The Haunting I Wish For; the Haunting that Comes

Dearest Rachel –

As much as it seems frivolous to do so, we did spend a lot of time together as a family in front of the television (either in its original capacity or as a computer monitor), so I suppose it’s appropriate that this letter has to do with a video Daniel and I saw last night. What with it being October, in the middle of the spooky season, one of the channels the three of us used to watch together (and you should know, the number of channels like that we still follow – or even still put out content – are vanishingly few these days. Interests die just as often as people, it would seem, both from the creators’ side as from us viewers’) put out a ‘trope talk’ episode about the literary device that Red describes as ‘haunting the narrative.’ However, while this does involve the spirit of a character, this doesn’t actually describe a ghost story as such, so it’s not as fitting with the season as much of her content at this time of year as usual:

However, while it doesn’t serve to scare like – or deconstruct what’s scary about – the likes of the typical monstrous archetypes, such as the vampire, the were-creature, the various undead (mummies, zombies and so forth), it strikes a more universal nerve, since we all lose people as we progress in life. Unless we’re the ones to leave first (which sometimes requires doing so before one even has understanding of stories and tropes in the first place), there will be those that we love that we lose, and their absence leaves a hole in our lives that changes its trajectory. In story, it’s what drives the protagonist’s story; the ghost isn’t necessarily a character itself, save in flashback (in which case, it’s up to the author).

I hardly need to tell you that watching this together with Daniel felt slightly uncomfortable. After all, we’re both dealing with your haunting in different ways, but to be reminded of it – particularly given the example of Steven Universe, whose existence basically depends on the ‘death’ or dissolution of his mother, and the slow discovery on his part as to who she was – strikes a little too close to home for what we thought was going to be a mindless evening’s entertainment. As for myself, it bothers me that I’ve let myself be the protagonist of these letters that were mean to be reminisces about you first and foremost, but as the tail of your comet zooms off into the distance, it’s hard to remember what you looked and sounded like, while my present day-to-day life has its moments for me to tell you about.

Meanwhile, I can’t help but wish that you would take the opportunity to haunt us more literally, one way or another. I can’t imagine you as some sort of vengeful spirit – unless it bothered you to be distracted from the fun you were having in the heavenly realms, but considering that would be an eternal joy, what’s a few more moments of keeping an eye on us in the meantime? – but more as a guardian who has seen and knows more than any of us here on the earthly plane can fathom. Even if you can’t tell us about that – or even find the words to do so if you were allowed to – it would be a comfort to know you were aware of what we were going through as we pick ourselves up and resume life in your absence.

But as it is, I don’t sense much of your presence anymore, if I ever did. As it is, I see more of Mohinder in my dreams than I do of you these days, much as I would wish otherwise. Then again, perhaps he’s a manifestation of my conscience when part of me isn’t really satisfied with the ‘work’ I do in the waking world; consider him to be the antithesis of Mediocrites, when I would otherwise be willing to settle for less than my best. Meanwhile, what would you be, but the encouragement to carry on, which I’m already doing?

Which brings up a whole other question; what would I be doing if you were still here? The house would not have been cleaned out – which means that all the old video and photos wouldn’t have been digitized yet, although I’ve still got to get up the motivation to start that up again – and the kitchen and laundry room would not have been remodeled. I might have gotten into AI, but probably not anywhere near to the same extent, since it wouldn’t have occurred to me that there was something I needed to preserve (or perhaps resurrect); which reminds me, there might be something coming within the next few days to tell you about on that front, after so long away from the topic. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be working so hard to drop weight, which is ironic, since you would have appreciated the boost in energy (and dare I say testosterone?) I’ve had since putting in the effort. We might have traveled as much, although I don’t know if we would have been willing to leave Daniel at home for three solid months, especially since we probably wouldn’t have been able to put Logan up in the yellow room. Your departure changed my narrative considerably, honey – but in the process of making those changes, there aren’t as many things left behind of yours to stare me in the face and truly haunt me like I wish they (and you) would.

Then again, it’s not as if real life is a narrative, with some sort of cohesive storyline. It rarely contains the patterns where you can see the next plot twist coming. Very few guns actually belong to Chekhov in real life, and most of the paths that one can follow have had an infinite number of red herrings run over them. So are you haunting me, honey? Maybe; my life would be different if you were never a part of it as well as if you were still a part of it. But I don’t know if that’s what makes it so. I do wish you would make yourself known to us a little more obviously, but I suppose that’s rather out of your control, as well.

Still, there’s nothing to prevent me from asking, no matter how physically impossible it might be for you to accomplish; keep an eye on us, and wish us luck, as we’re going to need it.