Wednesday, 31 May 2006

Downhill is faster.

You know what? I'm pissed off now. I fired my counselor this afternoon as I was leaving her office right in the middle of my session. I don't care. I'll take Jake's omnipresent subjectiveness over her judgmental crap any day. I don't bust my ass getting across town to her ghetto carjackville office that many times a week so she can be disapproving and snarky. Like she's sorry she wastes her time on me because there is happiness here. Because that woman could not talk a kitten off a ledge and I actually feel a little fearful if she is considered to be a resource for women who've been beaten up and don't have someone like Jacob in their lives.

I was so angry when I came home I sent PJ home and then I called and cancelled everyone. I cancelled the physical therapist and my weekly checkup. I don't want anyone here. I can't take it anymore. Didn't I say last week that I felt self-destructive?

Maybe I'm nuts because now I'm alone in the house. Maybe I am nuts. Maybe Cole should have just snapped my neck because he could have and if he really wanted to kill me he simply would have. Maybe I don't deserve the brief moments of overwhelming joy with the angel Jacob who walks this earth to protect me and to love me. Maybe he is temporary. Nothing that wonderful ever keeps. Nothing is ever in my life for long if it's good. I don't have that kind of luck, folks.

Maybe I just need to sleep. Going to take some of those zombie drugs and lie down for a bit.

Tuesday, 30 May 2006


Jake just sent me this quote from the guidelines of the ministry:

    The social behavior of the minister ís spouse is naturally open to common scrutiny and judgment in the same fashion as the spouse of any other public figure. This person must therefore appraise his or her conduct within and without the congregation in this light.
Attached to it was a link to a local bar announcing their new mechanical bull has arrived and the contests begin this weekend.

He is SUCH a freak.

I called him and pointed out that while right now my injuries prevent me from appearing this weekend, hopefully by July I should be okay to go ride. Serves him right to have that mental image in his head for the rest of the afternoon.

(For the record, I don't nor have I ever felt the need to ride a bull and I haven't set foot in an actual bar since the mid to late 90s.)

Of course we fight.

You people thrive on drama. That or you're all in a very bored post memorial day slump and you're reading blogs instead of doing work. Either way, keep it up because my American readership DOUBLED yesterday. I love it, maybe I'm a passive attention whore.

Or just a whore if you read my gmail. I'm sure it's all the girls who thought they'd capture Jacob over the years but he didn't see them because he was only looking at me have decided pestering me with nasty emails is the new gossip.

And no way am I posting the Mother's Day pictures online, much as I'd love to, my kids are in them and I won't be putting their pics on the interweb. If you feel like you're missing out, you are. They're amazing photos.

Someone on gmail told me to wait until reality set in, that pretty soon all the daily bullshit would crop up and life would no longer be sparkling and new. The post-honeymoon phase.

Right. Must be a new reader who wasn't paying attention. Jacob has been in my house 5 days a week for various reasons or a hot meal or a movie or whatever. He's been a permanent fixture since the winter of '98. That's a long honeymoon phase. The only difference is that now we can touch each other (all over!) without anyone feeling guilty. Like asking for a cookie and being given the entire Keebler Enterprise.

So in honor of the doubting thomases who read, here's a newsflash. Of course we argue. We started out arguing. We have argued through so much crap. Oh the stories I could tell. My all time favorite argument took place on a country dirt road in the moonlight after a hayride and we were screaming at each other and we never resolved it but I got and gave a damn big hug at the end because we love each other with no conditions attached. Always and forever.

And there's one revolving argument that never goes away, especially now. We have it 4 times a week every week and it will never be resolved. Because I am a stubborn girl.

The Great Hearing Aid Debate.

Because Jake loves to discuss my hearing disability. He loves to point it out. He likes to exploit it by saying he said something he didn't.

No, he doesn't exploit it like Cole exploited it the night he snuck up on me and plowed me into the wall. Not cool.

But of course now Jacob says hearing aids would be good for my safety.

Somehow I don't think it would have made a difference. If I had heard Cole I would have been thrown elsewhere. Possibly into traffic. Hearing him wouldn't have stopped him.

