Electra’s reflections on drifting apart. Written when I was a little blue, coming from a few things happening in the fandom that saddened me and I didn't understand.
CATS - now and forever, forever :)
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You know something? I saw Rum Tum Tugger yesterday. And something else: I almost blushed. I don’t know what I was doing there anyway; it feels almost like I was spying or looking for them all on purpose out of nostalgia or something. Something like that. I don’t think he saw me, and even if he did, I’m not sure he’d have recognized me. He was talking with two cats I didn’t know, and one that might have been Demeter, but I’m not 100% on that.
She wasn’t shouting "MACAVITY!" or twitching like a frantic ferret or anything. Kinda hard to tell just who you are without your tacky trademarks, isn’t it? She was laughing, relaxing. Maybe flirting, or maybe she, like everyone else, is too mature now and has grown out of all that.
Victoria smiles at me and tells me it was great while it lasted. She feels like some sort of link back, if I think about it, but most of the time, she’s just a usual sort of lovely friend, always around, nothing to worry or bother about. Does everyone take so much for granted? Do I, still?
Did we honestly believe it could go on like that, foreverandevermore? I haven’t seen Jemima in weeks - the other side of the world it feels like, though I’ve really just lost track of her when she moved wherever it was in the labyrinth of London. I could do with some of her smiling poetic hope right now.
It was all so - comfortable. Wonderful, even, for a bit. We had the Jellicle Ball, every year - the social event to end them all, and we’d spend the whole time getting ready and wondering and panicking about Pounce and Misto and Tumble and Tugger, of course, and then the thing would fly by in a crazy intoxicating blur. Wow. If I could capture those moments in my head, I wouldn’t know how we could ever let it go.
I guess some people might say it was only the novelty that made us kittens hold on. Or the traditional value, for the old ones. Old Deuteronomy made it happen, always seemed like he loved it, and maybe that’s what made it all fall apart. It wasn’t the same without him. Munkustrap tried for a year to keep it all together, but... something. Something didn’t work out. We drifted. I’m sentimental. I clung on. I was missing it before I even knew it was going.
Some made their formal or heartbreaking or eloquent departure speeches. Jennyanydots, smiling gently, told us that she just wasn’t up to tap-dancing anymore and probably would give next year’s Ball a miss. It had 'really meant a lot to her' she said, 'but it was time to move on.' And she faded from the junkyard that month. Then Skimble too, just faded out, without a real farewell, and Jellylorum and Gus and Bustopher (proclaiming walking was getting to be too much of an effort.) Leaving room for the next generation, but they just left us a gap. Time to move on? There's never a time to abandon us like that!
Then Bombalurina left. Dramatically.
Left the area completely, I think, though then I just didn’t want to know. Off for adventure, off for romance, whatever. She said goodbye alright: she said it nice and loud and scornful and proud and just laughing at us for holding onto all this stupid tradition and trappings. I hated her for what she was doing to us, and I hated that ‘us’ was disappearing.
And Tugger was no fun without her. Amazingly, we all began to feel - awkward. Stupid and childish playing stupid games.
And so another part of ‘us’ faded away.
Etcetera started settling down, you might say. Pouncival’s helping her with that, oddly enough. At least, last I saw them, that’s how it was. Victoria’s around, and so’s Plato, but us three’s not much really, is it? And I’m still me, and edgy and hanging around on the outside and being a wallflower and not caring. And I haven’t seen Jemima in months.
I’m sure she saw it too, when she had to leave, that it was really nearly the end. Bomba had gone only about a week before. Jem and I and Victoria and Etcetera said we’d ‘see you’ casually, sincerely - around the park or something, play there every day and all, never lose touch.
It just didn’t really work out like that, did it?
‘Playing’ in the park feels almost unnatural, like we should have grown out of it, like that’s what everyone expects. It’s scary, but there’s nothing to say or do there anymore. Not for us.
I feel like I should race around London and tell everyone to come back to our junkyard, see if it’s still there, have a party and -- be a happy extended family again?? I feel like there’s no way I could do that.
Was it always this limiting? Life, I mean.
Jemima and I promised it without saying ‘I promise’ because there’d seemed no need to, no way we’d ever be apart. Oh, Jem, what’s happened? Are we growing up? Are we dying? Hurts bad enough.
I don't understand, is all. I feel young and helpless, a wide-eyed mute kitten with broken legs. Old as ancient, remiscing already, I feel impossible and infinite. Infinite and lonely and helpless as the moon.
There weren’t any limitations or inhibitions way back when. Maybe there aren’t any now either; we just make believe it’s all a lot harder and more necessary to lose each other and suffer. Words are a bit useless. I mean, what would I have said if I’d just walked out a bit and ‘chanced’ to bump into Tugger properly yesterday? ‘Hey, remember me? I used to drool all over you at those dumb parties?’ And I loved it, remember? And didn’t you?
I loved it all so much... But maybe that’s just me. Holding onto what can’t be caught. I’m told I just never want good things to end. I just don’t understand. Why should they??
It’s your ultimate unrequited love: what life just can’t and won’t deliver, and it’s tearing me apart.
It happens all the time.
Everything tugs a memory. The moon gets to me now, reminding me of things it hurts to remember and it kills me to forget. I want to get it all back, and I don’t see why I can’t.... I just can’t.
Longing’s heavy. Yearning for that intangible, simple thing.... I miss you I miss you I miss you...
I just - miss it all so bad...
I want to walk back to the junkyard one of these nights and find a load of kittens make-believing that they’re having the time of their lives just by singing and dancing and flirting and acting out silly plays. I want to see the little shy kitten sparkle and make magic. Maybe I want to see Bombalurina walk back in that gate, and a little voice to rise up and welcome her home.
I just want to go home. I want to find out that I’ve been dreaming, and that that’s why this doesn’t make sense and isn’t fair. I want it back... I want it foreverandevermore and happilyeverafter and I wish I could believe it still.
Get real, Electra...
Something mature inside me sighs knowledgaebly.
Nothing lasts forever.
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