We're Both Still Alive

“Hey. I thought I saw you slip out here.”

“Did anybody else see?”

“Will might’ve noticed, but nobody else as far as I know.”

“Good.”

“So, what brings you out here to brood?”

“Wha—I’m not brooding!”

“Jay, darling. Yes you are.”

“Am not—I’m not having this argument with you.”

“Fair enough. So what’s on your mind?”

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“You wouldn’t be out here staring at your lighter like you want a smoke if there wasn’t.”

*sigh* “Touché, I guess.”

“So?”

“I… just have a lot on my mind.”

“Want to get some of it off?”

“You’re sweet Ay, but I don’t think you can help.”

“Can’t know that for sure until you ask.”

“You’re not gonna leave me alone until I spill my guts, are you.”

“Well, I’m not leaving you alone in general. But yeah, I’m gonna push you to talk rather than bottle it up like usual.”

“I—I’m honestly feeling very attacked right now.”

“You know you love me though.”

“You’re still a brat.”

“And you’re deflecting.”

“… Dammit, you know me too well.”

“And Basil’s told me how you try to avoid conversations like these.”

“Then I had no chance from the beginning, huh.”

“Nope.”

*sigh*

A pause

“Can I take a guess?”

“Go ahead.”

“You’re avoiding them.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“… Because I’m tired of them expecting me to be somebody I’m not, somebody I don’t even remember. They all look at me and expect me to just fall right back into the role of their friend, their brother, their—ugh. But it’s been four years Ay. What am I supposed to do, stay the same for four fucking years?”

“No. Especially not in your case.”

“I knew there was a reason why I like you the most out of anyone here.”

“Yes, only because I’m the only one who acknowledges your amnesia and disappearance. Not because I knew you for three of the years you didn’t have your memories and still treat you like the Jay I know.”

“Exactly.”

“Pfft.”

“Heh. But… that’s the thing, Ay. I hardly remember any of them, much less who I’m supposed to be to them. Like, I have more memories of Will from these past four years than I do from before that, and he’s my twin brother. And then every time I run into somebody who recognizes me, I have this moment of panic, like “Who the hell are you and how am I supposed to know you?” And even if I say something like “Hey, my memory’s a little spotty,” they either keep going and assume they’re important enough for me to remember, or else it derails everything and I’m stuck while they’re fawning over me and pitying me.

“Like, I’m sorry, but no. I lost every memory of the first sixteen years of my life and I’m only now getting bits and pieces back, don’t assume you’re special. And the pity’s just like, come on, amnesia isn’t even on my top 10 list of worst things to happen to me, and I don’t even want pity for the things on that list. Just, back off, calm down, and just treat me like some stranger, please.”

“… Got that out of your system?”

“Yes. Maybe.”

“Feel any better?”

“I… don’t know. I don’t know.”

“Whatcha thinking?”

“… I miss Basil. I miss the nights you’d sneak out and we’d all just hang out on a rooftop doing absolutely nothing. I miss traveling with him, bringing you along for a weekend, just the freedom we had. I miss… well, basically everything about the past three years.”

“Just three?”

“All four years were good. Three were even better though.”

“Aww.”

“Heh. … But I think most of all I just wish I hadn’t given into my damn curiosity and come back. If I hadn’t, they would still think James is dead, and I wouldn’t have to deal with this. Because for all intents and purposes, he is dead. He died in that accident four years ago, and while I may look like him and have some of his memories, I’m not James. Not anymore. The sooner they understand that, the better. Especially for my sanity.”

“So why don’t you leave? You’re legally an adult, just up and disappear again. You don’t even need to leave an explanation if you don’t want to.”

“I… I’ve thought about it. On one hand, I want to. But on the other hand… I don’t know. It’s weird. I feel guilty thinking about it. They spent four years thinking James—I was dead, and then I just up and disappear again after a month? How is that fair to them? But then again, how is it fair to me to keep up this charade for them? And I just keep going in circles.”

A pause

“Okay, I know that look you’re giving me Ay. Are you gonna tell me what you’re thinking, or do I have to live in suspense for the rest of my life?”  

“Just thinking about how I want to word this.”

“Spit it out. I’m too impatient, and I can handle you accidentally insulting me.”

“I want to make sense.”

“But Aydan—”

“Okay okay fine, calm down you drama queen.”

“I’m not a drama queen!”

“Shush!”

“Fiiine.”

“So, here’s how I see it. You’re right, in a way. James isn’t alive. Not in the way your parents think he is, not in the way Will wishes he still was, not in any way that will satisfy everybody else you used to know. But he’s not exactly dead either, no matter how much it would simplify your life if he was. There are parts of James that you carried over, through the accident and your amnesia, and wove into who you are now, into Jay. I don’t think you’d be able to pick them out and cut every single tie to your life before the accident without destroying yourself. You can’t just pretend he’s dead and completely gone forever.”

“So what? If he’s dead but not, where does that leave me? Am I supposed to just keep pretending until I—until I snap?”   

“I think the best thing you can do is learn to live with—live with this zombie in your chest, so to speak. And at some point you should mention something along these lines to your family at least—Are you seriously laughing at me?”

*snort* “I’m sorry, zombie?”

“Okay look. A, I never claimed to be eloquent. B, you’re the one that rushed me before I could think of a suitable alternative to that phrase.”

*laugh* “Oh my god Ay.”

“Hey, don’t laugh!”

“I’m sorry, but we were having a serious conversation, and then you come out of left field with frickin zombies—I love you Aydan. I seriously love you.”

“I love you too. Even if you are mean for laughing.”

“I’m sorry. It’s cute.”

“Pfft.”

“I love you. Thank you.”

“Of course. Did any of what I said help?”

“Maybe. It’s definitely hard to be upset at people being pushy when you’re making me laugh.”

“Hm. I think I know what else will cheer you up.”

“Oh?”

“Let’s sneak out. We can text Basil to meet us for milkshakes.”

“If my mom finds out, I’m dead. You know she has a weird grudge against Basil cause she thinks he basically kidnapped me.”

“Since when has that stopped you?”

“… Touché. You said nobody noticed us slip out?”

“Nobody but Will, maybe.”

“He’ll keep quiet for me. Let’s go.”

“Hey Jay, wait up!” *laugh*