Change is inevitable [Actors' Quarters]
Things had been changing. Time had been passing. The world continued to turn (or at least, De assumed it did. Perhaps it would be more accurate to think that the ship continued to fly, or continued to orbit, or whatever it was currently doing).
And De didn't know what he was doing.
Maybe that was inaccurate. De knew what he was doing - he was improving, apparently; he was making progress. He was learning how to live in a strange new environment, where nothing was what he was used to.
He was learning to live without Carolyn in his life.
He didn't want to accept that she wasn't going to be in his life. Accepting that she was gone forever; that he was never going to turn around and see her standing there, smiling at him. Or that she was never going to get annoyed at him and walk off in a huff, no matter what he said, before reappearing a few minutes later, trite and apologetic - not that she ever needed to be apologetic, De loved and accepted her for who she was, every aspect of her. And he would always love her, no matter what. He didn't want to accept that these things were never going to happen again. It seemed almost inconceivable that it couldn't. She had always been there, almost as long as he could remember. Thinking of a life before her was almost completely like recalling his childhood, with that odd detachment that thinking about that stage of your life brings. A memory of playing marbles or running to school with a dog did not tell you how to live your life. Everything connected with adulthood, with living, with life was all tied up in Carolyn.
It had been so long, De wasn't sure how to act. What he should be doing, how he should be behaving, what was expected of him. The medication was helping, in a general sort of way. He was functioning, at least; he was able and willing to get out and meet new people, on occasion. The therapy he was getting from Dr. Noel was also useful, if he let himself admit it, in any case. He was talking more, opening up more than he ever had done before in general. Maybe that was the therapy. Maybe it was this whole situation - how could you help but to be open with people who were experiencing similar things? People who were just as lost, just as displaced, just as confused. Certainly the close proximity he was now in with Bill and Len was bringing its own kind of openness; more confusion, perhaps, in some cases, but he was trying to let them in more. They were all he had now. The closest thing to a family he had now.
He still felt horribly lonely a lot of the time. Not lonely in one sense - spending time with Bill and Len was pleasant, and distracting, and fun, sure, and he laughed and enjoyed himself. But they had each other, and they needed their time together. De couldn't begrudge them that, and he didn't wish to intrude, at all, in what they got up to. There were people to talk to whereever he seemed to go, and there were roses to spend time with and books to read.
But he was lonely. There was something not there, something missing. De knew it to be Carolyn - to be that companionable presence that had been by his side for all his life, almost.
He didn't know how not to be lonely.
De had chosen today to sit in the main area and read - part of the effort, of trying, of this making progress. Hiding away wasn't going to do him much good whatsoever, but he didn't really feel up to going anywhere else, not even to his roses. Sitting in the relative openess of their living area and reading was about as far as De was willing to go. It would be enough, for today. Maybe tomorrow he would explore somewhere new, or stay safe and hide with the roses. Today, he would read, and think.
And De didn't know what he was doing.
Maybe that was inaccurate. De knew what he was doing - he was improving, apparently; he was making progress. He was learning how to live in a strange new environment, where nothing was what he was used to.
He was learning to live without Carolyn in his life.
He didn't want to accept that she wasn't going to be in his life. Accepting that she was gone forever; that he was never going to turn around and see her standing there, smiling at him. Or that she was never going to get annoyed at him and walk off in a huff, no matter what he said, before reappearing a few minutes later, trite and apologetic - not that she ever needed to be apologetic, De loved and accepted her for who she was, every aspect of her. And he would always love her, no matter what. He didn't want to accept that these things were never going to happen again. It seemed almost inconceivable that it couldn't. She had always been there, almost as long as he could remember. Thinking of a life before her was almost completely like recalling his childhood, with that odd detachment that thinking about that stage of your life brings. A memory of playing marbles or running to school with a dog did not tell you how to live your life. Everything connected with adulthood, with living, with life was all tied up in Carolyn.
It had been so long, De wasn't sure how to act. What he should be doing, how he should be behaving, what was expected of him. The medication was helping, in a general sort of way. He was functioning, at least; he was able and willing to get out and meet new people, on occasion. The therapy he was getting from Dr. Noel was also useful, if he let himself admit it, in any case. He was talking more, opening up more than he ever had done before in general. Maybe that was the therapy. Maybe it was this whole situation - how could you help but to be open with people who were experiencing similar things? People who were just as lost, just as displaced, just as confused. Certainly the close proximity he was now in with Bill and Len was bringing its own kind of openness; more confusion, perhaps, in some cases, but he was trying to let them in more. They were all he had now. The closest thing to a family he had now.
He still felt horribly lonely a lot of the time. Not lonely in one sense - spending time with Bill and Len was pleasant, and distracting, and fun, sure, and he laughed and enjoyed himself. But they had each other, and they needed their time together. De couldn't begrudge them that, and he didn't wish to intrude, at all, in what they got up to. There were people to talk to whereever he seemed to go, and there were roses to spend time with and books to read.
But he was lonely. There was something not there, something missing. De knew it to be Carolyn - to be that companionable presence that had been by his side for all his life, almost.
He didn't know how not to be lonely.
De had chosen today to sit in the main area and read - part of the effort, of trying, of this making progress. Hiding away wasn't going to do him much good whatsoever, but he didn't really feel up to going anywhere else, not even to his roses. Sitting in the relative openess of their living area and reading was about as far as De was willing to go. It would be enough, for today. Maybe tomorrow he would explore somewhere new, or stay safe and hide with the roses. Today, he would read, and think.