Disclaimer: As before
Disclaimer: As before
Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, I had great fun writing those two and I have to say, I was quite pleased with how they turned out so I was delighted to hear you enjoyed them. And so, onto the next one….
Baton Rouge
September 15th 2007
To My Neela
Haha, I've had so many phone calls since you told everyone – funny how a good bit of gossip is enough to get people interested in my welfare! Man, that came out bitter, I didn't mean it to sound like that at all, I was only joking. Everyone who called said they hadn't known whether or not to call before, but kinda came to the conclusion I just wanted to be left alone. Which I suppose in a way is right, it certainly was at the beginning. But it was fantastic to hear from them all. Of course, I'd already spoken to Greg and Morris, but yeah, I had a great chat with Sam, and it was good of Chuny and Frank and the others to call. Everyone seems to think it's about damn time that you and I worked this out; that seemed to be the general consensus.
Talking to everyone made me feel… I don't know. It's difficult to explain. It was sort of nice to hear them sounding concerned, interested. It reminded me – coming so soon after your visit I think, which reminded me even more – of the good things about Chicago, the things and people I miss. It almost made me want to come back. Almost. I think. I don't know. I don't know what I think. I thought at first, in fact, not just at first, I've always thought that I would never want to work at County again, live in Chicago. I was so sure, but now I have to admit, I am less so. I still think I want to make a new start with you somewhere new, fresh, different, but Chicago doesn't fill me with the same hurt and hate as it did. It's weird that something as simple as just the passing of time does that, isn't it? I always thought that "time is a great healer" thing was a load of bollocks but maybe not.
Anyway, what other news do I have for you? PT is going well, I'm doing more and more work with the crutches which is great but it's very hard work, lots of bruises and sore stumps and frustration. It's as tiring as hell and I still need a hot bath every damn night to ease all the aches and pains my in muscles, but I love that I'm getting there. It gives me such a sense of achievement, not to mention the feeling that all the hard work is leading me closer each day to the future with you that I want.
If someone had told me this time last year what was in store for me, then… well, I don't know how I would have handled it to be honest, probably not at all well knowing me. I guess you don't know what you are really capable of until something puts you to the test. The PT is like that every day. When I was in the chair all the time, it seemed like just standing would be this distant point on the horizon and it was this impossible hurdle that I had to overcome. Then the prostheses were fitted and I learnt how to stand again, and that barrier was just gone, and it was on to the next one. My whole life sort of seems like that at the moment, a series of goals, all set out one after the other, until finally I get where I want to be.
I don't mind the work, but I do wish I had a timescale to steer from, even a really vague one. I think I'm driving them at the rehab center crazy, I keep nagging them but I know it's not that simple. They always say the same, that everyone is different and it's a day by day thing, and even though that's true, I still feel like they're fobbing me off. I know they're not, and I'm being frustrated and impatient and probably a royal pain in the ass, but I don't care. I want to know. I want to know how long I have to wait before I can really get stuck into the life I've been waiting for, with you.
I miss you every day. It's amazing that in just two weeks I could get so used to you being here, waking up next to you and seeing you smile and just… Just getting the chance to spend time with you again – I've missed that so much since you moved out of the apartment. I've missed just being near you, and I miss it again now. My pillow still smells of that shampoo you use and I guess I really should wash it sometime – and when I say that, naturally I mean get Mom to wash it – but I kind of like it. I can pretend you're still here with me. I know I'm sounding really quite painfully cheesy by now, but what the Hell. I remember after you left the apartment, gradually the smell of you – your shampoo, your perfume, your burnt cooking(!) – began to fade and I hated that as much as anything else. It meant I had to stop pretending.
I was doing a lot of pretending back then, pretending to you that I was interested in all those other girls, I don't even remember them all now. Pretending I was happy for you with Michael. Pretending to myself that all those other girls were what I wanted, then later, pretending, fooling myself, that sometimes when we would be chilling on the sofa and you would lay your head on my shoulder, or when we were watching a movie you would bury your face in my chest, I would let myself pretend, just for a minute, that you were my girlfriend and that we lived in our own little world, just the two of us. It didn't help, and when it came to it, when I had to stop pretending and tell you how I felt, the night you left, I couldn't do it. I couldn't move it out of my head and into the real world and… well, look what happened.
I guess I should have learnt my lesson, but I think I'll keep the pillowcase for a while longer yet. I don't think it can do any harm this time.
From what I can make out, Mom is missing having you around almost as much as I am. She doesn't say so – I think she's worried that if she admits that she misses you, it will make me miss you even more, which isn't possible, so she needn't worry – but I know her. As you got to see, I can be a grumpy bastard when I'm having one of my bad days and when you were here, it helped both of us. It helped me because, naturally, having you around cheered me up, and Mom because you were someone to talk to, and I think you understood how it made her feel, seeing me like this. Anyway, she said to say hi, so… hi from her.
In my last letter, I couldn't begin to tell you… I couldn't find the words… How I felt when you told me you loved me. I just… My heart stopped. I knew you were going to tell me at some point during the time you were here – it was pretty clear from your letters, you came close to saying it a few times, but I'm so glad you waited. That moment was just magic. I remember standing there; I think I was in pain but I couldn't feel it, and seeing you coming towards me from the arrivals gate and I… Then you came close enough to see me, that I was standing, and you smiled the brightest smile I've ever seen from you, and you just kept coming and threw your arms around me and said those words…
I'm not sure even now, weeks later, when it should have had enough time to sink in, how to describe what I felt right then, but I think the closest I can come up with is "whole". Not only had all the letters been leading us to that point, I agree with you, everything that we've done so far had led us there and the realisation of that was just… fantastic, the best thing on earth. I love you Neela, I love you in a way that I didn't know existed before you, and that you love me like that too… I'm happy. So damn happy I don't even know how to put it into words.
So actually, I'm not going to try, I'm just going to leave it at that and hope you know what I'm trying, and failing miserably, to say. Before I sign off, there is one other thing I wanted to say. Thank you for being so understanding about… you know. Looking back, I can't believe that we didn't, but – damn, I feel like an awkward kid – it wasn't right, not then. When we do, it'll be worth the wait, I'm sure of it.
Good luck with work, I hope everything is going well with you now your intern days are over – again! Keep in touch; even if we speak on the phone, keep writing the letters; except for being with you nothing compares to them.
Love Ray
PS I've told myself not to be such a child and count the days til Christmas, but I'm finding it pretty hard not to.