A Spaceman

Chapter 26--If you want something done wrong...

Okay so we've gone over the fact that I really hate not knowing things? 

Right? 

Yes I'm sure we have I'm sure of THAT. But what I'm not sure of is what happened last night.

 I am aware that I was in the hospital last night. I am aware that I woke up in the barracks this morning. I am aware that the lovely Nicole Tom is somehow involved in this. 

But I am not aware in what capacity she was involved, or how much of what I think I said I actually said. I know I was thinking about my sister's unfortunate death and my hand in it---or hands that is it did take two hands---that should be amusing it amuses me but I am too annoyed right now to be amused. I need to know. 

I need to know if she knows. Did I tell her? God, I think I did, yet she smiled at me this morning very quickly but she smiled at me. What did I say? Could she still love me?
That is why I am upset, I don't know, and I can't dare to hope that she knows every part of my mind and still loves me. how could she? How could she when I am---this. And they are---all that they are? The innocence and the stupidity? How is it that they can be all that and yet she knows she is one of them yet still loves me. I want it to be true. I desperately do. and it is it is true it has to be she loves me and I know I was on the drugs, I was babbling and wanting to tell her about that night. not wanting her to make that same mistake.

Not wanting her to think there isn't something wrong with me.

When there is.

I know there is.

It just doesn't bother me.

It may bother her which is why I think she really ought to know before I make passionate love to her. I could get over her not knowing, but I'd rather she know and loves every complete part of me.

Like I said, though, I can get over it.

But I'd rather not. I'd rather do it simply, purely, I want her to know who I am and love me still. I think I hope in vain but I see her gorgeous face and I know I know, she does love me. and I know I tried to tell her. as incoherent as I may have been, was I so much so that she did not realize that I did the deed? That I was the villain of the tale I was telling? I was plain enough, wasn't I? 

The shame is, I haven't the nerve to tell her now that it's daylight---no that's not it I have the nerve I just don't want to because it will make her that much less likely to want to have sex with me in the foreseeable future. And my lust outweighs my ethereal desire to be loved for what I am. no I can get over that if my libido is satisfied which I think it would be. But now that there's the chance she knows, the probability she knows I want to know if what I think is true and I want to know so very badly but I just can't---find a way to ask.

"Are you all right?" Logan asks. He's standing in front of my running machine. I am dripping with sweat, bent over clinging to the bars. The read out says eight miles. No wonder my legs burn.

"Yes," I say, nodding.

"You look like you're having an existential crisis," he says, helpfully.

"No, not really, this is more an affair of the heart," I explain, "It's not to do with Nolan, I'm over that." Well over that. I'm quite glad he's out of the way. It was nice, those fifteen minutes I'd thought I would have a coconspirator I could trust. No not really but it was nice thinking I could pretend to trust him and then waiting for him to try to betray me that had been fun. He'd just done it so badly when he went and tried to do it. I'd betrayed him SO much quicker than he'd even thought of betraying me. plus his murders were so shoddily done he'd have been caught before too long even with out my assistance.