My issues are with background noise and certain low notes. I really have to concentrate. It's very tiring. Sometimes it's nice to be in my own world in that noise. I can't really explain why I won't wear hearing aids. He offered a cochlear implant. I don't want to go through surgery. I actually just like pretending my hearing issues don't exist and he's been the loudest dissenter about the subject since I have known him. My preference is to pretend that I am perfect (because DAMMIT I AM PERFECT.)

So I told him I would get the implant. The day after he gets life-sized angel wings tattooed on his back. Since I know he's got wings somewhere back there anyway. Larger than life.

Bless his heart. He shook his head and took a sip of his coffee, which means the argument will continue when he feels like it. I'll be here. I just won't hear him if the TV is on.

So yes, we fight. And I will write out some of those other stories another day.


Yesterday we were gifted with a great set of pictures from the Mother's Day brunch. Jake was collecting pictures from the day for the June newsletter and there are 3-4 really good photographers who lent their talents and gear to the event. One of them wound up taking a lot of pictures of the four of us and he gave us all the prints.

They're candid shots in black and white, I didn't expect them to turn out well and I'm about as photogenic as a brick but wow. There's one where Jake was kissing the top of my head, just as I smelled the flowers that Henry had passed to me. I keep looking at it. And there's another one with the four of us that is so cute-we're all smiling, and Ruth and Henry are each holding Jake's pant legs and leaning out like he's a jungle gym. His arm was around my waist and I was back to the camera, looking up at him. He took that one to his office. The rest were all funny facial expressions and Jacob speaking and giving toasts and then group shots of all the moms. I love pictures.

I also got back my necklace yesterday and I don't know what I'm going to do with it. It's my diamond heart that Cole gave me that I wore every day right up until 2 weeks ago. It got ripped off in the fight and PJ took it to be fixed since he works at the mall. I went to pick it up and while I was paying for the repairs I realized I wasn't going to put it back on. I think I'll just save it for Ruth for when she's older.

My wedding ring still sits on the kitchen windowsill where I put it the day I left for good at the beginning of May. I don't want to touch it but I have to put it away now.

And it looks like we'll both be officially divorced before August-Jacob sooner than I. That's the silver lining from Cole's attack because I don't have to wait a year to file. Jacob had already filed in April after a long separation-he did it before he asked me to be with him. Mentally we were both calculating the days after that that we can legally get married and then we let that go, because it fell to labour day weekend and that was my old wedding anniversary. Maybe some random day in November. Not like it will be a big wedding, probably more like an absolutely private simple 10 minute ceremony in Jacob's church officiated by Reverend Carolyn, who fills in a lot when Jake is off.

Dare I dream of actually being his wife? For real?

I have been everything but that to him. That would be the icing on a cake that took so long to bake we practically chewed through our arms with hunger waiting for it. Now there is the scariest analogy ever. I need more coffee. Jake's. Wife. Oh. wow.

I would love that. I will love it. We've talked about nothing but our future together.

I'm not even going to get into the house stuff. We can't live here. Jacob's house is back up for sale because it's too small anyway. I think we'll stay here for a few months and try to look for a new house in this area. One with just good memories for us. Which is something new to look forward to.

Monday, 29 May 2006

The ugliness of city life.

I grew up a beach-town girl. Up and down the east coast I think I ate more sand than food growing up as a little girl. I have freckles and squint lines. I breathe salt air and fell asleep to the sounds of fog horns and clinking bouys.

That's why I think city life sucks.

And frankly, Jacob is a blooming idiot for giving up the beach to follow me out here but he contends that the beach without the girl is just...dull.

Last night on the way home from dinner we drove through downtown and there was a woman beating another woman up on the sidewalk. I pulled out my phone to call 911 and Jake actually pulls over and GETS OUT OF THE CAR. I'm telling him to please stay in the car, he just says lock the doors. Granted I don't worry about him, he's big, he's strong, and he can talk people out of anything. He got the women both calmed down and within minutes the police were there. So he stands around shooting the breeze with the police for 10 more minutes and I was just muttering under my breath about how much I hate this city.

We went on our merry way but not before being treated to a new round of street-person depravity on the edge of the legislature park further down. I won't even say what I saw. Gross.


