
"What… Do you mean?" I asked him.
I was hesitant to speculate. A part of me was… frightened to find out more about him.
"Well, the thing with Xavier is that he's a tough trainer on his pokemon. It's difficult to describe but he's all about power. You've seen his Charizard, right?"
I nodded.
"A part of me wonders if he treats them right… And why he's even in this whole training thing to begin with. I ain't perfect, and my Mom… she does kinda make a point to remind me how I'm progressing at this too fast. I just came from Hoenn not too long ago. I'm three years into this and I… understand the rush. I like training hard, but I like caring for my pokemon too… I dunno, I'm sorry about that."
I wasn't sure how to respond or to even contemplate his words. It wasn't just Xavier that had all these effects on him, but I did understand to an extent where he was coming from. I… do remember seeing Xavier's thirst for power at a young age. It was one of the many traits he shared with Father… That sense of control, of accomplishment, and renown was kind of like a… I wasn't sure what kind of metaphor to use, but it was definitely a sort of drug for Xaiver and my father. Except for Xavier, it was pokemon and glory, not money. I still had a specific memory dancing in my head but I struggled to recount it… What was it?...
Anyway, I nodded at Marcus. I was not sure how to comfort him either.
"No need to apologize… I've… been thinking about some of things your parents said… I'll be honest I… was preparing to talk about him but… I don't know…" I said.
I really have to start getting my conversation skills together.
"Heh… They've been good-natured about the whole thing, best they can considering my suspicions about him. I know my Dad knows your Dad, but they've only met a couple of times and he's not exactly fond of him… Anyway, you recognize them?"
I shook my head.
"I figured… I don't think he ever talked about his parents a lot. I'll be honest, I didn't even recognize you except me… seeing his face. You two, at least from a distance, look like you could be clones."
It still hurt, even if I knew that base similarity was superficial. I tried not to let it show, however.
"I didn't mean anything by that… Sorry," Marcus suddenly said.
"Marcus… it's fine. Xavier is my twin anyway. I can't escape looking like him even if I tried…"
There was a silence between us after that. Xavier… The question still swirled in my head. Who was he? Why was he like that? What made him interested in pokemon and power? I've lived with him for at least ten years before he set onto his journey throughout Kanto. Yet, he may as well be a stranger to me.
"What was… life back like in Pallet? With your family. You don't have to answer if you don't wanna…"
I'd normally be tight lipped about things like this. Not even to Trouble, Trouble… would I wax lyrical about the life I lead before I made the choice to run away from Pallet. The only person I ever came close that wasn't Marcus was… Alexis, really. Even then, she already saw our home life up close. Father loved her dearly, but even she bore witnessed to all of the terrible things that kept happening. Over and over… over and over… Marcus is, as far as I knew, the first person I'd be inadvertently and now deliberately letting out all of these messy memories to. I took a deep breath. If I was going to tell this right, I might as well it tell it through instinct…
"You saved my life two times over, Marcus… The fact that… You're letting me tell this is… It means a lot…
"Life in Pallet… How much has Xavier said about life back there?" I asked.
"Hmmm… as I said, he didn't talk about any of his parents. His life back home… I'll be honest, I could kinda tell he was well off. So am I to an extent, but he… I couldn't describe it. The equipment he had, all the items. When we started talking beyond battles, that's when he outright told me he came from a well-to-do family, and that he looked up to his father. He didn't say much beyond that, though. He just focused solely on wanting to battle me."
I paused my train of thought when Marcus said all of that. It was uncanny, the way he described Xavier... The spirit of competition was always with him. Trainer school, other kids he scuffled with, and the way he'd constantly ward away bullies at a young age. You never messed with Xavier. You don't talk to him unless you had something important or something that he'd be vaguely interested in. I collected these scant memories together as much as I could and took a deep breath. I wasn't sure how much there was to go through, or how much Marcus would even be interested in... But, here we go.
"It... that rings true... Xavier and I we... Lived comfortable lives, relatively speaking... We had an estate in Pallet. Father paid everything for Xavier when he started his first journey. They both were the spitting image of each other... Ruthless, powerhungry, but most of all... determined and calculated. You saying he was well-off... You're right."
"What about you?..."
