29. Alistair
Trust is beautiful. And cruel.
To have Pippi stare at me with trust when near the waters.
She fears the waters. And I hate the way fear looks. The way it darkens her gaze and swallows the green in her eyes.
The green that is more than green, because it has other colors in it. But I don’t know the words for them. I’m lucky I remember green.
I don’t understand why some…complex words come back, or stay, when easy ones slip.
The word juxtaposition comes back to me. I’m dozing, and my mind is calm, and the word is there, as though it had never slipped. But I still don’t know the words for all the colors. Or the colorful things that grow in the ground. Or the words to tell Pippi what she is.
But I know juxtaposition . A word I don’t need .
It’s maddening.
I’ve gotten…d-distracted.
Again.
Which is maybe a sign I’m becoming more like me .
“Alistair, your brain is like a six-lane road with no traffic control. Pure. Chaos.”
Indigo’s voice. Laughing. And scolding, because something had slipped from me, although I don’t remember what.
“I couldn’t be inside your head, love. I’d get dizzy.”
“That’s why I have you. To keep me grounded.” My old voice. Speaking with warmth. Love.
It makes my chest hurt. The remembering.
But looking at Pippi makes my chest hurt too.
Because she is asking to join me in the water. And she is not… un afraid. She’s unafraid.
Because she trusts me.
And her trust brings me joy, even as it causes hurt.
Because there is love there too.
Falling in love.
How…a-a-accurate.
It does feel that way: like falling. The same feeling I get when I dive deep in the waters.
Usually when I am fed by the one—a human male, who finds amusement in watching me hunt for my food.
He sends it to the bottom of the waters.
And tells me he will take it away if I don’t find it in time.
So I dive. I don’t want the food, but I hurt without it.
As I dive, my stomach feels strange, as though it doesn’t move with my body.
And I feel that way whenever Pippi looks at me. Whenever I look at her.
The feeling of diving, farther and farther into the waters. But leaving my stomach behind.
Diving in love.
And when she tells me of her life. Trusting me with the things that make her hurt. When she comes to me sad. And lets me make her happy. When she smiles and laughs, and when the joy makes her eyes… bright. When she touches me. Offering comfort. C-c-c-companion…ship. Companionship.
I dive. Deeper and deeper. Until there are no waters left. I’m no longer diving in love. I am in love.
And I suddenly hurt… ache … desire to tell her everything.
The love I’d had before and destroyed. The trust I’d nurtured and shattered.
I want to tell her about these wounds in my heart that will never fully heal.
There is so much I want to say.
So much I can’t.
Because I don’t have the words.
And because the mark above my eye aches, reminding me there are things I am for-for- forbidden from remembering.