This Changes Everything

by Sally Ember, Ed.D.

CHAPTER INTERLUDE XIV

  Excerpts from the Chief Communicator’s Occasional Log, Clara's Apology Letter to Epifanio

  March 19, 2012

  Dear Epifanio,

  This is not a letter I ever want to write, but I know you need to read it.

  If you get this far or skip around in this Volume, then you probably know that I am depicting my favorite versions of our timelines, most of the time. I know these stories are not your favorites.

  I believe that no one but you and I are going to recognize you in this novel as Epifanio. No one else but you and two others (who aren’t going to read my novels, anyway) even know about the alternate timelines I timult about our lives. No one else ever hears about my actual feelings or about your rejection of me and of our life together. Not even my family knows who you are. I tell them all you're a fictional character, a composite. I even say that to you.

  It's not exactly a lie: I know the versions of you I put into my novels are not actually you, the version I encounter in this timeline. Doesn't that make this fiction and the character a composite?

  BTW: “your” name means “Radiating, Emanating Brilliance.” Nice, right? I choose the two names from Spanish, Greek, Latin, Sanskrit and Tibetan roots, just for fun. No one besides me likes the name I give you, but I do not care. These are my stories and I can name my characters whatever I want.

  For better or worse, I become the most famous person on this planet. As the Chief Communicator for the Many Worlds Collective, first-ever liaison for the first-ever public visitations from E.T.s and all that, my personal life is often the topic of speculation, with or without these novels. A few may play the guessing game of trying to figure out who you and others I assign pseudonyms and alter details about may actually be. Doesn't that happen with every famous person's fiction?

  I believe readers think, at first: “What a strange love story." Or, perhaps, some think, “This is confusing, but interesting,” and give no further thought to who CeeCee's mythical lover/husband might be, since they know the Chief Communicator: I don’t have a husband or lover (at least, not in public). Or, they do not care, anyway, about the CC's private life (much).

  People who read the early drafts of this who know me and know I am single write me or call to say things like: “I hope you find love like this,” and “I wish there could be an Epifanio for you!” Some even beg me to tell them who I model you after, who you are.

  I remind them that I am single. There is no possible man who is “Epifanio” now, in the past, or ever [unless things change (again)].

  So, I can promise that no one is reading this and thinking: “Wait! I think I know this ‘Epifanio Dang.’ What kind of nonsense or lies is the Chief Communicator telling? He’s not with her!” No. Won’t happen.

  Some really like this character, admire him, find him funny, interesting, sexy, smart. Some despise him, calling Epifanio "arrogant," "selfish," a "jerk" who is "unworthy" of Clara. I paint a complex character. I try to do you justice.

  I always thank them and say things like: “Epifanio is a composite. There is no Epifanio.”

  Readers know: many of these fictionalized events do not happen. I imagine they accept that their CC does not have you or anyone as a lover but they like to read those parts, anyway. Everyone loves love, right?

  Before this novel is available to the wider readership, no one knows any details of our life together or much about my experience of our current and past relationship, not even you. By reading this, you get to understand more. That is the main reason I want you to read the entire book, not just sections. I hope you read the entire Spanners Series. You are in almost every Volume.

  If you do, you can't help but grok how we both like being together, how happy we are. The warmth between us emanates from our scenes. We interact and feel as we do in this novel in many alternate timelines. We're amazing. It’s wonderful. You glow. Take my word for it…. You kind of have to, eh?

  However, when I imagine your reading these stories, I realize I have to write this letter and include it in the first Volume. I feel compelled to explain, to apologize to you for “lying,” even though you might never see this letter, never read these books.

  I know I include this letter, regardless.

  Why? I have to tell my truth, here, before this Volume ends. That way, if you are reading this, you know I am not insane. I definitely have my problems: obsess, much? But, fortunately or not, I am mostly sane.

  Up until this Chapter, before coming to this letter, everyone who reads this novel (except for you, of course) could believe Epifanio loves Clara. He wants her; they are together for more than 30 years, happily, willingly, mutually, gratefully, in several timelines.

  In fact, the listed author of this series is going to get some nasty fan mail about ditching this love story in favor of “truth.” She may have to change her name.

  As you now know, I'm nine years old when timulting starts for me. There is not even a word for what I experience, then. I tell no one. Later, I find out lots of people know that multiple timelines exist, particularly mathematicians, physicists, Buddhists. But, I hear about no other humans who actually experience what occurs in the alternates or tells me about their experiences.

  Soon, when many have permission and Access from the Many Worlds Collective Resource Library to timult intentionally, I have company, of a sort. Buddhist yogis and yoginis, adepts in other lineages or spiritual paths, and those who reach Levels 6 and higher in the Excellent Skills Program training, can timult on purpose, also.

  However, I am still the only human who timults my own and a few others' lives almost daily, by accident. No one can understand how confusing, weird, and lonely my life is because of this blessing/curse. Don’t even get me started on how lonely being the Chief Communicator is.