"I... I will say that... Xavier and I lived in the same house... Had the same father, but... It was different... I remember now so clearly because I'm saying all of this out loud... I was the black sheep, Marcus. My Mother... she told me that they'd only wanted one boy. I... never really knew how they decided which one they'd favor and which one they... wouldn't. My Father dictated as far as I knew and... I still don't know why
"But for most of my life... I lived it knowing that I was different from Xavier and... not necessarily different from everyone, but I found out very early on that I wasn't good at anything... I wasn't good with pokemon... I wasn't tenacious... I was quiet, afraid... And well... My father..."
I felt my breath hitch. My thoughts were locked. I couldn't speak. I was overcome... so overcome with so much emotion I wasn't sure again, where to begin. I felt Marcus' hand on my shoulder and I held onto him instinctively. My father...
I shook my head to regain some sense and tried to give him some personal space. There was another silence between and I'll be honest I felt guilty. I should've realized that the thought of well... him would provoke a response like that. I wanted to believe so badly that I was worth something to him. And to find out that no matter how old I got, no matter how much I tried to stay quiet, he would never stop tormenting me. He would never stop making sure I learned my place. He would never stop.
He would never stop.
He would never stop.
He would never stop...
"Claude... Claude it's okay. You're shaking. I'm here, you're okay."
I heard Marcus' voice through the thicket of these memories that were about drown me. I held onto that voice metaphorically, shaking my head to try and clear everything again. I felt my hands shake, just as he remarked that I was shaking. I felt like my Father was here, about to strike about at any moment. I took a deep breath and tried to focus... I'm in Saffron. I'm in Marcus' apartment... He's right here, his parents are still inside. He's not close... he's not here.
"I... I'm sorry..."
"It's okay, Claude. Seriously, you looked like you were about to faint... We don't have to talk about this until later. Sure, you're alright?"
"It... It's fine... I wanna say a couple more things... I'm sorry I... forgot that I still... have bad memories..." I sputtered out.
Silence again... I needed to take my time with this. I just had to dance around without mentioning him, I guess.
"I spent so much growing up just... alone. I... never really did well... I wanted to answer why I never became a trainer when you asked me that... that in Pewter."
Come on, Claude... Don't start losing your train of thought now.
"I refused, yeah... But, when I was learning how to become one... I always did so badly... My Mother suspected I may have had a phobia, or anxiety... I... I just felt so anxious around pokemon so long ago... I was able to move past it but it was... too little, too late... I never got the hang of pokemon battling, survival tips... In those... exams where we were judged whether or not we were fit to be trainers... Marcus, you remember those, right?..."
"I do. It's been so long ago, I can faintly remember mine. What about them?"
"I... didn't do so well in them. The bar for passing was low and I did clear it but... Xavier went and got one of the best performances in it for people in his grade... I remember seeing the letters come in... Xavier was so proud of himself. He was gonna be a trainer, about to get his license... They even had some special dinner in Celadon... All of us, somehow I was included... But the night was his and his alone
"It came to the point where everything happening at home... I felt like I didn't deserve to be one... I needed to stay because how else could I survive out there?... When Professor Oak asked me for the first time, that question... Do you want to be a pokemon trainer?... I refused... So, that's why things are... like this."
It wasn't a finished explanation, that much I was sure. Yet, somehow... I wasn't sure if I had the strength to keep on going with the memories I thought I had a handle. As it turned out, speaking them somehow made them more real. It validated their existence in a way that just simply thinking and repressing didn't. It was a release from me, surely. But all of it... even just what felt like a fraction finally hit my heart in a way I wasn't ever expecting it too. All those years of crying alone suddenly felt so small. All those years of trying to forget that it all ever happened. All of a sudden, when you put this in front of a person that you want to trust, that you want so badly to be your anchor... It gets right to the heart of the question I've always wanted to ask but always dodged. Because I know just how self-serving it is... Just how much it was always a risk to ask. I know deep in my heart that the answer to that was something in my stomach.
Do I... Do I matter?...
I asked that question in my head and that was the final piece of the straw that broke the wall I was trying to hold together with a band-aid. I know that it was probably better to do this with Marcus' parents. Yet... it was Marcus himself that was there in the moments where he spared my life from further misery. This time, I knew I was shaking. My thoughts were gone and my eyes watered... I'd never cried of a person before except... well... yeah.
