Neal Cicada Deserves Better (Aurora Borealis)

 Universe Hopping and Courting the one you love

I've heard rumors about alternate universes for the longest time growing up. Mostly in the form of second-hand stories passed on from my father to myself.

He told me he wasn't of this world; of this existence. That he came from a universe long forgotten, that he jumped from world to world out of love. My mother never remembered the other worlds he spoke about, the slight differences and sweeping changes that alter his life like it's nothing. She told me that he's a passionate and creative person and to enjoy his stories as simply that. Stories.

But the stories always seemed too detailed to be fake, and he never managed to spell mom's name quite right, and would often forget which of her parents were alive or dead.

Dad's past was a complete mystery. His parents weren't anywhere to be found and when searched up in the local archives, it was like he had never been born. He mourned characters in his stories like old friends, became distraught at the mention of their names, and would isolate himself for days - mumbling about how she would never understand what he's been through.

He never resented my mom for not believing him. It's almost as though he was used to it. I wanted to ask him what it's like to be stuck in a perpetual relationship loop with someone that never believes you. But mom told me not to bother him and I was too young to find the right words to say.

The grief behind his eyes never faded, an ancient mourning he hoped I would never understand. I wanted nothing but to comfort him, even if my efforts would be in vain. In a way, he was already gone. In others, it was like he'd never been here to begin with.

Then one day he was gone. Every trace of him was nothing more than smoke in the wind, an incomprehensible mystery of a man, and a letter in his study addressed to me. It told me to hold onto it until the time was right. I tucked it away in my jacket pocket while Mom seemed relieved.

She muttered about how she never had to hear his stories again, chittered about freedom and the excitement of being single thanks to dad being presumed dead. I let a silent rage burn inside of me.

Open on your sixteenth birthday.

That was all I had to go on. So be it.

When I turned sixteen, I sat alone in the attic while my mom went shopping around for new eye candy. In the two years since my father's passing, it became more and more obvious she never loved him. He may have not resented her, but I did.

I hoped the letter he left would lead me to my own freedom far away from this place, to worlds beyond my scope of knowledge and imagination. To a place to be loved without condition. Back to him.

Neal,

If you're reading this that means you're old enough to know how I made it to your reality. I trust that you waited.
Even if you hadn't, I doubt you'd attempt this without the proper conditions.

I have one last story for you. I'm gonna make it count.

When I was younger, I fell in love with a woman that so happened to be your mother. She was beautiful, charming, had a wicked sense of humor and could drink me under the table. The world in her eyes was always new and marvelous. Every creature was beloved by her, every plant a new friend. She showed me how to be curious, too. To love wholeheartedly in the face of suffering. There was no amount of love that I could not contain for her. She helped make me a better person and we were rocks for one another throughout this storm we call life.
She told me she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me. I couldn't agree more.
So we got married on a rainy day in Apriay. We were soaking wet at the reception and danced in the rain outside, laughing to ourselves while my mother was hollering for us to come back in before we got sick. At one point a stiff wind knocked us over and we got doused in mud.
I'll never forget the look on Hera's face as she realized what happened before cracking up and starting a mud fight. We were filthy by the end of it, that's for sure, but we had the time of our lives.
It's one of my fondest memories aside from the day we brought you home.