Just One Look
By Valma
Author's note: I couldn't have done this chapter without Anne T's help. She found the poem "Thou Hast Wounded the Spirit That Loved Thee" by Mrs. David Porter (circa - late 1800's?) which sums up Niles' feelings so well for this phase of his life. Eternally grateful Anne! -VJM
Part 9: Wandering in the Fields of Asphodel
Daphne's Diary
Dear Diary:
I love that man!
I really do!
He is so sweet and considerate. He'd do anything for me and always seems to put up with all my foul, hysterical moods.
I am so lucky to have him around.
Without him, I doubt Donny and I would be planning our wedding right now.
I hope he knows that I was truly sincere when I apologized to him tonight.
I wouldn't want to intentionally hurt his feelings - I'm sure he knows that by now. I've already asked forgiveness twice, but I probably should do it again. I was abnormally harsh with him this evening, but then, in my defense I had been going through a particularly tough time, what with that strange vision and all. Still, that's no excuse for the way I treated him really.
My visions have never really given me much worry before, but in this instance they were disturbing enough that I decided to go to Dr. Crane for advice. He is after all, one of my best friends. Oh, I know I could have gone to one of my girlfriends, but they seem so --- well, so silly sometimes, and Dr. Crane is not only very intelligent, but also a very sensitive and a remarkably open-minded, spiritual person for a man of science. I wanted to use him as a sounding board for some difficult decisions I found myself having to make.
You see I had one of me psychic flashes, right after I found out that Donny was planning on asking me to marry him. In it I could see the unmistakable image of the church. The ceremony was about to begin and Donny was standing beside me in a dapper tux. When it came to the part where they ask if there are any objections up popped this --- this person and announced that he was the one true love of my life, though he'd never had the nerve to tell me. I slowly turned in the direction of that voice. Although everything seemed a bit murky, I had a very vivid sense of being frightened by the stark fact that I totally believed in the sincerity of his words. That part was crystal clear even though his voice was unrecognizable and his face was hidden by the deep shadows of the chapel's walls.
Who was this man? Was he a demon sent to bedevil my happiness? Or was he, in fact, the man I was meant to be with? I wanted to move closer to get a better view, but found myself rooted to the spot where I stood. The only distinguishing detail I could make out was that he was wearing this rather large, gaudy red bow tie about his neck. Now, I know that sometimes in visions objects symbolize feelings or mean something more than what they just are, but for the life of me I couldn't place any significance on that item.
The one thing I did know was, that after an extrasensory apparition such as this, I had to question whether I should marry Donny. But it just didn't make any sense to me. I love Donny. He's a great guy and he loves me and he wants to marry me. Why was I the recipient of a cosmic warning like this? Why shouldn't I marry him? I couldn't see any reason really.
But then, on the other hand, it was like every fiber of the metaphysical world was telegraphing me, telling me to wait for this mystery man. I could hardly ignore such an omen, could I? I've always trusted in what they had to say.
It was all so confusing! I needed help sifting through my feelings and Dr. Crane seemed to be the perfect person for me to turn to. At first, when I was in his office, he was very supportive of my intuitive reaction to break it off with Donny. He assured me that my visions were not to be taken lightly and agreed with me that to continue seeing Donny would be unfair to both of us. But he came to me later and told me that he was worried that he may have misled me with that advice. He wanted me to know that I could have had this vision as a result of a very real fear of making a commitment to Donny. He suggested that I re-examine my feelings and make a more rational decision instead of just rejecting Donny on something that amounted to nothing more than getting "cold feet".
Well, with all the pressures of that perplexing dream and both the other Cranes giving me the gears about my gift for foretelling, I was in no mood for his revised judgements. I let him have it - with both barrels! I feel so embarrassed now thinking how I shouted him down, attacking him scornfully, accusing him of being arrogant and unfeeling towards me. I also made it perfectly clear that I would continue to believe in my visions regardless of his or others' opinions of their validity. I was so furious at what I considered to be his condescending attitude that I could barely contain myself. I heard the doorbell ring and knew that Donny had finally arrived to take me out for the evening. I yelled something about one of them letting him in and stormed off to my bedroom to cool off.
Slamming the door of my room, I threw myself down on the bed. I wanted to cry and pound my fists into my pillow - have a real blowout, but then it struck me --- why was I so upset by what Dr. Crane had said? Was it that he had just hit too close to home? The doubts that I had felt before crept up on me again.
