Regeneration X (24 page)

“I know. Just a little while, a couple of weeks,” I said defensively, annoyed with both her for saying it and me for the reality of being me. Why had I waited to tell Parker? I asked myself.

March 31, 2026

Inez is right, about a lot of things, but specifically that this was always going to happen. I feel very sorry for having hurt him. Am I heartless for not feeling so hurt myself? I’ve been wondering how I could even continue going out with Parker if I loved Michael. Maybe this answers that question and I need to see where Michael is in his ‘test of us.’ Or does it? I didn’t really break up with Parker because of Michael. So maybe since my secret is out I should wait to see what Parker comes back with. It might be too early to give up. Michael and I are only going to get one more shot. I have to be sure.

The other not-so-comfortable facts staring me in the face were that I did wait to tell Parker and why. I did it because without Parker, my reception with the collective wouldn’t exist. This is Miles all over again.
 

I’m not only selfish I’m vain. I want to know why a man like him finds me attractive. Why did/does Michael?

Then Parker said I ‘say odd things.’ True, I’ve mentioned a few things that I hoped would be interpreted as Americanisms, but he also said I speak ‘proper-like.’ I wonder if the ‘way’ I speak is what’s odd. It gives me away more than ‘what’ I say. Will this ever change, or is my mind so formed to its mold that it is already cast and I can’t remold it?

All this time I’ve only been trying to remember old stories. I haven’t remembered myself, the person I used to be. I was carefree, fun, and not so uptight.

In my youthful body, I can move in ways I couldn’t before, but as I found in class, I can’t really. I cannot learn to move differently. My actions on stage seem so affected, I sense it, but can’t do anything about it. There are ups and downs. I wonder if I’m on a peak or in a valley. It’s hard to tell. For the first time since I came here, the first time since my Renovation, I’m sad and afraid to admit I might regret this. There is so much more than just going back to school and earning a new degree.

Could my comfortable, predictable life before have changed a little to make room for something new? There is no point in thinking this way. I have to remember, there is no going back to the way things were.

Speaking of remembering, I tried to start a memory journal. I couldn’t recall much of my first youth, especially the years prior to 26, before Miles and my philosophical youth. And there wasn’t much to write about for my 40s and 50s, either. I don’t know if this is another consequence of CR, but I don’t think so. I would have probably had a hard time remembering those years of my life, even before.

If I were writing a POV article now I would put some energy into learning how much time needs to pass before long-term memories begin to fade and the details disappear, and when they are gone for good without retaining the ability to recollect something even when reminded. If I had the time or the energy, I’d research this anyway.

Chapter Twenty-one

My dreams will, sure,

prove ominous to the day.

—William Shakespeare,
Troilus and Cressida (5.3)

・
・
・

ISN’T IT SO STRANGE HOW WHEN YOU are with someone others are drawn to you, and when you are alone it seems no one in the world will ever be? I bring this up because not long ago I was dating Parker; I’m still married to Michael, and we are together but not actually. Then Miles called.
 

The last time Miles and I spoke and actually heard each other’s voice must have been over ten years ago. Otherwise, I hadn’t even e-spoken to him since December of last year. I heard his voice and it gave me a little twinge of something. It was like the feeling you get going down a steep roller coaster, a fleeting rush deep in the pit of your stomach, neither pleasant nor unwelcome.
 

His call was a fluke since I had made no such: “Hey, I turned my life upside down, backwards, forwards, and inside out, in case you were interested” announcement. But somehow, he discovered I was in London. Our conversation was brief, but the gist was he was coming to town and wanted to get together.

I do not have a trace of romantic interest left in Miles; however, I hadn’t seen him in over 25 years, either. So while I think this, until I see him, I can’t be 100% sure. I don’t believe I’m at the risk of falling in love with the 50-plus year-old him, but it still makes me a tad nervous since I was rather susceptible once. He would be quite surprised to see the youthful me restored, and this makes me feel a bit self-conscious, too.