I was on a roll with a full judgemental, spoiled rotten verbal rumination of how much I hate city life and Jacob looked at me and asked me where else I could get 11 different kinds of take-out or all the Hello Kitty gear a girl could ever want anywhere else?

He's got a point. Though had I never sampled the amazing Vietnamese restaurant 12 blocks from my house I would have been good with the hotdogs and french fries at the canteen on the beach for the rest of my natural life.

And at least on the beach I don't have to watch people kick the shit out of each other.

Sunday, 28 May 2006

The chorus of sighs.

This morning was the first time I braved Jacob's Sunday early service since 'the incident' and I knew it would be a long morning but I wanted to thank people in person for the food and the prayers and the babysitting too. I can't gloss over it yet, I have to keep wearing the sling and thanks to my pale complexion the bruises have turned a fabulously icky shade of brown. I've been wearing scarves to hide the ones on my neck. It's absolutely unsettling to see Cole's complete handprint burned into my throat like this and yet scarves are so warm in the muggy weather. In my haste to get inside away from the wind and the approaching storm I left my sweater in the car, I was hot anyway.

Jacob was halfway through his sermon and he had walked back up near the choir benches and he turned and paused a beat and then he continued and started to remove his jacket (I'll digress here, he's got this worn-out moss green pinwhale cord suit jacket, he practically lives in it when he's working) and while he was talking about the sadness and ecstasy of moments in our past giving us a fresh spiritual outlook (! chills) he walked down to me and put the jacket around my shoulders. Then he smiled and ran his hand down my hair and then turned and walked down toward the back of the church, still talking while the collective sigh rose up from almost every woman in the sanctuary.

When he was finished he mentioned that he just couldn't have anyone in his congregation sitting and listening to him with blue lips. He then called for people to offer a half dozen sweaters or jackets that would be kept in the coat closets in case anyone needed them for the heat is now off for the summer but the weather is not cooperating. And because he only has one of those jackets. Cue the grin and a sprinkling of laughter.

He's so smooth.

I didn't give him his coat back when we left because I have a thing about his coats. They smell like him, like sandalwood and patchouli. Intoxicating. Like him.


Saturday, 27 May 2006

Jacob's truth serum.

Last night Jacob finally let his moralistic guard down and had a second glass of wine. And a third too. Considering how big he is you would think he could hold his liquor but he just can't seem to manage it and therefore he has always been a designated driver, a teetotaler. Except for once a year or less he just says "fuck it" and has a few.

I have been waiting for this night, honestly because he's as honest and forthright as I am when all inhibitions go away. He speaks his mind and I think he finds it to be akin to when Hemingway talks of seeing Cezanne's paintings in a new light when you're hungry. You see the beauty so much more clearly. He's honest to the point of hurtful. I have learned the most from what he keeps in his heart during these times.

He really really really wants a baby. Because he waited so long already for this life. He's angry. He doesn't want any more denial, any hesitating. He blames me for waiting until I was getting hurt before I left Cole. He doesn't want Cole to have had the best part of my life and he feels like he's always going to be second in line.

My god he was so angry. And it's strangely beautiful because he's a quiet angry. He rarely yells. Instead he just stops, much like I do. He thinks instead. He uses his feelings and wrings the life out of them. He makes them into his lessons and then he learns.

Only he confided that this one isn't going away and logically he is so very aware of how difficult this would make everything but he cannot get past it. Even me reminding him that I left Cole for him and that I was here because he's first in my heart brought a look and one word.


That pissed me off. I don't deserve that look. And I may quietly get mad and stop talking but sometimes I get a little overwhelmed by all of this. By everything. I yelled at him. He deserves better than me. He really does.

Don't WHAT Jake? Don't remind you that I was married? Shit happens. I didn't know you. I didn't know how my life was going to turn out. I didn't know anything. I can't go back and change it but I don't love him anymore. I love you and now you're telling me it's not enough for you? Well FUCK YOU because it's all I have.

He laughed again because he takes none of my bullshit posturing. Now was not the time to laugh. I started crying. Hi, that's one of my most famous talents. God forbid I bottle anything up ever.

It's enough. It's more than I ever dreamed of, Bridge. I just can't even explain how overwhelming this feeling is.

Which feeling is that Jake? Resentment? Competition? Selfishness?

