Believe me, Kasumi, I understand. You’re not the only person who’s ever lost someone.
The first boy I ever loved got caught in bed with another boy by his parents, and he vanished. The community went wild with gossip, and the one phrase I heard more than anything was “he’s been dealt with”. It’s been nearly sixty years and I still have no idea what happened to him. I was devastated. It felt like there was a piece of me missing, and no matter what I did I would never be whole again. Just thinking about him hurt, like a physical ache.
Two decades after he was gone, I finally ran away from home. I appealed to the shifter population in Denver for help getting a place to live and a job- that’s kind of their specialty, and I didn’t have enough money to do anything on my own. They set me up in an apartment, with an agreement that once I got on my feet I would repay them for the first few months of rent, and arranged a job in a little used bookstore within walking distance.
The guy who owned the place was ancient and white-haired and he could be a real bear sometimes- and I do mean that literally, considering he was a shifter as well. But he cared about the people that walked in the store. Apparently he was the only one willing to take me on.
I didn’t show up to work for weeks, and I think he was willing to give me some space, knowing what I had been through to get there. I spent my days holed up in my apartment in the dark, avoiding the world. They couldn’t hurt me if I avoided them. The people I loved would stop disappearing or deciding I wasn’t good enough if I never bothered to get to know anyone. I hated life. I hated the world. I thought I was better off alone.
And then one day my boss charmed the landlady into letting him into my apartment- it was the seventies, that probably wouldn’t have worked these days. I was furious with him. Just what did he think he was doing, invading my privacy like that? Couldn’t he tell I should wanted to be alone?
Then he grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me in the eye, and said, “Charles, you can’t hide from life every time it hurts you. If you let yourself sit here and suffer in the dark, the people you’ve lost suffer with you. There’s so much joy to be found out there. Let your friendships shield you when the world bares its fangs, and you’ll find that you don’t suffer half as much when you’re hand in hand with the people you love.”
In the face of that incredible kindness, all I could say was that I didn’t have any friends. And you know what he said?
[ He tucks a hand under Kasumi’s chin, lifting her gaze up to meet his. ]
no subject
The first boy I ever loved got caught in bed with another boy by his parents, and he vanished. The community went wild with gossip, and the one phrase I heard more than anything was “he’s been dealt with”. It’s been nearly sixty years and I still have no idea what happened to him. I was devastated. It felt like there was a piece of me missing, and no matter what I did I would never be whole again. Just thinking about him hurt, like a physical ache.
Two decades after he was gone, I finally ran away from home. I appealed to the shifter population in Denver for help getting a place to live and a job- that’s kind of their specialty, and I didn’t have enough money to do anything on my own. They set me up in an apartment, with an agreement that once I got on my feet I would repay them for the first few months of rent, and arranged a job in a little used bookstore within walking distance.
The guy who owned the place was ancient and white-haired and he could be a real bear sometimes- and I do mean that literally, considering he was a shifter as well. But he cared about the people that walked in the store. Apparently he was the only one willing to take me on.
I didn’t show up to work for weeks, and I think he was willing to give me some space, knowing what I had been through to get there. I spent my days holed up in my apartment in the dark, avoiding the world. They couldn’t hurt me if I avoided them. The people I loved would stop disappearing or deciding I wasn’t good enough if I never bothered to get to know anyone. I hated life. I hated the world. I thought I was better off alone.
And then one day my boss charmed the landlady into letting him into my apartment- it was the seventies, that probably wouldn’t have worked these days. I was furious with him. Just what did he think he was doing, invading my privacy like that? Couldn’t he tell I should wanted to be alone?
Then he grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me in the eye, and said, “Charles, you can’t hide from life every time it hurts you. If you let yourself sit here and suffer in the dark, the people you’ve lost suffer with you. There’s so much joy to be found out there. Let your friendships shield you when the world bares its fangs, and you’ll find that you don’t suffer half as much when you’re hand in hand with the people you love.”
In the face of that incredible kindness, all I could say was that I didn’t have any friends. And you know what he said?
[ He tucks a hand under Kasumi’s chin, lifting her gaze up to meet his. ]
He said, “Well, you’ve got me.”