I do not own I Think We're alone Now.
It is just absolute perfection and I love it.
Home Becomes You
Grace is a Megaphone, Del is Silent Film
"She was a person."
Yes.
And now she's not.
But then.
This one.
This girl.
Blond and young.
Alive.
Just like him.
Alive.
Well, weird and alive.
She pushed. She always pushed.
She pushed his levels of comfort, all the time.
Because she was alive and herself.
Sometimes loud and crass, sometimes playfully argumentative and insistent in her thoughts and opinions.
She took up the space she was in, something the singularly abiding Del had never consistently had to deal with.
Other people made him irritated, other people made him nervous.
They were something to manage, something to engage.
They were a chore.
And so . . .
". . . the next day, that's their thing!"
. . . was she.
And . . .
And . . .
It's okay.
He was learning to accept it.
"What do you miss most?"
It was a small town.
Usually no hot-rodding teenagers or blasting music.
The local constable didn't allow it.
So there were cars and people and the rubble of everyday life.
And when they all died, it had gone silent.
Just cut off, just gone.
And when the electricity had gone, all the machinery hums and clicks and dings and groans had also gone away.
The library, at least his sleeping and living quarters, were concrete blocked so it didn't settle much.
He obviously didn't weigh much and concrete floor didn't creak or groan.
If he so wished, he could go for days on end with hardly a sound.
And so, his answer was fairly . . .
"The quiet."
"What?"
"Nothing."
. . . predictable.
I cackled when Del said "The quiet" and pointed at my husband.
He just grinned and nodded.
It makes sense.
We have three kids.
And I'm definitely a Grace.
And he's definitely a mental Del.
Love you, baby.
;)