That's not even close to fair, Bridge. The feeling that I want to be a good lover, a provider, a protector and a dad. I want to be a witness to the miracle from this vantage point. I want a house full of love and laughter and every goddamned cliche out there because you make me so happy and I have wanted nothing more than to make a life with you and we are so blessed right now. And you are the only person in my life I would ever want this gift from.

(I'm sure I visibly swooned.)

Then why can't we wait?

We're 35. The kids are 5 and 6, they won't be close if the baby's too far behind them, I'm afraid we're going to miss our chance and we've already missed so much. No more goddamned waiting, Bridge. Look at everything we've been through in the last ten years.

We haven't missed anything Jake. Life is now.

So let's have one. Let's start living. God doesn't want us to be unhappy.
(he might have slurred this slightly).

Oh, pulling out the big guns now, I see.

You know what I mean. You think too much, Bridge.

Are you trying to change me?

No, I'm trying to make you see how I live. How I think, how sometimes beating decisions to death with logic and outcomes does nothing but delay life and life is so short, Bridge. I was starting to feel like you were never going to look at me the way you looked at him.

Oh Jacob I always looked at you the same way. It got me in nothing but trouble.

Right and now you're here. Let's get this show on the road.

You're impossible.

Yeah, well, Bridget, maybe you've changed me.

Does this mean you'll get a tattoo? Or start swearing more?

No. I don't mean that, I mean you make me want to live. To feel everything, good and bad.

Right, can we skip the bad for a bit?

Okay then, only joy
. (geez, he is drunk.)

Okay, only joy.

Okay. So what's the plan?

The plan is let's stop using the stupid diaphragm and see what God has in store for us.

The look on his face washed away any doubts I carried. The only thing I can compare it to is the look on someone's face when you have just informed them that they've won a hundred million dollars. Tax-free. I really doubted he'd remember any of this the next day, but he most certainly did.

Friday, 26 May 2006

Update and stop phoning me.

Oh for crying out loud. No. I am not pregnant.

And to further prove that fact, I'm opening a bottle of wine. Because it's Friday and I have earned whatever liquid drama I can conjure up tonight.

Because, you know, life just isn't dramatic enough right now.

Hell, I remember an exciting day was when a package came in the mail.

Why, yes, I did start drinking half an hour ago. But I can't have anymore until the kids are asleep.

Cake hangover: regrets and enlightenment.

You know how I always say I can't allow myself regrets because regrets will eat you alive? They serve no purpose other than to inflict pain. They are supposed to teach you things, as if the road not taken might have been the wiser choice and you'll do better next time.

What if there is no next time?

What if the chance is gone? You're too far down the road, there's no more detours, forks or off ramps? You can't and won't go back. But then in the distance you think there's one more shot. One last tour off the beaten path.

I am selfish. That is why. Not selfish? Smart? Dumb? Oddly not allowing myself to get carried away on romance. But I can't resolve this inside my head and neither can he. And getting carried away on romance that very one time in April has permanently marked me as impulsive. The one time I do anything impulsive brands me permanently.

So we struggle together and separately. This one is bigger than we are. I'm afraid it will wind up being the one weak spot in the fabric that makes up Bridget and Jake as a unit.

Oh why does this have to be so hard?

The regret? He..

Christ I'm hyperventilating.

He..(anyone have a paper bag?) He wants me to have his baby.

Don't roll your eyes until you have finished reading. It isn't so simple.

He loves the kids. And he wants one more. He wants a tiny creation of our love. A permanent one, since life is rather fleeting for us and a human being walking around changing the world and loving and living made up of our combined genes would be the ultimate expression of our love for each other.

Besides being possibly the most beautiful specimen of blonde ever to grace the human race, a baby would signal how not to fix a broken life.

It's too romantic, even for me. Aside from the glaring fact that we're still married to other people and will be for a while yet, there's already two kids in the middle of this broken home. And yes Jake loves those kids like they are his. They practically are his (oh no more rumors please) and he has had a big hand in helping raise them from birth and he loves them. But I know. They aren't his. They are another man's children and no matter how you rationalize it, it's not the same and never will be. I know there are step families and adopted families and everything is terrific but right now in the headspace we are in, it isn't the same for the purpose of his argument. And I see that.