Should I follow my psychic intuitions and reject Donny? Or was it like Dr. Crane said - I had this dream because I was frightened of making a commitment. Was I was just trying to find a way out of this proposal by conveniently blaming it on the fates instead of answering a simple question - did I want to marry Donny?
I think now I'm finally ready for marriage. A few years ago, I might have balked, but it's surprising what too much time being single can do for the ripeness of a woman. Lately I had begun to picture myself more and more as a wife --- and even a mother eventually.
It's not like Donny isn't a good enough man. He's kind to me and attentive to my wants and desires. He's intelligent and good at his job. He's ambitious and a real "go for it" kind of guy. I could do a lot worse. I don't see anyone else lining up at my doorstep. And he seems anxious to have children. Not many chaps are willing to take on that sort of responsibility so eagerly. Yes, I could do a lot worse!
But still, the thought of taking such a leap scared me all the same --- it was a pretty big step in one's life. How well did Donny and I know each other actually? We've only been going out for such a short while. Was he really my "one and only" or just the only one who was asking at this point in time? How could I be sure that we weren't going to end up like Mum and Daddy, always brawling and yelling at each other? Would Donny love me if I weren't the "gorgeous", "intelligent" creature that he said I was when we first met? Say I plumped up, or didn't always say the smartest of things? Would there be that secret ingredient in our relationship, that indefinable essence of love that would carry us through the tough times? All these questions kept rattling around in my head.
But it was time to face the music. Donny was waiting in the other room. I smoothed out my dress and ran a brush through my hair. I couldn't keep him waiting any longer.
The tension was off the meter as I came out into the living room. Everybody, including Donny seemed to be walking on eggs. My heart was pounding in my throat as I nervously greeted Donny and he asked everyone to sit down for a moment. I knew he was going to "pop the question" and I started to shake from head to toe. I thought I was going to either faint or throw up.
But all those feelings disappeared as I heard Donny pour his heart out to me in the Crane's living room, with a "full house" in attendance. As I listened, I decided right then and there that what Dr. Crane had said was right - I was just scared, nothing more, and it was time I grew up and --- and what better way to do that, than to say, "I do" to Donny Douglas. I felt a sense of great relief. It was over. I had made my decision. There was no going back now --- no second-guessing myself. I had committed myself to Donny.
As soon as possible I cornered Dr. Crane and told him how grateful I was that he helped me see what I should have seen all along. I was relieved when he wished me well and gave me a hearty hug. But I sensed he was still upset, when later I caught him staring at me with a look that could only be described as a "kicked puppy" face. He barely said two words to me the rest of the evening. In the middle of the champagne toast he excused himself and went off to the bathroom. When he returned his eyes darted around the room several times and then he wandered out onto the balcony. Donny was busy explaining to both Frasier and Mr. Crane the details of our trip to Alaska, so I slipped out to see if Dr. Crane was all right.
"Dr. Crane?" I gently said. "Mind if I join you?"
He shook his head no, but didn't say anything.
We stood there in silence in the cool breeze for a while. The sounds of the city echoed off of the buildings. I heard him take a large gulp of air before he spoke.
"Well, when do you think the big day will be?"
"Oh," I started, "I think it will take a while to plan. There are so many people to contact. I have to phone my family tonight, but just getting them all over here will be a nightmare. You know, from the stories I've told --- they aren't the easiest bunch."
I laughed and glanced over to see if he was going to join me. His eye remained focused on the horizon. But I did see a trace of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth.
I took the opportunity and plunged ahead.
"Dr. Crane ---" I was surprised how shaky I suddenly felt.
"Dr. Crane," I began again. "I want to make sure you know that I consider you my closest friend and I am really so sorry about those things I said to you earlier. I had no right to accuse you of, well - it was rude of me. Please forgive me - really forgive me?"
My hands gripped the rail until I thought I had lost all feeling in them. I held my breath.
He reached out and steadied himself with the help of the railing. Our hands were only inches apart. I had the sudden urge to clasp his hands in mine - just to make sure he knew my sincerity was genuine.
But without warning he turned sharply, drew himself up stiffly and looked me squarely in the face.
"Daphne," he said decisively. "There's no need for you to apologize. I understand what happened tonight. I'm a trained therapist. I know when people are under stress that sometimes things don't always come out right. I wasn't exactly clear earlier today either. There's nothing you said, or did, tonight that could ever come between our friendship. Please --- don't worry about it or give it a second thought."
