InsaneJournal

Current location:	Hyde Park, New York
Current mood:	contemplative
Current music:	Coldplay - The Scientist
Entry tags:	voices in my head

[ViMH] #10: "My life would be better if..."


To say “My life would be better if...” is to conceit that there is something lacking in one’s life already. This might not be the case with everyone. For me, this statement is true: there is something that would make my life better. If I knew my purpose in life and held an exceptional and perfect* union (Perfect in the sense that this is best for us. Not actual perfection) with my brother and wife, my life would be better. Much, much better.

What is the purpose of this question? Is it to help me realize what I’m lacking? Or being how I had an answer before this question was even asked, is it supposed to help me find my answer? I don’t like working in possibilities; I like working in certainties. I like knowing what I can expect from my opposition. I don’t like being blind-sighted. I like knowing where I’m going. I don’t like leaving things to chance. If I succeed, it is because I conducted actions which got me to that destination. I don’t like dallying or going about life without a clue.

Concerning my second want, I have always loved my brother more than I should—at least when it comes to other people’s standards. According to my wife, how I express my love toward him indicates to her that I could (would? was?) be with him in the physical intention of the term. She’s an empath now and I wouldn’t doubt that she has always had something of that ability all of her life. She’s always been good with feelings, putting names on them, expressing them. She has always been sensitive to them. One of us needed to be open to emotions. I’m currently working on that; accepting and making sense of what I’ve ignored up until now. That’s what created this problem.

Recently, Peter and I acknowledged that there was something different between us than what we had always worked from. He says that he knew, was outwardly aware of his feelings (since he was a teenager, mind you), but never acted on them because of me. He doesn’t think I would have reciprocated. And you know what? He’s right. I wouldn’t have. Not at that time in my life.

Now, now I’m afraid what I need from him is too much than what one person should be allowed to require from another. He says his is a greater need, but I will differ. He now knows first hand how I was without him. I broke down, even out of what routine I had previously maintained for years before. There was no more point to what I had been doing.

When he died that first time (technically second for him—I think—after his first time in Odessa), when I saw him, there was no lower that I thought was possible for me to go, but I surpassed that in November. Peter is essentially my heart. He makes me care and makes life worth living. Think what you will about the unhealthiness of this situation, but it is how things are and they cannot be changed. I don’t want them to change.

I am a better person by him. But life is more than this. There are others who own pieces of me, too. Without one, I can never be complete.

Peter and I each have someone we need to find to make amends with. For him, it’s an Irish girl he accidentally left in a hellish future (and no, I am not being metaphorical). And for me, it’s a daughter I never had any real chance with--neither by her mother nor her grandmother. My mother knows I would have done anything to make my own daughter a part of my life, even with the way my life was then. I was in the Navy, young, with parents threatening to cut me out of the family if I had wedded Meredith. Now it seems perfectly clear why my mother did what she did. Peter and I haven’t discussed Claire or our mother’s actions from back then. We talked about what needed to be said that was pertinent now. When I could have said something more, our mother cut into our conversation and then admitted to us that she had known about us for a long time. We used to think she knew so little, was overcome by Dad’s death, but there was more to our mother than that. She’s always known more.

Mom is how we got here. The work she did with Dad and Mr. Linderman and a whole lot of other people. Matthew Parkman’s father. Peter’s former patient, Charles Deveaux, who was also Simone’s father. Makes me wonder now if there was something that we missed about her and that she missed about herself. Adam. Bob Bishop. Kaito Nakamura, father of Hiro, the Japanese man who got one of Linderman’s swords. And another man from a particular picture with my parents, Carlos Mendez. Mendez being the prophetic painter’s father. Yes, we were all getting played and being made to work together. Though some of what happened could not have been caused by strategic plots that were subjected to us by our various family members. I first met Hiro in the middle of the desert outside Vegas. This was before he went after Linderman’s sword. But he had seen the future as he could, as he put it, “bend time and space.” He saw the future where Peter destroyed New York. It is also by Hiro that Peter gained the ability to teleport and time travel. I’m not even sure when he initially met Hiro. The last time in Odessa? They followed such a similar path bent on saving the world and stopping the explosion that I kinda doubt that.

Now I know that I cannot have a clear path without being controlled and I will not be letting myself or anybody else close to me be used again. In that respect, my life is better than it ever was and we’re free from Mom’s control. And if I did know where I was going in my life, there would be other problems there that I wouldn’t want to face. Maybe ones that were worse than what I’m already facing. At the very least, I do have a mission in my life. That’s something. Some people don’t even get that in their lives.