When I was bored, I anticipated a friendly reunion. I wanted to feel a spark of male attention then, which Miles would have obliged with in charm if not true interest. Now, not so much. I feel rather overwhelmed by all the male-female dynamics. Besides, the expressions of amazement still irk me and I no longer need anyone else to make me feel special. I’ve come to terms with being a PTT (personal timeline traveler), a self-coined phrase. I’m thinking of getting business cards made, my own little halo.

Regardless, since he’d tried to reach out a few times, we decided to meet up over dinner soon. He’s here on a six-month contract working on managing a new branch opening of a business, so we have some time. But I’d rather get this over with, just to be past it.

I wish Becks were here. She’s really the only person I can talk to about Miles. Although I’ve spoken with Inez, she doesn’t relate as well in circumstances such as this. Even her first instinct was to advise me to speak to Becks instead. To complicate matters, my confusions are not about Miles alone. It’s Michael and relationships in general, so this includes Parker, or anyone else in the future, combined with CR. My situation with Michael is still so uncertain. Do I love him and shouldn’t I know this much by now? Does he love me, and does he know and he’s not telling me?

“I’ve been thinking lately, Michael is Dr. Baum’s patient. I know there’s the whole confidentiality thing, but I don’t know if I feel comfortable talking to Dr. Baum about romantic relationships. I think I need to talk to someone though,” I voiced to Inez.

“You could video chat with Becks the same as you would Dr. Baum,” Inez said. “But it’s about more than your date with Miles. I know.”

“Inez! It’s not a date.”

“If you say so,” she laughed.

I glared.

“Moving on. Has Dr. Baum ever told you anything about me? Because you can see there if the privacy between patient and doctor is secure,” she said.

“No, he’s only ever mentioned you once in acknowledgement when I told him you suggested I go to him. For that matter, I tell you pretty much everything. Don’t you feel like you could talk to me? Why do you need a therapist? Cause it’s not just once in a while, you talk to him regularly.”

“I knew this would come up eventually. Charley, I have always appreciated your view of me as levelheaded and content with the world and myself, so I’ve kept some things from you. It’s kind of the thing people say when they die, you know, how they want to be remembered?”

“Keeping things from me? Die? You’re scaring the bejesus out of me right now!” I said.

“Ha! Sorry. I guess that did sound bad. No, nothing fatal, I was just making a point about how people perceive people and your current impression of me. As a matter of fact, I haven’t told Becks about this either.”

“Whew,” I said relaxing. “Well, you’ve a right to your privacy, so no pressure. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but if it’s something serious …” I expressed incompletely and began again. “I promise, my impression of you will not change. I would be glad to be some extra support, just as you are to me. It’s completely your choice, but I feel I don’t know you as well as you know me.”

“Hmmm, so what you’re saying is, we aren’t as close as you’d like to believe because I’m not as open with you as you are with me.”

Although she phrased her last remark as a realization, I responded as if she’d asked. “Well, you don’t have to tell me everything, but yeah, if there is something big for which you need regular therapy, then our friendship is rather one-sided.”

“It’s serious to me, so I guess now is as good a time as any to explain. Errr Wait. Don’t you think you have enough to worry about for the moment?”
 

“Inez! There are only a few people in the world who I truly want to, and can, make endless room in my head for. I don’t need to tell you that you are one,” I said encouraging her to continue.

“Okay. To start, I’ve been seeing Dr. Baum since I moved to Seattle. Before him, there was another therapist in Halifax. This is going to be a shock, but there are three reasons I see Dr. Baum and write in my journals.

“Remember you described being on medication like being a puppet? For all the conversations we’ve had about pharmaceuticals, I lied. I am a sort of marionette being pulled by strings. I am on anti-depressants, and high doses at that. You see, I am bi-polar. The way you see me makes me feel like it’s not really so bad or that I can overcome it,” she paused, waiting for my reaction.

“Oh, I’m sorry! My big mouth.”

“No, see, this is why I didn’t tell you in the first place. I don’t want you to be reserved around me. I wouldn’t know you if you held back your philosophy of the world. And it’s my philosophy, too, except when it’s absolutely necessary—and this is.”