I'm selfish. Jacob did not say I was selfish. He knows he wouldn't have to say much to convince me. It would be different this time around. He would be here. Is that enough? We've come so far. The kids are old enough now to brush their teeth when told. To try new foods and walk down the street without me fearing they'll run into the traffic. To have their own money. The baby stage is far far behind us now.

Okay so I am selfish. I have never done pregnant very well. I took diclectin through both pregnancies just so I could get my head up off the floor. Hell, Jacob has held my hair back while I was sick when pregnant, thanks to always arriving at the best times. He's got absolutely no shame. I get huge. I swell up. I wind up on bedrest. I have terrible deliveries with complications. I had PPD after Henry. It was so difficult.

The thought of going through any of that again on purpose ruins me. I can't do that again.

But then I look at this man and I think of having HIS child and I want it very much. For he is 35 years old and would be the best father on the face of this earth.

And bitter Bridget said that once before. How do you move forward when you fear you'll repeat the same mistakes you made before? I don't have faith. I had faith before. I loved Cole so hard I feared I would kill us both with it. We had it all and I'm too bitter to assume that wouldn't happen again because life with Jake is a thousandfold more intense, more beautiful, more loving, more perfect. But what if I wake up? What if he decided tomorrow that he made a mistake? After what he has done in his life on behalf of us I shouldn't be thinking like that but I've had so many surprises I didn't expect in the past few weeks I wouldn't be surprised now to find a beanstalk and a golden goose in the backyard. And a talking donkey from Bremen town for good measure.

Why am I living this life in slow motion? If I went for it every time would I be happier? Having exhausted all forms of life without Jacob I found out that life with him was worth it. Even if all I ever get is this two months of broken happiness it's enough for me and yet once again I'm rigid-Bridget, unwilling to close my eyes and leap because I am all too aware of what happens in life to people who are impulsive, and yet had I been impulsive before now, before 1998, I wouldn't have put the extra 3 people in my life through all this pain. The pain of breaking up one family for another newer one. A younger blonder model. Oh my god I'm a reverse homewrecker and this is my midlife crisis.

Wait, Jake is my full-on adultlife crisis, if given the decade of chemisty. But he's not and that's a stupid label. He looked at me in that coffee shop in 1997 and told me he wished I wasn't married. I should have gone back to his apartment that day and slept with him, then told Cole, and then gotten a quickie divorce. But that's a regret. And if I had done that I wouldn't have Ruth or Henry today and I wouldn't change that.

So now what?

Does Bridget squeeze her eyes shut and jump and hope she's safely in the deep end or does Bridget hold to her guns and demand that life not get any more complicated. knowing it will quietly break his heart like it has twice before, because he watched me bring home two babies already and wished that they were his. The laws of the universe that make it so there are two tiny recreations of the life of Bridget and Cole running around and none of Jacob and Bridget, which Jacob secretly sees as the penultimate expression of his love for me, are riddled with ironicies aren't they?

And that, my friends, is regret.

And it's a regret with a ticking time clock, he wants a baby now. After waiting so long to be together there's a renewed sense of urgency, a need to find and exert some sort of control over our circumstances, a need to place a permanent marker in our history together. Which is the sweetest thing in the entire world to me, when he puts it that way. But it's still a phenomenal task. With huge risks. But life is a risk, right?

I know all I have to do is say I can't and he'll let it go. And I will always have to look him in the eyes and know that I denied him the one thing in life that he ever wanted besides me, or because of me. Not sure if I can do that. What gives me the right to do that?

And this entry will give him my side. Not because I am that passive/agressive that I would use this space to argue my position on a huge subject but because he reads this daily and I write a lot more eloquently than I talk and somehow even without expression or tone I can make my thoughts known. Or without interruption even. He doesn't interrupt though, he sits and waits a few beats and then counters. But this is fresh from the inside of my head, and my heart. The edited version doesn't hold the clarity I have through writing it down. We have talked about this into the early morning light too many nights.

And he doesn't want to waste another minute. He said I have brought him to his knees once again.

And I just might have written all this out and wound up talking myself into it. Lovely.

I need to go lie down.