He gave a brief smile to end his affectionate lecture and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
I didn't know what to say. He sounded so --- so formal. I smiled back and mumbled "Thank you, Dr. Crane."
Just then Donny tapped on the glass of the door summoning us in. A short joke about it being late enough now to get my mum out of bed to phone the good news to her broke any opportunity for further discussion. Things seemed to be wrapping up anyway. Dr. Crane headed towards the door.
I pushed any lingering thoughts that he might still be smarting from my insults to the back of my mind and concentrated on the monumental task of talking to my mother.
Moments later as Donny took the phone from me and we strolled off to the privacy of my bedroom, I turned and gave a backward glance at the departing Dr. Crane and his brother. The two of them didn't notice me, half hidden behind the room's center post, but I had a clear view of them. Frasier put his hand upon his younger brother's shoulder in an obvious gesture of sympathy and shook his head slowly. Dr. Crane's face was grimly earnest as he spoke in a low tone. After returning a muffled comment Frasier gave his brother a heartfelt hug, which ended in a hardy clap on his back. Was this reaction really a result of my earlier explosion? Or was it something more? My conscience won't be fully eased until I apologize once more --- and I'll make him his favourite glazed carrots the next time he is over for supper.
I've got to learn to control my temper! Sometimes I'm like a fire- breathing monster when I get wound up!
Speaking of which, strangely enough I had one more vision tonight. It was similar to the other one, but this time my mystery man was standing at the back of the church holding a dragon in his hands. It wasn't a live dragon - it was a statue, about six inches high and black or dark brown in color. I'm sure now that Dr. Crane was totally right about me just being panicky earlier - imagine me running around looking for red bow ties and dragons! That would be silly!
Well, I had better get some sleep. Donny's been snoring for hours and I want to keep up with him tomorrow when we start planning our nuptials.
Tah-tah, for now Diary!
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My Journey Through Life - Niles Crane
"Thou hast wounded the spirit that loved thee
And cherish'd thine image for years;
Thou hast taught me at last to forget thee,
In secret, in silence, and tears."
Good bye Daphne - adios, sayonara, fare-thee-well and adieu.
Oh, I'm not going anywhere, but it is goodbye all the same.
There's a real ending for me that's come about, a departure of sorts, that definitely signifies a mental distancing though, rather than a physical one. For Daphne --- paradoxically, nothing has changed between us. She'll never even notice, I would suspect.
But I do.
After years of yearning for her and dreaming about her, after hoping beyond all hope that she would find it in herself to feel something more than just friendship for me, I'm giving up. It's finally over. I am facing the fact that this exercise in futility has to end and willingly relegating her to the background of my life. When I say "willingly", it's more of a matter of that I have no choice. I have to back away from her emotionally now. I have to because she is about to become a married woman.
Donny Douglas did, in less than six months, what I wanted to do for nearly six long years, but never could seem to accomplish - he captured her heart.
She will soon become Mrs. Douglas. Mrs. Daphne Douglas, Mrs. Donald Douglas, Mrs. Donald Ronald Douglas - no matter how I say it, it still is a hard pill to swallow!
I can't go back in my mind to that devastating scene without having a rather large glass of hard liquor in my hand. Tonight the choice is brandy ---
I remember all too clearly the numbness I felt creeping over me, as I sat paralyzed on the couch in my brother's apartment, witnessing, slack-jawed all the while, as Donny got down on bended knee and proposed to her. There he was, saying the passionate words that should have been coming out of my mouth --- from deep within my heart! It was him presenting her a ring as symbol of their future commitment to each other and holding her in his arms joyously while she cried tears of acceptance. Him - not me!
I could have sworn all those in the room, Frasier, Dad and the aforementioned "happy couple", could hear the shattering sound of my heart as it splintered into a million pieces. I heard it, and felt it --- but she didn't apparently. Congratulations ringed the room all around as I, in state of dazed stupefaction, lurched aimlessly into the kitchen.
I didn't whine, rant, rend my garments or even shed a tear, actually. That sort of exhibition would have trivialized what had transpired.
You see there is something unique about the absolute suffering that accompanies such an experience.
That type of anguish does afford one a certain clarity, an uncluttered view of what is important in life. It is cleansing in a way, a true catharsis. It's like what a chemist does with a flame - the burning away of the impurities produces something concentrated and potent.
