[Don't Starve] Someone I'm Close To {Maxwil}

Chapter 12- Written (Epilogue)

Day 6 of...

Spring #7, if memory serves

1926

Been a while since I finally got the chance to sit on my ass and write something. It's a welcome break from all the building and cleaning and harvesting we've done around here lately. Wendy's knee has headed just fine, but there's a large and very noticeable scar just underneath the patella that she's a bit self-conscious of. Wigfrid and Webber are always trying to build up her confidence about it, though, so I'm sure she'll be fine with it soon enough. She's quite adorable about it, to be honest. I didn't think much of raising children before, but I'm having second thoughts about that now thanks to Willow. Wendy and Webber are like everybody's children around here, and as far as I know their only problem with it is that they're unsure of who to call 'Mummy' and 'Daddy'.

Winter was actually surprisingly mild for us. I'm sure we all know who to thank for that. Everyone was quite depressed during the most of the season, but they've recovered since then. Not fully, but we're all making progress. Now it's spring, as stated at the beginning of this entry, and so far, we're thriving. I'm a bit worried, actually, since we haven't received any attacks from the hounds just yet. We usually get one around this time. Maybe I've just miscounted the days. That, and for some reason Charlie never came back as a human into this world. While I'm feeling a bit suspicious about that, words can't describe how happy I am that she's gone and that we'll never have to deal with her again. Hoorah!

Our crops are doing just fine. The bees are starting to produce honey but we can't go anywhere near them because they'll poke us full of holes and bee poison if we do. Oh well. Honey isn't a priority right now anyway. What IS, however, is monitoring the world closely to see what other changes Willow may add to it soon. At least, that's MY biggest priority. Everyone else is still trying to get used to the fact that she's gone in the first place, and on top of old Wickerbottom's death, too. Can one blame them for missing her? Absolutely not. She was a treasure to us all, myself and Wigfrid especially. Wigfrid especially has had difficulty adjusting to her absence. Before these past two weeks, I had never heard her cry before. It's not something I want to hear again. It's quite heartbreaking to listen to someone you're friends with cry over something you know you can't fix. Poor Winnie. The good news is, she and Maxwell are on better terms now. They apologized to one another for the little incident that went down between them when we found Wickerbottom's body and how they approached it. Wigfrid is actually fairly accepting of Maxwell and I now, so I suppose that's a good thing, too.

By the way, Maxwell made the strangest discovery. The morning after we confessed to one another about how we felt, he found a note in his tent that said 'Hey-- take good care of my brother for me, okay? -W'. Oh, Willow. We didn't deserve her. I will admit, though, I'm a bit embarrassed at the idea that she saw us getting intimate out there.

That note isn't the only thing we've gotten from her thus far, actually. Near the end of the winter, Wes had a horrible mishap with some beefalo in heat that had somehow wandered close to the base. Wigfrid brought him in to clean him up, but his wounds were pretty severe, and we were dangerously low on disinfectant. He developed an infection and passed away within a few days. It wasn't pretty. We were devastated, Woodie especially, until we found some things outside the base the next morning. They looked...I don't know how to describe them. They looked vaguely like a person's heart with ropes tied around them, as if to hold them together. They came with a note detailing how to use them, and long story short, we brought Wes back with one. That's one moment I don't think I'm ever going to forget. That, and one of the kids mentioned bringing back Wickerbottom with one of the spares. Let's just say trying to dig up that body wasn't our brightest idea. I moved the last shovelful of dirt, looked down to see just how far I'd gotten, and promptly turned my head to the side to vomit. Luckily neither Wendy nor Webber saw what I did, or they would have been horribly, horribly scarred. I should have kept in mind that decomposer bacterium existed here as well as in our old reality.

I suppose if I'm to continue writing, I'll write about something more positive. Maxwell and I have gotten closer since that night. I'm not really sure how else to refer to it. He's a lot more shy about romantic things than I thought he'd be. It's actually kind of cute, I'm not going to lie. I just hope he doesn't find this paper detailing my feelings. Otherwise I may die of embarrassment. We've spent a lot more time together since then, but we haven't told the others explicitly that we're together. Honestly, I'm not even sure that's what we consider ourselves to be. I don't know that much about same-sex relationships, other than the fact that they're common in nature and that the animal with the highest rate of homosexuality is the bat. If only the world I knew before this one was more accepting of such things. Maybe then I'd have more knowledge of how to go about being in love with someone of the same sex. I'm sure the others can tell we're together, though, and they're fine with it. If they're not, no one's said anything. No one seems to have a problem with Wes and Woodie's blatant flirting on a daily basis, so I have no idea why they wouldn't be alright with something more low-key. Besides, we're happy. If that's the case, then there probably isn't anything wrong with our love.

To be honest, it feels weird calling it that. I don't know why. I guess it's just because when I say I love someone, I'm not used to saying it to mean that I love them romantically. I usually just say it to mean more like my brotherly affection towards Willow, or the parental affection I have for Wendy and Webber. Looks like this new relationship is yet another thing for me to get used to. That's not a bad thing, of course. I've just got a lot on my plate right now.

One more thing before I finally put my pen down. All this time I've spent with these people has made me realize something. Before I came here, the only thing that was important to me was my experiments and becoming one of the smartest people alive. (Keep in mind, I was trying to steer my focus away from my family since I hated my parents and thought my sister was dead.) I was morbidly self-obsessed, and that's probably one of my biggest crimes. However, these people have taught me to become more... I suppose the word is compassionate, more aware of the needs and wants of others. While I'm still incapable of interpreting some feelings and emotions, and may not be the best all-around at interacting one-on-one or paying attention, I think I've become better with socializing with these people. The knowledge that I can do this brings me great happiness. Before now it was so hard to feel like others actually liked me, but here there's a feeling of mutual acceptance for one another in the air, and it feels wonderful.

Being here has made me realize the importance of being close to someone. If I hadn't come here, then I honestly don't think I ever would have met people who cared for me better than I've cared for me, and that would have been really different than what I've got now. I would have never met Wendy and Webber, my wonderful children whom I wouldn't trade for the world. I would have never met Wes, the kind mime who doesn't need words to be a good man. I would never have met Wigfrid, the wonderfully talented and strong stage actress who can take on any role flawlessly and loved my little sister with a heart of gold. I would have certainly never met Maxwell, the man I've learned to love despite our several disagreements over the years. Wickerbottom, Woodie, and Wolfgang have all influenced me as well, and even though I don't interact with them much (especially Wickerbottom for obvious reasons), I can't imagine what my life would be like without them.

Point being, I think these long years of living with these people has taught me that you need to have an anchor of some sort to get through the worst times of your life, and that other people are sometimes one of the best forms of anchor that you can get. That's probably some of the most useful information I have in my head right now, and I think that if anyone were to find this paper somehow and read it then I would want them to remember that single piece of information.

At present, Maxwell and I are underneath a birchnut tree together and he is asleep. Wigfrid and Wes are playing with the children in the garden. Wes has made them all flower garlands and it's probably the cutest thing I've seen in ages. Just to the left of them, Woodie and Wolfgang are casually conversing with one another. It's a wonderful and peaceful sight to behold, and I can only wish that it would last forever.

Nowadays, I think that if someone were to come up to me today, tomorrow, a week or even a century from now and ask "Wilson, who's someone that you're close to?", all I would have to do is show them this wonderful bunch of people I've grown to love like family, the children, and my sweet baby sister, and that person would have their answer.

The End