“I see, okay. So now, you don’t have to hide either, at least from me. I’m not cut and dry you know. I took the drugs they prescribed when I had CR, remember? What are the other two things?”

“For these two you are going to have to wait until I finish before you react,” she ominously premised.

“So, you know I somehow cannot feel love right?” she asked rhetorically. “Well, I thought for a long time I was gay. This is number two. I have never been all that interested in men, but my friendships, however, have always been with men. Lesbians often don’t like men
in general
, so I always found my friendly affinity and romantic disinterest confusing. When I met you, I thought I was falling in love. With
you
. As far as feelings go, it felt no different from if you were a man. And that’s three,” she paused, but I knew from her closed posture she didn’t want me to assume she was done talking.

“Thus, Dr. Baum. I really didn’t care one way or the other whether I was gay or not. I just needed to know. I’ve been on dates with men and women trying to figure it out myself. I never could. I felt nothing. And without my Zoloft, I feel like a shell of a person. With Dr. Baum’s help I know I am not gay, but the reality is I wish I was, because otherwise not only do I feel empty, but like everything I am is just a facade. I can feel myself smiling, when I have nothing to smile about. The strings tug at the corners of my mouth so I play along. But I require the therapy to keep me sane, sometimes to keep me wanting to live.

“Even if I can’t love people I want to love living, but more than half the time I can’t see the point,” Inez concluded.

After a long pause to absorb these revelations, I said, “I know words are just words without the thoughts and feelings behind them, but while you say you are incapable of love, speaking for myself, I feel loved by you. And I hope I’m an example that not all caring has to be romantic, because I love you in return. If you did love me in that way, it would have been me who couldn’t have returned it.
 

“I believe you’re fully able to give love, and perhaps it’s a matter of
you
being able to receive it. It’s not for me to tell you how to feel or define the depth of your feelings, but the way I see it, you care and, therefore, you love. Others care about you and I hope you are working with Dr. Baum to recognize this fact.”

Inez reached over and embraced me. “I know all this now. It doesn’t mean I don’t wish I were different.”

She looked sad and defeated. “The hardest part for me to accept is I can’t change anything, I can’t heal this,” she said, pointing two fingers at her temple and resting another hand on her sternum and left breast.

 
“Hopefully someday you can accept yourself the way you are. Until and long after that I’ll be here whenever you need me and you don’t have to hide anything from me,” I said consolingly.

“Don’t feel sorry for me. I do enough of that myself.”

“I don’t. I was just saying I understand.”

So just making sure … I’d really like for this to not have changed anything between us?”

“Nothing.” The truth would do harm, so I lied.

April 7, 2026

Diary, it’s not Thanksgiving, but I am thankful for you. With this out of the way, crikey! The assumptions I’ve made. I can’t help but feel I don’t really know Inez. She’s a walking, talking social media profile. There, I’ve said it! I’ve only seen what she’s wanted me to see. Horrible, horrible thing to say, but I can’t really say this to her, can I?

I want to be supportive, but now that I know our friendship is only skin-deep and she wants it to remain this way, do I ignore it and carry on as usual? It feels as if I’ve lost her—or someone I thought was her. Maybe it will be different now; she didn’t have to tell me.

I want to tell her she is acting, too—just like me hiding 35 years of my life. If only I could express how liberating it is to be complete. Still, as I write this, I know that for me it was an unnecessary façade. But for Inez, her strategy is her sanity. It is the difference between life and death, so it wouldn’t be very friendish of me even to bring it up. Besides, I’m sure she’s discovered a lot about herself already with Dr. Baum.

I also wonder if her depression stems from feeling alone and away from home. I’d like to ask her when it started. When she left Quebec? She said her last therapist was in Halifax. Other than Becks and I, and a few not-so-close friends, Inez has no one, and without Becks here she has no family nearby, either. Honestly, I’m a little afraid of making suggestions. This is not exactly a topic to banter about. I’ve shared some shocking news with her before, but it was never personal. I don’t know how she would react if I started psychoanalyzing her. I’m not Dr. Baum.