But this time I... I made some silly gesture. He looked confounded and concerned. I tried to whisper 'hug' in the stronger voice I could muster. Whatever the hell came out of my mouth seemed to work. Before long, I buried myself in his arms in an awkward hug. There was something he did that let me know that it wasn't often that things like arose in his life... Yet, I didn't care. The tears stung and leaked from my eyes and I just heaved.
Cried for all the shit that's happened. Cried from the relief that for now, I didn't have to go back to where it all started.
Crybaby... I could feel the insults now. I knew that I was not going to be happy with myself when this was done.
I just want to matter... to someone. To anyone.
The day blurred into the evening right after that. It was... awkward after. It wasn't awkward enough to the point where his parents noticed something. Albeit, Mrs. Diamond did ask what the stain was on Marcus' shirt when we were done from the patio. He fibbed something, but... something from the way Mrs. Diamond glanced at me, then at Marcus, then back at me again. The patio door ended up being open after all. The increased clarity that came from sobbing it all out had me suspect that she probably knew, and she probably heard some parts of our conversation outside. It was a lot to pile on Marcus, I'll admit that. I knew it was unfair, and I'll be honest... if someone did all of that to me, cry into my shoulders while I had no idea how to properly comfort, I'd be lost and scared. Helpless at what to do for a person I'm supposed to help.
I'm glad it was one of those lazy Saturdays. Me being still the passive child I was... It really was mostly either helping out the Diamonds with random chores or just watching Marcus play video games or even do some light pokemon training. It wasn't anything too intense, but it was comforting. I just wished I could... not feel so awkward and vulnerable all the time. He was kind of an emotional living crutch at this point... And we'd barely just known each other all this time still. At some point, I'd have to return some sort of favor and get to know him better.
The sad part is, in talking about the wild prodigy that is Xavier, I... kinda robbed Marcus of talking about himself.
Yet... being here was itself a gift. It reminded that there was a future, even if this was a temporary holding place until, fingers crossed, something permanent could be found. It was fun just being able to take in the sights of the apartment without something in the back of my mind that focused on trying to stay alive. For once, the whole philosophy behind lingering with the little things made sense. It was absorbing the homeliness of the apartment, the way things were arranged, and finding the profundity even behind the daily routine of some cleaning, relaxing, and planning the week (for Marcus' family especially). Talking about work but not in such a high-pressure way... Marcus planning out his training schedule in preparation for that battle with Xavier.
It was so slow and so fast. It didn't hit me until it was nighttime and when it was Marcus and I alone in his room, preparing to turn in for the night. The sleeping bag was properly arranged this time, so it wasn't quite the strewn (yet still very comfortable) mess it was probably about 12 to 13 hours ago. Throughout the day we mostly did small talk. It wasn't quite the heart-pounding heart to heart on the porch. He was a little bit fidgety, still awkward... He mellowed out some when the day was nearing its end.
Now, it was just us two. We'd just done our nightly routine (in which I had to create one) and experienced the odd yet surreal experience of brushing my teeth. We were about to settle in for the night and turn the lights off.
"Hey, Marcus..." I started.
"What's up?"
"I... about earlier... in the porch... thank you..."
"Claude... I thought about it... no need. I wasn't expecting it, I'll be honest, but... I think I understand more why you... why you're here. And thinking about what happened in Pewter... I wanna say this.
"If you ever need to talk, just let me know. Good night, Claude."
"Good night..."
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say I was left breathless. I didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but blissful sleep was at least ahead. Maybe there'd come a day where my heart wouldn't feel so heavy. Maybe there'd be a day where I can go through with an easy smile that becomes less and less forced. This hope... it was dangerous. Yet, I could grasp it even in the form of this sleeping bed. I clutched fabric close to my chest, breathing it in. If memories could become real, then maybe this too... In many ways, I could finally feel the first sign of healing.
They weren't going to fade, of course. Memories aren't like that... But finally, there's some distance. There's a bridge between then and now and I finally felt I could begin crossing it...
I closed my eyes, descending into a deep slumber.
I don't know what tomorrow will bring. But for once, I could let just tomorrow come in its own terms.