no post office here. no stamps.
While everyone rests and eats, Charlie writes a letter.
Angel baby,
I may get sentimental. Be forewarned.
I have realized today I am at cross-purposes here. My question for the Landlord is "how do I get home" but if I go home in all likelihood I lose Milliways.
And if I lose Milliways I lose you.
My brother, and his wife and daughter, are the only family I have left. My grandparents and my mum are long gone and I haven't seen my father since I was nine years old so I couldn't tell you if the old bastard is living or dead. (If he's dead, good riddance to him, all I can say.) And I want my family.
Trouble being you're my family too. And David. And Loki. And Richard. And Moiraine and Penny and Meg and Gavroche and everyone here, everyone whose lives have opened to make room for me.
Storge, you called it, yeah? Love of family. I am filled with storge and I don't want to give up any of it, not a one. Not you. Not Jack and Kate and Claire and Hurley and Locke. Not Liam. Least of all, Liam.
I don't want to make the choice but I'm afraid the choice is waiting for me. One man can only walk one pathway, not three.
So here's the point: if it comes down to staying here or going home, I'm going home. I know I said I'd come back and maybe someday I will: maybe I'll walk through a door in Sydney or Manchester or Los Angeles and find myself at the end of the universe again. Maybe not.
But I'm choosing storge over eros, angel baby. Not because I want you any less. I just want my family more.
Well, I think I managed to get through this without saying anything embaressing. I'm absurdly proud of that.
Yours,
Charlie
He rips out the page and folds it in half, writes "Bartleby" on the outside, and put the page away.
Angel baby,
I may get sentimental. Be forewarned.
I have realized today I am at cross-purposes here. My question for the Landlord is "how do I get home" but if I go home in all likelihood I lose Milliways.
And if I lose Milliways I lose you.
My brother, and his wife and daughter, are the only family I have left. My grandparents and my mum are long gone and I haven't seen my father since I was nine years old so I couldn't tell you if the old bastard is living or dead. (If he's dead, good riddance to him, all I can say.) And I want my family.
Trouble being you're my family too. And David. And Loki. And Richard. And Moiraine and Penny and Meg and Gavroche and everyone here, everyone whose lives have opened to make room for me.
Storge, you called it, yeah? Love of family. I am filled with storge and I don't want to give up any of it, not a one. Not you. Not Jack and Kate and Claire and Hurley and Locke. Not Liam. Least of all, Liam.
I don't want to make the choice but I'm afraid the choice is waiting for me. One man can only walk one pathway, not three.
So here's the point: if it comes down to staying here or going home, I'm going home. I know I said I'd come back and maybe someday I will: maybe I'll walk through a door in Sydney or Manchester or Los Angeles and find myself at the end of the universe again. Maybe not.
But I'm choosing storge over eros, angel baby. Not because I want you any less. I just want my family more.
Well, I think I managed to get through this without saying anything embaressing. I'm absurdly proud of that.
Yours,
Charlie
He rips out the page and folds it in half, writes "Bartleby" on the outside, and put the page away.