I grew up with Ulysses, I know him better than anyone else. There's no one who knows him better, understands him better, can forgive more of his nonsense, or can tell when my brother is trying to hide something. I know his moods. God, do I know them. Anyone can see them etched across his face. But few people can get him to talk about whatever it is he's mulling over like I can. It's just the relationship we've always had. Survivors instinct. We both made it out of childhood together, somehow.
So when I say I believe him, I hope that means something, because I do believe him, no matter how crazy his stories sound, because I've heard his nonsense, heard it all my life, and this is different. It's not something he's somehow convinced himself of, or some incredibly fantastic delusion. I mean, I know he has his problems with the rest of the world, always trying to find his place in it, but he's not someone who would do it at the expense of his sanity. He's far too stubborn for something like that.
So I believe him when he says that he went to outer space, saved a whole world, and somehow returned home to try and resume his life. I know it hasn't been easy. I'm the only person, as usual, he has to turn to. He's told me more about it than anyone else, and why shouldn't he? And maybe that's the problem. Maybe that's always been his problem. Sometimes relationships are too important. I know how that sounds, but I absolutely believe it, just like I believe him. I feel sorry for him, too, because he came back and made the ultimate sacrifice, because he lost everything. The only thing I question is whether he had a choice at all to return, and if he's been regretting that choice ever since. I wouldn't blame him if he did.
I worry about him, I really do. I don't know what it took for him to do it in the first place, I mean become a hero and everything, because let me tell you, that's not what I would have expected from him in a million years. He was about as awkward as you can get, growing up. He certainly wasn't a star athlete or anything, and he didn't join the military out of high school. He went to college, and eventually graduated, but what he was like in college, I wouldn't know. We drifted apart for the only time in our lives at that point. So maybe there's an explanation there. I don't know. Sounds about as plausible as anything else.
What do I do for him now? Anything I can. He's always been there for me, and I've always been there for him. What can I say? It's the least I can do.
"But this is not the story," says Kindly.