A while back I questioned whether I truly loved Daphne, asked myself if it wasn't just temporary infatuation or a manufactured reaction to living under the oppression of Maris. But in the fire of that brutal moment, when the daily clutter of the minutiae in my life suddenly vaporized, nothing was left except the pure intensity of the love I have for her.
And in that instant I realised also that I had to let her be who she was, and not who I wanted her to be. If I really did love her, I had to be her "good friend" that night above all else. I had to let go of my own selfish desires for her once and for all, give her a embrace and wish her well.
I had to love her enough --- to stop loving her.
It was, as Dad said to me, the "right" thing to do.
It may have been the proper action to take, but it hurt like Hades all the same, at the time. And it still does. I suppose it always will - a little. I still have the occasional dream about her - can't quash my subliminal impulses completely --- yet. The latest one surfaced with the imbibing of too much vodka. She was dancing --- dancing just for me, looking very alluring - but wearing a wedding dress --- I have to stop doing that to myself!
"Though this heart may still cling to thee fondly
And dream of sweet memories past,
Yet hope, like the rainbow of summer,
Gives a promise of Lethe at last."
I knew I couldn't just audaciously interfere with her choice. What right did I have to confront her and demand she change her mind? She was happy with Donny. I wasn't stupid - I could see that.
When she first met him, of course, I didn't want to accept it though. I was convinced that I had a chance and I tried to manipulate the circumstances so that Donny would leave her. I'm not proud of this, but when I found out that Roz regretted splitting up with Donny, I arranged for them to "accidentally" meet up again in hopes of rekindling their relationship. Then, I calculated I would be there ready to proclaim my love for Daphne when Donny conveniently vacated the scene. But my clever ploy didn't work. In fact, it just succeeded in driving them more quickly towards the next level in their relationship. After my little scheme went astray they stole away to a bed and breakfast and had --- had --- I can't even write the word, but suffice it to say they weren't just holding hands. If only I could erase "that" chimera from my mind!
"Thus we're taught in this cold world to smother
Each feeling that once was so dear;
Like that young bird I'll seek to discover
A home of affection elsewhere."
I tried hiding my emotions, still secretly loving her from the sidelines, clinging to the hope that she would wake up some day and see that it was me who deserved her love --- but that didn't work any more than my chicanery involving Roz did. I only ended up dying slowly inside every time I saw Donny and her together. It was torture, pure and simple - my jealousy and rage could never be completely contained and my frustrated displays often ended up embarrassing not only myself, but all others around me as well.
I then sought to purge her from my soul by substituting, in rapid succession, a meaningless parade of other women in my life. But I was really just desperately floundering about, not particularly caring into whose arms I fell into. In hindsight, I know there was no real connection with any of these women. I just couldn't face the lack of Daphne in my life.
First there was Kit - a temporary opiate that I needed to dull the initial pain more than anything else. Our affair was a misguided manifestation of self-deception that left me with a broken boxspring and a wounded woman- child in its wake.
Then there was Jean, the woman with the "birthday" cat, Mr. Waggles. I don't even want to talk about that really. I'll just simply state that that date was what I have always imagined being in purgatory must be like and leave it at that.
That of course, led to my disastrous foray into the escort service game, where I promptly was "hooked" up with Sabrina - a prostitute. Needless to say I gargled until my throat was raw after that unfortunate pairing.
Next came Poppy, who was sweet and bubbling over with ego-inflating flattery, but definitely was not my type when I look back on it. Besides there were "complications" with Frasier that caused a strain on our relationship. Thank God her mother sold the family's interest in KACL and Poppy moved on. I don't think I could have taken her withering looks any longer whenever I went to meet Frasier at the radio station. Apparently Hell hath no fury like an heiress who thinks her date is a two-timing psychiatrist "pervert".
Perhaps with those "successes" added to my romantic résumé I should be glad to just let my love life slip into a dreary oblivion and hope that somehow, over time, I will find a level of comfort with Daphne in my life without feeling the pangs of regret.
Maybe it's just merely that I am fated in matters of love to always wander in the "Fields of Asphodel" rather than inhabit the hallowed "Elysian Fields".
I'm no heroic figure after all. Just a man, who couldn't ever bring himself to say, "I love you Daphne" when it counted the most.
"Injuriarum remedium est oblivio"
(Oblivion is the remedy for injuries) - Seneca
Adieu.
