It just takes time

His last words, if he was to be believed, were quite freaky. Everything seemed so well - well, that is a tall order, because not everything goes as well as storybooks want us to believe - because in the past month or so, there was no significantly huge snag. In other words, it was heaven for him.

"Thank you," he said. "Thank you for accepting me. It meant a lot."

Perhaps he came in at a lucky time, when people had a lot of time on their hands, and were willing to talk. Then again, he was surprised that they were willing to talk: not that he thought they were snobbish, but he knew it was hard to start anew. "Lucky for him," one friend said, "he took the chance. He's got quite a few witty comments, and it helps spice things up."

"Quite an enthusiastic fellow," another friend of his said. "He can be very off sometimes, but I liked him quite quickly."

He quickly made friends. Of course, provided that it's just happened, nobody can really figure out what happened, or why it happened. Or perhaps because they never really cared about such details - well, most of them - but he settled in pretty fast. There might have been some who were suspicious, but it came naturally. "Not everybody warmed to him," the first said. "It's like he was this rambunctious kid with so much to tell. People listened, but not to that degree."

"I guess it takes more time," a female friend said. "I was uncomfortable, sure. I am still uncomfortable. But we'll get there."

Once, he went with the usual proceedings. It was the usual party, although there were less people than usual, and pretty much a different crowd. He was wary, but still trying his best to be his usual self, talking about medicine cabinets and cartoon robots, when he called someone something else by mistake. A slip of the tongue, if you may call it that.

The group was unusually rambunctious, and couldn't live down what he did. Well, that usually happens. "What happened to me was worse," the second said. "They really couldn't live it down, even a few days later." Perhaps he didn't take it well. The next morning, they were reading his apparent last words off their mobile phones.

"Thank you," he said. "Thank you for accepting me. It meant a lot."

"I think he wasn't used to it," the third said. "It always goes that way. But I guess we're all supposed to grow up. That's what we're here for, believe it or not."

"I did a few mistakes, and I don't know if I could still do something about it," his text message continued. "Maybe next time, you'll see me elsewhere, taken for dead..."

"Didn't he overreact?" the first said. "I did that once too, and trust me, it didn't work well."

"Perhaps," the second said. "It just takes time. It just takes time."

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