I slide off the desk, away from Virgil, and try to walk towards my room
without visibly trembling. Every inch of my body has gone numb and I feel
as if my anesthetized legs won't support me. Virgil calls my name but I
ignore him as I shut the door and lie down on my bed.
I stare at the ceiling, my face set like stone. I don't know whether to be grateful Alan found out the way he did or whether to feel broken because he's been brought in on this before we're ready to tell him. On one hand, it saves Virgil and I from the traumatizing discussion we'd have to have with him. On the other, none of us were prepared for what happened, including Alan.
Wishing there was some way I could possibly feel his pain for him, my own heartache begins to get to me and I find tears slipping down my cheeks almost unnoticed. I have strong feelings for Virgil, and deep inside my heart, I think they've always been there somewhere. But Alan is Alan, and when I came to live with the Tracys', he was the first person to take me under his wing and show me around. He was always there for me - a shoulder to cry on, a sweater to lend when I was cold, or an ear to use when I needed to talk.
Is it so wrong to love two men at one time?
Yes, my mind answers. I've gotten myself in too deep and I wonder if my liable feelings will ever cease.
My father raps lightly on my door and I realize I'd been drowning in my thoughts for longer than I knew. I press the button on the side of my bed and the door opens, revealing his worried features. As soon as he sees the tears on my face, he seems to become even more concerned and comes to sit on my bed.
I shut the door, afraid someone will walk by and see me in this state. It's bad enough I'm obviously going to have to explain it to my father alone, but when I have to break the news to the rest of the Tracys, I'm going to need all the support Virgil can give me.
"Tin-Tin, what is wrong?" He asks, taking my hand and looking at me with distress clearly written everywhere on his body.
I take deep, calming breaths, trying to get my tears to stop their continuous flow. I meet his gaze steadily, though my eyes are blurred and unfocused. "I have something to tell you, Father."
If it's possible, he's gotten even more troubled by those words. He waits with a patient exterior until I find the strength to go on, but I can tell that inside he's fretting over what exactly I'm about to say.
"It's about Alan. . ." I begin nervously.
"Is Mr. Alan all right?"
I nod, wishing he would just let me speak without interjecting. I know he means well, but it would be so much easier for me if I could just pour out everything without being interrupted. "It's not just about Alan," I announce now, "It's about Virgil too."
Now my father looks confused as well. I know what he's thinking: 'what could Virgil and Alan possibly have to do with what my daughter is trying to tell me?' Trust has always been a huge factor in a relationship for me, and my father brought me up by teaching me that honesty is the best policy. Now I've ruined both those things by breaking Alan's trust and also by not being honest with him from the start, from that very first kiss Virgil and I shared in the darkness of my room.
I take more steadying gasps of air, knowing my father is going to be more than disappointed in me. I decide I should just come out with it and end his apprehension as well as the panicky fluttering of my heart. "Father. . .father, I'm in love with Virgil." There, I said it.
If forged understanding was a drink, my father must have downed the entire Tracy pool worth of it before coming in to talk to me. I can see he's trying to be supportive and his actions express it, but his eyes are perplexed and disbelieving. How is it possible that his precious daughter could be in love with another man when she so plainly loves the one she's with?
Just seeing the expression on his face makes me want to break down and cry again. He doesn't approve and it's devastatingly obvious. If my own father won't support me in this, then who will? What I feel for Virgil is so strong that I can't deny it, even if it means going against my father's view of what is right. I know it was wrong from the beginning, but I wasn't able to fight it. I still can't and probably never will.
I guess Father's just going to have to accept it. And so will Alan and the rest of his family. I know it sounds coldhearted, but I can't help myself! Love is supposed to be a glorious, special thing, and with all this guilt I'm feeling, I can't even enjoy it!
Father looks so lost that I reach over and hug him. "What about Mr. Alan?" He asks after a minute. I knew it was coming.
"He already knows," I reply, rubbing his back reassuringly.
"What did he have to say about it?"
"Not a whole lot, actually. He's mad, father. Very, very mad."
"I can understand that."
"So can I." I sigh and lean back on the bed, resting against the pillows. He takes this as a cue to leave and I wish him a quiet farewell, knowing he has breakfast to prepare.
+++
I spend the rest of the day in my room, hiding from my problems. Virgil came by every hour to see how I was doing, but I locked my door. In all the years I've lived here, not once have I ever felt the need to lock anyone out of my room. Not Alan, not Scott or Gordon or anyone else. And now I'm chaining myself closed just like my door. I don't want to talk to anybody, especially not Virgil.
I know if I see him I'll begin to cry again, and I don't know if I can handle these emotions any longer. I just have to let it run its course, and hopefully stay out of its path.
It's nearly three in the morning when I get up and don my clothes, feeling restless. I put my feet into my slippers and open my door, making sure no one is around to see it unlocked and try to find out what is going on with me. I look down the hallway and, seeing no forms of life whatsoever, silently pad towards the lounge.
I stare at Alan's portrait, desperately wanting to push the button on Mr. Tracy's desk and have one of those heartfelt conversations we've had so many times when he was up in the space station. We'd talk for hours on a different frequency, so his could stay open in case anyone needed help. After those chats, I always felt better, no matter what was happening in my life. Now, when I needed his words the most, he was the person who was pushing me the farthest away.
And the worst part? I deserved it.