Stay tuned for Part 10 (to be continued)
By Valma
Author's note: I couldn't have done this chapter without Anne T's help. She found the poem "Thou Hast Wounded the Spirit That Loved Thee" by Mrs. David Porter (circa - late 1800's?) which sums up Niles' feelings so well for this phase of his life. Eternally grateful Anne! -VJM
Part 9: Wandering in the Fields of Asphodel
Daphne's Diary
Dear Diary:
I love that man!
I really do!
He is so sweet and considerate. He'd do anything for me and always seems to put up with all my foul, hysterical moods.
I am so lucky to have him around.
Without him, I doubt Donny and I would be planning our wedding right now.
I hope he knows that I was truly sincere when I apologized to him tonight.
I wouldn't want to intentionally hurt his feelings - I'm sure he knows that by now. I've already asked forgiveness twice, but I probably should do it again. I was abnormally harsh with him this evening, but then, in my defense I had been going through a particularly tough time, what with that strange vision and all. Still, that's no excuse for the way I treated him really.
My visions have never really given me much worry before, but in this instance they were disturbing enough that I decided to go to Dr. Crane for advice. He is after all, one of my best friends. Oh, I know I could have gone to one of my girlfriends, but they seem so --- well, so silly sometimes, and Dr. Crane is not only very intelligent, but also a very sensitive and a remarkably open-minded, spiritual person for a man of science. I wanted to use him as a sounding board for some difficult decisions I found myself having to make.
You see I had one of me psychic flashes, right after I found out that Donny was planning on asking me to marry him. In it I could see the unmistakable image of the church. The ceremony was about to begin and Donny was standing beside me in a dapper tux. When it came to the part where they ask if there are any objections up popped this --- this person and announced that he was the one true love of my life, though he'd never had the nerve to tell me. I slowly turned in the direction of that voice. Although everything seemed a bit murky, I had a very vivid sense of being frightened by the stark fact that I totally believed in the sincerity of his words. That part was crystal clear even though his voice was unrecognizable and his face was hidden by the deep shadows of the chapel's walls.
Who was this man? Was he a demon sent to bedevil my happiness? Or was he, in fact, the man I was meant to be with? I wanted to move closer to get a better view, but found myself rooted to the spot where I stood. The only distinguishing detail I could make out was that he was wearing this rather large, gaudy red bow tie about his neck. Now, I know that sometimes in visions objects symbolize feelings or mean something more than what they just are, but for the life of me I couldn't place any significance on that item.
The one thing I did know was, that after an extrasensory apparition such as this, I had to question whether I should marry Donny. But it just didn't make any sense to me. I love Donny. He's a great guy and he loves me and he wants to marry me. Why was I the recipient of a cosmic warning like this? Why shouldn't I marry him? I couldn't see any reason really.
But then, on the other hand, it was like every fiber of the metaphysical world was telegraphing me, telling me to wait for this mystery man. I could hardly ignore such an omen, could I? I've always trusted in what they had to say.
It was all so confusing! I needed help sifting through my feelings and Dr. Crane seemed to be the perfect person for me to turn to. At first, when I was in his office, he was very supportive of my intuitive reaction to break it off with Donny. He assured me that my visions were not to be taken lightly and agreed with me that to continue seeing Donny would be unfair to both of us. But he came to me later and told me that he was worried that he may have misled me with that advice. He wanted me to know that I could have had this vision as a result of a very real fear of making a commitment to Donny. He suggested that I re-examine my feelings and make a more rational decision instead of just rejecting Donny on something that amounted to nothing more than getting "cold feet".
Well, with all the pressures of that perplexing dream and both the other Cranes giving me the gears about my gift for foretelling, I was in no mood for his revised judgements. I let him have it - with both barrels! I feel so embarrassed now thinking how I shouted him down, attacking him scornfully, accusing him of being arrogant and unfeeling towards me. I also made it perfectly clear that I would continue to believe in my visions regardless of his or others' opinions of their validity. I was so furious at what I considered to be his condescending attitude that I could barely contain myself. I heard the doorbell ring and knew that Donny had finally arrived to take me out for the evening. I yelled something about one of them letting him in and stormed off to my bedroom to cool off.
Slamming the door of my room, I threw myself down on the bed. I wanted to cry and pound my fists into my pillow - have a real blowout, but then it struck me --- why was I so upset by what Dr. Crane had said? Was it that he had just hit too close to home? The doubts that I had felt before crept up on me again.
