[ It's all very confusing. Standing in for his old partner? Acting like he knew him? It all sounded very strange, maybe a little ludicrous, but this from the man who couldn't remember a moment of his life, who'd put together an imaginary existence because he'd accidentally fallen in love with his partner: who needs Velma and Daphne indeed.
There's something odd about Ray, he thinks. Something bashful, something reserved. It's like he's maybe afraid of getting hurt, and Geoffrey can understand that. Maybe some part of Ray would find it acceptable to embrace that physicality, but he's very caught up in how he sees himself, and how other people see him. He's defined by those things and nothing else.
He's not the kind of man who could ever change. Learn - yes. Adapt - sure. But genuinely change who and what he thinks he is? Geoffrey wasn't so sure about that.
The sentimentality was definitely there, though; the love. it wasn't an illusion of something he'd made up, he felt it undeniably, like a pressure on his chest. This man cared immensely for him and he was a little bit afraid, frightened that he might lose the one man who was clearly his best fried in the world. Hell, maybe his only friend.
He stared at him in silence for a few moments longer, then rolled over onto his back, taking the pillow with him and hugging it against his chest. ]
I wish I could remember, Ray. For me, maybe, but mostly for you. I may not remember who I am, or who you are, but I know I don't want to be putting you through this.
no subject
There's something odd about Ray, he thinks. Something bashful, something reserved. It's like he's maybe afraid of getting hurt, and Geoffrey can understand that. Maybe some part of Ray would find it acceptable to embrace that physicality, but he's very caught up in how he sees himself, and how other people see him. He's defined by those things and nothing else.
He's not the kind of man who could ever change. Learn - yes. Adapt - sure. But genuinely change who and what he thinks he is? Geoffrey wasn't so sure about that.
The sentimentality was definitely there, though; the love. it wasn't an illusion of something he'd made up, he felt it undeniably, like a pressure on his chest. This man cared immensely for him and he was a little bit afraid, frightened that he might lose the one man who was clearly his best fried in the world. Hell, maybe his only friend.
He stared at him in silence for a few moments longer, then rolled over onto his back, taking the pillow with him and hugging it against his chest. ]
I wish I could remember, Ray. For me, maybe, but mostly for you. I may not remember who I am, or who you are, but I know I don't want to be putting you through this.