  Timulting becomes a well-known occurrence, eventually. With so many people visiting and viewing other timelines, my life doesn't seem so strange, anymore. Maybe, some day, I do not seem quite so odd.

  Readers are smart, for the most part. If they get this far, very smart. I'm sure they figure out what is and isn’t true, here.

  Do you still wonder why I show us being together in my books? Well, I ask you: who wants to live like this, lonely and isolated? Writing our love stories brings you right to me, offering me some happiness. I hope reading them does not make you unhappy.

  Most fundamentally, I put the stories of our intimate relationship in my books because I miss you.

  There. So mundane and pathetic a reason, but that is it. I miss you. Every day. Every night. Especially every night.

  I can’t even count how many times I wake up in the middle of the night and reach for you. When I wake up fully, grasping the empty air beside me, I moan: “Damn! Wrong timeline.”

  I often weep with frustration and despair, the loss of our life together weighing on me like a brick on my chest as I fall back to sleep. Years and years, decades of this grief.

  Re-set after Re-set, all for other reasons, but each impacts us, usually keeping us apart. I'm Psi-ped so often I can't remember feeling good about Re-sets.

  How can I miss you when “we have not ever been together?” you once ask me. “What, exactly, do I miss?”

  Well, now you know more about what I miss, even if you can’t really understand how I come to feel this yearning and loss. You can’t empathize, I know, but now, perhaps, you can sympathize. I would welcome some sympathy from you, especially if you’re not also angry.

  These experiences are the only chances I have to live with and love you the ways I grow to want. I do show some alternates of the most preferred version, just to be fair (bizarre concept of “fairness” I have, right?). Every scene I timult about our being together isn’t showing a relationship that is always easy or always the same—timing, encounters, the exact words and events, how we get together, how we live—changes occur frequently, even now. That's the way things are for me, internally.

  Some draft readers tell me: it�
��s easy to imagine Epifanio with Clara. Their relationship is so vivid their love "leaps off the pages."

  Ironically, very soon, you are almost alone in being unable to imagine loving me.

  Specific disclaimer: I am not trying to manipulate your feelings or influence your choices. I do not write about our lives in other timelines to try to convince you of this love.

  Here, in this letter, are my “due diligence” and general disclaimer: I admit my deliberate misconstruing of our shared reality and give my reasons.

  How do I pull this off, you may wonder? Altering photographs? So twentieth century. Falsification of news stories, MWC reports, etc., that show us together, name you as my husband? It’s my novel, remember? It’s fiction. Keep ‘em guessing, I say, as to what are the facts and what are the adjustments I make to facts, given the literary license being an author affords me.

  I explain it all here, writing to you, since you know the truth better than anyone else. I apologize, but I am not feeling remorse. Given the same circumstances, I do it again. And, again. I have to.

  Before you read this letter, reading these chapters and stories, the ways I put you with me: do you hate me? Despise me?

  I sincerely hope not. I want you to feel flattered, sympathetic, entertained, even.

  Only one of us has to feel awful. I suppose I volunteer. I feel abandoned. Rejected. Scorned. Dismissed. Disrespected. Disregarded.

  I include this letter, trying to make things better between us if you are reading my book. I want to retain whatever friendship we do have.

  I hope you can find forgiveness and compassion; try to keep pity to a minimum. I hope the anger, if it arises, fades quickly. You know I never want to cause you any discomfort or pain.

  In my understanding of all the Epifanios, you could find this amusing, entertaining, poignant, silly, even. I hope that’s the way you respond. My Epifanio would.

  If you have darker feelings, I pray you can understand my motivation and my needs. Some day, you may be able to forgive my use of a version of you in this novel as my loving, devoted, creative, brilliant, talented, caring, handsome, sexy, graceful, funny and fascinating husband.

  At least I show your best qualities. You may even wish that everyone sees you as I do. Well, now, they do.

  With all the love in my heart,

  in this and every timeline and lifetime,

  Clara

  For the rest of you readers/viewers: My favorite pastime? Daydreaming about jumping to a more-favored timeline. I squeeze my eyes shut and wish to be transported….

  Nothing. No ruby slippers. No quantum leaps. I guess this is “home.”

  Why, exactly (pet peeves time, again) does “create my own reality” not operate, here? Just another one of those aphorisms I despise.

  Here’s another: “If you wish for it hard enough, it comes true.”

  Or, the worst one: “Visualize what you want and it happens.”

  If visualizing or wishing would WORK, I would not have to write this letter, would I? Don’t get me started on karma.

  I can say, with certainty: there is no one, human or other, on this or any other planet who faithfully and repeatedly visualizes, wishes, prays and believes more than I in something this strongly, to have it come to nothing.

  Just to keep things in perspective, we have Eric Idle, from “Monty Python,” who reminds us that we are just a speck in a mighty large universe….

  At least one of my prayers is answered: There IS intelligent life somewhere else, many elsewheres. Listen to Idle sing about it on whatever station, channel or 'net link you can find.