Should I follow my psychic intuitions and reject Donny? Or was it like Dr. Crane said - I had this dream because I was frightened of making a commitment. Was I was just trying to find a way out of this proposal by conveniently blaming it on the fates instead of answering a simple question - did I want to marry Donny?
I think now I'm finally ready for marriage. A few years ago, I might have balked, but it's surprising what too much time being single can do for the ripeness of a woman. Lately I had begun to picture myself more and more as a wife --- and even a mother eventually.
It's not like Donny isn't a good enough man. He's kind to me and attentive to my wants and desires. He's intelligent and good at his job. He's ambitious and a real "go for it" kind of guy. I could do a lot worse. I don't see anyone else lining up at my doorstep. And he seems anxious to have children. Not many chaps are willing to take on that sort of responsibility so eagerly. Yes, I could do a lot worse!
But still, the thought of taking such a leap scared me all the same --- it was a pretty big step in one's life. How well did Donny and I know each other actually? We've only been going out for such a short while. Was he really my "one and only" or just the only one who was asking at this point in time? How could I be sure that we weren't going to end up like Mum and Daddy, always brawling and yelling at each other? Would Donny love me if I weren't the "gorgeous", "intelligent" creature that he said I was when we first met? Say I plumped up, or didn't always say the smartest of things? Would there be that secret ingredient in our relationship, that indefinable essence of love that would carry us through the tough times? All these questions kept rattling around in my head.
But it was time to face the music. Donny was waiting in the other room. I smoothed out my dress and ran a brush through my hair. I couldn't keep him waiting any longer.
The tension was off the meter as I came out into the living room. Everybody, including Donny seemed to be walking on eggs. My heart was pounding in my throat as I nervously greeted Donny and he asked everyone to sit down for a moment. I knew he was going to "pop the question" and I started to shake from head to toe. I thought I was going to either faint or throw up.
But all those feelings disappeared as I heard Donny pour his heart out to me in the Crane's living room, with a "full house" in attendance. As I listened, I decided right then and there that what Dr. Crane had said was right - I was just scared, nothing more, and it was time I grew up and --- and what better way to do that, than to say, "I do" to Donny Douglas. I felt a sense of great relief. It was over. I had made my decision. There was no going back now --- no second-guessing myself. I had committed myself to Donny.
As soon as possible I cornered Dr. Crane and told him how grateful I was that he helped me see what I should have seen all along. I was relieved when he wished me well and gave me a hearty hug. But I sensed he was still upset, when later I caught him staring at me with a look that could only be described as a "kicked puppy" face. He barely said two words to me the rest of the evening. In the middle of the champagne toast he excused himself and went off to the bathroom. When he returned his eyes darted around the room several times and then he wandered out onto the balcony. Donny was busy explaining to both Frasier and Mr. Crane the details of our trip to Alaska, so I slipped out to see if Dr. Crane was all right.
"Dr. Crane?" I gently said. "Mind if I join you?"
He shook his head no, but didn't say anything.
We stood there in silence in the cool breeze for a while. The sounds of the city echoed off of the buildings. I heard him take a large gulp of air before he spoke.
"Well, when do you think the big day will be?"
"Oh," I started, "I think it will take a while to plan. There are so many people to contact. I have to phone my family tonight, but just getting them all over here will be a nightmare. You know, from the stories I've told --- they aren't the easiest bunch."
I laughed and glanced over to see if he was going to join me. His eye remained focused on the horizon. But I did see a trace of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth.
I took the opportunity and plunged ahead.
"Dr. Crane ---" I was surprised how shaky I suddenly felt.
"Dr. Crane," I began again. "I want to make sure you know that I consider you my closest friend and I am really so sorry about those things I said to you earlier. I had no right to accuse you of, well - it was rude of me. Please forgive me - really forgive me?"
My hands gripped the rail until I thought I had lost all feeling in them. I held my breath.
He reached out and steadied himself with the help of the railing. Our hands were only inches apart. I had the sudden urge to clasp his hands in mine - just to make sure he knew my sincerity was genuine.
But without warning he turned sharply, drew himself up stiffly and looked me squarely in the face.
"Daphne," he said decisively. "There's no need for you to apologize. I understand what happened tonight. I'm a trained therapist. I know when people are under stress that sometimes things don't always come out right. I wasn't exactly clear earlier today either. There's nothing you said, or did, tonight that could ever come between our friendship. Please --- don't worry about it or give it a second thought."