Wednesday, 24 May 2006


Our favorite kid books these days are all about Edith. Edith is the lonely doll, from the series by Dare Wright, which has been around since I was a little girl. Ruth loves Edith, and Henry loves the pictures. We never get tired of Edith's predicaments, nor do we tire of her petulance. When I was a kid she made it somewhat fashionable to be a scowling, pigtailed brat. Because it was cute. It got results.

Of course when you grow up and you continue to get the petulant label attached to your bad mood you quickly learn that no one takes you very seriously at all. The results are not quite what you're looking for, ever. But sometimes the resolution is surprising and wonderful. Such is my life. Life as a doll.

When I don't get taken seriously I go from petulant to insolent in about half an hour. It's not an easy transition and it's a tough hole to climb out of. Jacob saw it coming a mile away. This is where being a good friend has come in handy for him over the years, for he understands where my mind is going and how to lure it back.

He woke me up at midnight with warm chocolate cake. Cake and Irish hot chocolate. Cake in bed for me is like how most women feel about buying cute new shoes. I love cake.

We shared the cake and he offered a day, probably Monday, to look forward to, in which we would do nothing but take the kids to the lake for a picnic. Just the 4 of us. And that I did need more sleep and he just...well he just was worried. He traced his finger across my forehead and tucked my too-long bangs behind my ear and commented that I never wear earring anymore.

I pointed out that he didn't need to be so worried about my earrings. They're in an Altoids tin in my jewelry box. I just usually don't bother with them. In case he swallows one.

He laughed again. With cake in his teeth. I laughed too when I saw that. And the rest of the cake rolled off the plate halfway across the bed. He picked it up with one hand and threatened to throw it at me.

Oh it's on now.

I am so bad. Under the guise of being injured (find that silver lining Bridget) I asked him to cool it and I kneeled against him and asked for a kiss. Who's not going to oblige a kiss right then? Especially when I looked oh so stupid in a camisole, underwear, bedhead and cake? What an ensemble! I should go out like that.

He closed his eyes and was giving me one of his earth-tilting kisses, and I pulled back and grabbed his hand, smushing it into his nose. The hand that was holding the cake.

Those sheets will never be the same. He had cake in his ear. I possibly had cake in places I can't talk about in public.

We made amends in the shower.

Which brings me back to needing sleep, because we had to change the sheets in the middle of the night.

Did I mention I love cake?

There she is.

It's muggy-muggy today!

Reminds me of Ayaka's English Lessons, when she teaches Rika Ishikawa how to say it's a very humid day. We spent weeks once walking around imitating her "It's very muggy muggy!" It was cute.

Well it's humid. I went from wishing it wasn't -27 to wishing it wasn't +27. Why can't it just be 20 all year around? But with seasons. Please?

I got out all the fans and to think 2 nights ago I turned on the electric blanket because the sheets were so cold. I went out and got a pizza for dinner since the house is an oven anyway. I'm not cooking. I don't feel like barbecueing. I don't feel like defrosting anything big either. I'm surrounded by food here.

I actually feel really self destructive these days. It's supposed to be part of the 'process'. I don't want to be part of the process. I want to be away from the process and back to being me again.

Bless my proactive Jake, he's always trying to keep me on track. He makes me eat (did I mention I don't eat sometimes? I'll make sure everyone else does, and I'll skip seven meals and almost pass out in the shower because I don't pay attention. That went over really well, let me tell you). He makes me go to the dumb physical therapy. He takes me to the counselor. I think I would have ditched all of it by now. A week of nothing but appointments and running around and it's too fast for me. I need time to process things. He likes them dealt with and gone so happy life resumes. He's desperate for me to be happy, and not scared. Oh God, is that not the greatest thing in the world?

He got my spinning wheel out and put it in the front hall near the living room. And put all my fiber in a big basket beside it. For when the sling is gone and I feel like spinning.

He has rounded up the most motley bunch of babysitters, chauffeurs and entertainment a girl could ever wish for. Again, I love everyone but I'm such an introvert. I want to sleep. He figures if I sleep too much I will withdraw. He gets despondent when I withdraw and yet I need it so bad. I won't withdraw from him, from the kids, just from the rest of the world.

Maybe he'll read this. I can't even explain how I feel but I'm done with all this 'healing'. I'd like to wallow instead. Just for a bit.