+++++++++
Hey, you guys are lucky! You got three parts of this story in one day! Wow, I must be on a roll. Look for more tomorrow :)
Angelina
I stare at the ceiling, my face set like stone. I don't know whether to be grateful Alan found out the way he did or whether to feel broken because he's been brought in on this before we're ready to tell him. On one hand, it saves Virgil and I from the traumatizing discussion we'd have to have with him. On the other, none of us were prepared for what happened, including Alan.
Wishing there was some way I could possibly feel his pain for him, my own heartache begins to get to me and I find tears slipping down my cheeks almost unnoticed. I have strong feelings for Virgil, and deep inside my heart, I think they've always been there somewhere. But Alan is Alan, and when I came to live with the Tracys', he was the first person to take me under his wing and show me around. He was always there for me - a shoulder to cry on, a sweater to lend when I was cold, or an ear to use when I needed to talk.
Is it so wrong to love two men at one time?
Yes, my mind answers. I've gotten myself in too deep and I wonder if my liable feelings will ever cease.
My father raps lightly on my door and I realize I'd been drowning in my thoughts for longer than I knew. I press the button on the side of my bed and the door opens, revealing his worried features. As soon as he sees the tears on my face, he seems to become even more concerned and comes to sit on my bed.
I shut the door, afraid someone will walk by and see me in this state. It's bad enough I'm obviously going to have to explain it to my father alone, but when I have to break the news to the rest of the Tracys, I'm going to need all the support Virgil can give me.
"Tin-Tin, what is wrong?" He asks, taking my hand and looking at me with distress clearly written everywhere on his body.
I take deep, calming breaths, trying to get my tears to stop their continuous flow. I meet his gaze steadily, though my eyes are blurred and unfocused. "I have something to tell you, Father."
If it's possible, he's gotten even more troubled by those words. He waits with a patient exterior until I find the strength to go on, but I can tell that inside he's fretting over what exactly I'm about to say.
"It's about Alan. . ." I begin nervously.
"Is Mr. Alan all right?"
I nod, wishing he would just let me speak without interjecting. I know he means well, but it would be so much easier for me if I could just pour out everything without being interrupted. "It's not just about Alan," I announce now, "It's about Virgil too."
Now my father looks confused as well. I know what he's thinking: 'what could Virgil and Alan possibly have to do with what my daughter is trying to tell me?' Trust has always been a huge factor in a relationship for me, and my father brought me up by teaching me that honesty is the best policy. Now I've ruined both those things by breaking Alan's trust and also by not being honest with him from the start, from that very first kiss Virgil and I shared in the darkness of my room.
I take more steadying gasps of air, knowing my father is going to be more than disappointed in me. I decide I should just come out with it and end his apprehension as well as the panicky fluttering of my heart. "Father. . .father, I'm in love with Virgil." There, I said it.
If forged understanding was a drink, my father must have downed the entire Tracy pool worth of it before coming in to talk to me. I can see he's trying to be supportive and his actions express it, but his eyes are perplexed and disbelieving. How is it possible that his precious daughter could be in love with another man when she so plainly loves the one she's with?
Just seeing the expression on his face makes me want to break down and cry again. He doesn't approve and it's devastatingly obvious. If my own father won't support me in this, then who will? What I feel for Virgil is so strong that I can't deny it, even if it means going against my father's view of what is right. I know it was wrong from the beginning, but I wasn't able to fight it. I still can't and probably never will.
I guess Father's just going to have to accept it. And so will Alan and the rest of his family. I know it sounds coldhearted, but I can't help myself! Love is supposed to be a glorious, special thing, and with all this guilt I'm feeling, I can't even enjoy it!
Father looks so lost that I reach over and hug him. "What about Mr. Alan?" He asks after a minute. I knew it was coming.
"He already knows," I reply, rubbing his back reassuringly.
"What did he have to say about it?"
"Not a whole lot, actually. He's mad, father. Very, very mad."
"I can understand that."
"So can I." I sigh and lean back on the bed, resting against the pillows. He takes this as a cue to leave and I wish him a quiet farewell, knowing he has breakfast to prepare.
+++
I spend the rest of the day in my room, hiding from my problems. Virgil came by every hour to see how I was doing, but I locked my door. In all the years I've lived here, not once have I ever felt the need to lock anyone out of my room. Not Alan, not Scott or Gordon or anyone else. And now I'm chaining myself closed just like my door. I don't want to talk to anybody, especially not Virgil.
I know if I see him I'll begin to cry again, and I don't know if I can handle these emotions any longer. I just have to let it run its course, and hopefully stay out of its path.
It's nearly three in the morning when I get up and don my clothes, feeling restless. I put my feet into my slippers and open my door, making sure no one is around to see it unlocked and try to find out what is going on with me. I look down the hallway and, seeing no forms of life whatsoever, silently pad towards the lounge.
I stare at Alan's portrait, desperately wanting to push the button on Mr. Tracy's desk and have one of those heartfelt conversations we've had so many times when he was up in the space station. We'd talk for hours on a different frequency, so his could stay open in case anyone needed help. After those chats, I always felt better, no matter what was happening in my life. Now, when I needed his words the most, he was the person who was pushing me the farthest away.
And the worst part? I deserved it.
+++++++++
Hey, you guys are lucky! You got three parts of this story in one day! Wow, I must be on a roll. Look for more tomorrow :)
Angelina