He gave a brief smile to end his affectionate lecture and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
I didn't know what to say. He sounded so --- so formal. I smiled back and mumbled "Thank you, Dr. Crane."
Just then Donny tapped on the glass of the door summoning us in. A short joke about it being late enough now to get my mum out of bed to phone the good news to her broke any opportunity for further discussion. Things seemed to be wrapping up anyway. Dr. Crane headed towards the door.
I pushed any lingering thoughts that he might still be smarting from my insults to the back of my mind and concentrated on the monumental task of talking to my mother.
Moments later as Donny took the phone from me and we strolled off to the privacy of my bedroom, I turned and gave a backward glance at the departing Dr. Crane and his brother. The two of them didn't notice me, half hidden behind the room's center post, but I had a clear view of them. Frasier put his hand upon his younger brother's shoulder in an obvious gesture of sympathy and shook his head slowly. Dr. Crane's face was grimly earnest as he spoke in a low tone. After returning a muffled comment Frasier gave his brother a heartfelt hug, which ended in a hardy clap on his back. Was this reaction really a result of my earlier explosion? Or was it something more? My conscience won't be fully eased until I apologize once more --- and I'll make him his favourite glazed carrots the next time he is over for supper.
I've got to learn to control my temper! Sometimes I'm like a fire- breathing monster when I get wound up!
Speaking of which, strangely enough I had one more vision tonight. It was similar to the other one, but this time my mystery man was standing at the back of the church holding a dragon in his hands. It wasn't a live dragon - it was a statue, about six inches high and black or dark brown in color. I'm sure now that Dr. Crane was totally right about me just being panicky earlier - imagine me running around looking for red bow ties and dragons! That would be silly!
Well, I had better get some sleep. Donny's been snoring for hours and I want to keep up with him tomorrow when we start planning our nuptials.
Tah-tah, for now Diary!
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My Journey Through Life - Niles Crane
"Thou hast wounded the spirit that loved thee
And cherish'd thine image for years;
Thou hast taught me at last to forget thee,
In secret, in silence, and tears."
Good bye Daphne - adios, sayonara, fare-thee-well and adieu.
Oh, I'm not going anywhere, but it is goodbye all the same.
There's a real ending for me that's come about, a departure of sorts, that definitely signifies a mental distancing though, rather than a physical one. For Daphne --- paradoxically, nothing has changed between us. She'll never even notice, I would suspect.
But I do.
After years of yearning for her and dreaming about her, after hoping beyond all hope that she would find it in herself to feel something more than just friendship for me, I'm giving up. It's finally over. I am facing the fact that this exercise in futility has to end and willingly relegating her to the background of my life. When I say "willingly", it's more of a matter of that I have no choice. I have to back away from her emotionally now. I have to because she is about to become a married woman.
Donny Douglas did, in less than six months, what I wanted to do for nearly six long years, but never could seem to accomplish - he captured her heart.
She will soon become Mrs. Douglas. Mrs. Daphne Douglas, Mrs. Donald Douglas, Mrs. Donald Ronald Douglas - no matter how I say it, it still is a hard pill to swallow!
I can't go back in my mind to that devastating scene without having a rather large glass of hard liquor in my hand. Tonight the choice is brandy ---
I remember all too clearly the numbness I felt creeping over me, as I sat paralyzed on the couch in my brother's apartment, witnessing, slack-jawed all the while, as Donny got down on bended knee and proposed to her. There he was, saying the passionate words that should have been coming out of my mouth --- from deep within my heart! It was him presenting her a ring as symbol of their future commitment to each other and holding her in his arms joyously while she cried tears of acceptance. Him - not me!
I could have sworn all those in the room, Frasier, Dad and the aforementioned "happy couple", could hear the shattering sound of my heart as it splintered into a million pieces. I heard it, and felt it --- but she didn't apparently. Congratulations ringed the room all around as I, in state of dazed stupefaction, lurched aimlessly into the kitchen.
I didn't whine, rant, rend my garments or even shed a tear, actually. That sort of exhibition would have trivialized what had transpired.
You see there is something unique about the absolute suffering that accompanies such an experience.
That type of anguish does afford one a certain clarity, an uncluttered view of what is important in life. It is cleansing in a way, a true catharsis. It's like what a chemist does with a flame - the burning away of the impurities produces something concentrated and potent.