And post-traumatic stress is a bitch. A really nasty bitch. When I see someone move out of the corner of my eye I jump fifty feet. I was running the bath for the kids last night and I turned off the water 4 times to listen. To listen for what? The kids were in the bathroom, I locked the door behind us. Jake was downstairs. Dumb. Really dumb.

I think I found myself today. That or the crazy girl came back from the circus.

Okay, meet the rest of my family.

Wednesdays sometimes bring two posts, maybe three if you missed a few days.

It's out! The new Ghost Rider trailer if you've been patiently waiting for it as long as I have.

And now some blog business. Try to keep up, or at least pretend to. I won't tell.

If you've been with me for a while you know that Trey's name isn't really Trey. Bunny is my 5 yr old son and Birdie is my 6 yr old daughter. Right, except those were nicknames. Of course. Trey was C, who got his nickname when he got glasses and grew a beard and morphed into Trey Anastasio, from Phish, one of my favorite jam bands and the only music that would ever put Henry (bunny) to sleep.

So C is Cole. If you ever meet him and he shows you pictures of his beautiful blonde kids, and they look like twins but they're not, run. He is charming, but Just go.

Birdie is Ruth. Bunny is Henry. Ruth and Henry are my life and they are the two best things to ever come out of this mess that is my life. And I hated going back and changing names when I was done writing. Everyone else on the internet uses real names, for cryin' out loud. Everyone I know is tuning in to this like a soap opera anyhow.

Bridget and Jacob are our real names, but that was already shared info. You'll meet my friends as we go. Hi. Meet my crazy universe. Let's continue.

Tuesday, 23 May 2006

One-man show.

Today's solitary culinary karaoke is brought to you by James Blunt.

No, he wasn't singing Beautiful. But that's funny because that's what everyone would assume. Oh internet, you know us too well sometimes.

Jake was singing Wisemen. And cooking grilled cheese and french fries. And mixing up the words excruciatingly.

It's not:

Look who's in love now,
It's on me. It's on me.
Those three Wise Men,
They've got a city by the sea.


Look who's alone now,
It's not me. It's not me.
Those three Wise Men,
They've got a semi by the sea.

Me? No, I won't correct him, I just take movies of him singing and threaten to post them on the internet. Some Youtubage extortion in exchange for a plate of food? I tried.

James Blunt? I know. I'm just happy he finally stopped playing Xavier Rudd. While Xav is great and all it became a steady diet over the weekend and I can't pull CDs off the pile with one hand. The stack is too tall and all the good ones seem to be at the bottom. I'm at the mercy of a madman here. An impossibly cute madman who really loves cheesy love songs to go with a cheesy dinner.

My evil plot is to get him to sing along to any of my Switchfoot CDs because that would be way neat-o.

Got to ask yourself the question,
Where are you now?

Monday, 22 May 2006

How we met, or the longest post in the universe.

This took a long time to write out. How to give people just enough of an idea of how we met without writing down every single detail. Well, here's most of it. Take it or leave it. Go have a nap in the middle of it. It's very long and very difficult but maybe it explains a lot. Or not.

The summer of 1997 I was 26 years old. I had a car, a husband of 4 years and a cat, a nice big flat near the beach and a bunch of cool friends, friends since I was about 7, friends whose parents had cottages up and down the east coast. Some on lakes, some on the beach. I worked days at a bank, Trey worked nights and weekends. Hey, we never saw each other but we were hard workers, saving for a house, a family, everything we ever wanted. I wasn't going to sit home on the long weekends and miss out. But I wasn't dumb either. I stayed with my girfriends (in groups no less) and rarely drank, and never was alone with a guy who wasn't Trey.

Not like I could. No one messed with his wife. Trey was the badass of the group. I was the barbie doll. Or something, I'm trying to give you the visual. Think very low maintenance barbie. Please? Tomboy Barbie.

So one weekend I drove up to the beach late. I was working overtime and I was so tired. But I wanted to get there and beat the Saturday traffic. I arrived at my friends' cottage around 9:30. The party was in full swing, there were so many people I didn't know. I grabbed a vodka cooler that was passed out to me and I said my hellos. The cooler hit a bit harder than I expected so I went down to the water, to the hammock that I loved to hang out in.