A while back I questioned whether I truly loved Daphne, asked myself if it wasn't just temporary infatuation or a manufactured reaction to living under the oppression of Maris. But in the fire of that brutal moment, when the daily clutter of the minutiae in my life suddenly vaporized, nothing was left except the pure intensity of the love I have for her.
And in that instant I realised also that I had to let her be who she was, and not who I wanted her to be. If I really did love her, I had to be her "good friend" that night above all else. I had to let go of my own selfish desires for her once and for all, give her a embrace and wish her well.
I had to love her enough --- to stop loving her.
It was, as Dad said to me, the "right" thing to do.
It may have been the proper action to take, but it hurt like Hades all the same, at the time. And it still does. I suppose it always will - a little. I still have the occasional dream about her - can't quash my subliminal impulses completely --- yet. The latest one surfaced with the imbibing of too much vodka. She was dancing --- dancing just for me, looking very alluring - but wearing a wedding dress --- I have to stop doing that to myself!
"Though this heart may still cling to thee fondly
And dream of sweet memories past,
Yet hope, like the rainbow of summer,
Gives a promise of Lethe at last."
I knew I couldn't just audaciously interfere with her choice. What right did I have to confront her and demand she change her mind? She was happy with Donny. I wasn't stupid - I could see that.
When she first met him, of course, I didn't want to accept it though. I was convinced that I had a chance and I tried to manipulate the circumstances so that Donny would leave her. I'm not proud of this, but when I found out that Roz regretted splitting up with Donny, I arranged for them to "accidentally" meet up again in hopes of rekindling their relationship. Then, I calculated I would be there ready to proclaim my love for Daphne when Donny conveniently vacated the scene. But my clever ploy didn't work. In fact, it just succeeded in driving them more quickly towards the next level in their relationship. After my little scheme went astray they stole away to a bed and breakfast and had --- had --- I can't even write the word, but suffice it to say they weren't just holding hands. If only I could erase "that" chimera from my mind!
"Thus we're taught in this cold world to smother
Each feeling that once was so dear;
Like that young bird I'll seek to discover
A home of affection elsewhere."
I tried hiding my emotions, still secretly loving her from the sidelines, clinging to the hope that she would wake up some day and see that it was me who deserved her love --- but that didn't work any more than my chicanery involving Roz did. I only ended up dying slowly inside every time I saw Donny and her together. It was torture, pure and simple - my jealousy and rage could never be completely contained and my frustrated displays often ended up embarrassing not only myself, but all others around me as well.
I then sought to purge her from my soul by substituting, in rapid succession, a meaningless parade of other women in my life. But I was really just desperately floundering about, not particularly caring into whose arms I fell into. In hindsight, I know there was no real connection with any of these women. I just couldn't face the lack of Daphne in my life.
First there was Kit - a temporary opiate that I needed to dull the initial pain more than anything else. Our affair was a misguided manifestation of self-deception that left me with a broken boxspring and a wounded woman- child in its wake.
Then there was Jean, the woman with the "birthday" cat, Mr. Waggles. I don't even want to talk about that really. I'll just simply state that that date was what I have always imagined being in purgatory must be like and leave it at that.
That of course, led to my disastrous foray into the escort service game, where I promptly was "hooked" up with Sabrina - a prostitute. Needless to say I gargled until my throat was raw after that unfortunate pairing.
Next came Poppy, who was sweet and bubbling over with ego-inflating flattery, but definitely was not my type when I look back on it. Besides there were "complications" with Frasier that caused a strain on our relationship. Thank God her mother sold the family's interest in KACL and Poppy moved on. I don't think I could have taken her withering looks any longer whenever I went to meet Frasier at the radio station. Apparently Hell hath no fury like an heiress who thinks her date is a two-timing psychiatrist "pervert".
Perhaps with those "successes" added to my romantic résumé I should be glad to just let my love life slip into a dreary oblivion and hope that somehow, over time, I will find a level of comfort with Daphne in my life without feeling the pangs of regret.
Maybe it's just merely that I am fated in matters of love to always wander in the "Fields of Asphodel" rather than inhabit the hallowed "Elysian Fields".
I'm no heroic figure after all. Just a man, who couldn't ever bring himself to say, "I love you Daphne" when it counted the most.
"Injuriarum remedium est oblivio"
(Oblivion is the remedy for injuries) - Seneca
Adieu.
Stay tuned for Part 10 (to be continued)