There was a guy already sitting in it. Rocking slowly. Holding a beer. It was very dark. I asked him if I could have a turn in the hammock because I had just driven out from the city and I was zonked.

He said he really didn't want to go back up to the house but he would make room if I wanted to share it.

I rolled my eyes to no avail, since it was dark and told the guy that I wasn't interested. Because, oh my god I was so tired. Just get out.

He laughed and asked me what wasn't I interested in.

Someone finally flicked on the patio lights right then. They were strung all the way around the property.

My god, what a good-looking man. He sat there grinning at me, enjoying his beer and his peace and quiet. I swayed a bit on my feet and he jumped up and took my arm and helped me crawl into the hammock. After a couple of minutes of trying to sit properly together he gave up and put his arm around me. He was about 5 inches from my face, and cute as he was, I was annoyed and I tried to push him out, I really didn't feel good and I was married. He said he really was harmless and that I looked really pale. I slurred something to the effect that I have a much-sought-after alabaster Irish complexion and then I promptly passed out cold.

The next morning I woke up with a killer headache. I was still in the hammock, still in the arms of this guy, who was asleep with his face buried in my neck, our arms wrapped around each other. His jacket was over me. I didn't really remember him. I think I flipped out right around then. My friends were calling out and running down the path.

I fell out of the hammock and then, so did he. Everyone was yelling. They thought I had been kidnapped. They found out one of the guys had put roofies in a bunch of the coolers the girls had. He admitted it after they left out of guilt. Then when they were trying to round up and pour out all the opened bottles no one could find me. They couldn't see me in the hammock because of the man and his coat.

Okay, this is looking good. Trey is on his way, everyone is flipping out.

We finally calmed down. Jacob introduced himself. He was the older brother of one of the girls, who had dragged him with her for a designated driver but then she didn't want to leave after all so he was hanging out, avoiding the party because he's not really a partier-type. When I stumbled down to the water he thought I was very very drunk and he was going to suggest I cool off and sit down but then I passed out and he didn't want to leave me alone in case I drowned or an equally drunk guy found me and raped me or something.

I wanted to go to the emergency room, drugs really freak me out and I couldn't really wake up. I sat back down. I wanted to wait for Trey though. Jacob put his coat back around my shoulders and sat with his arm around me for support. Everyone else was busy planning to kill the guy who had brought the drugs without getting the police involved. Why I will never know.

Trey finally arrived and at first he thought Jacob had given me drugs. Once he established that Jacob was looking out for me he apologized and then he took me back home. I think I slept the rest of that long weekend. I slept in Jacob's coat.

Friday morning Jacob called the flat. His younger sister gave him my number. He wanted to see how I was doing, and also could he get his coat back? It was a favorite. He asked if I would meet him at a coffee shop near the university that weekend. Sure, he had to have his coat.

When I got there he had on that grin again. He bought me a coffee and I gave him his coat and I formally introduced myself. We talked about what we both did, and to my surprise Jacob told me he was starting school again, taking his masters in divinity. Okay Bridget, good move then to pass out in the arms of a potential minister. I apologized for my behavior the night of the party and he reminded me I had been drugged and there was nothing to apologize for.

Then he said he really wished I wasn't married.

Oh man, did he have to say that? I briefly wished I wasn't too. Honestly I did. But I started to gather up my coat and bag to leave. He stood up and grabbed my hand, and he said he was sorry he said that but he hadn't stopped thinking about me all week but that he could respect my circumstances. I told him he had to stop right there, I wasn't interested in him, I was married. For a long time, and besides, we were trying to start a family.

Then he asked if he could just be my friend. We had the same friends in common, we were the same age and we shared some sort of connection he couldn't articulate. He was completely right. I said he couldn't do it and that if he was just going to lust after me then forget it. My husband would kill him. He laughed again. Oh what a great laugh. He said he could do it and that God had brought me into his life. I reminded him God brought him into my life and he said we were even.

I didn't see him again for almost a year. He didn't call, out of respect or being busy and I didn't know his number. Life went on. I thought about him every now and then, wondering how such a cute guy could want to be a minister. Sometimes I thought that's why he was so cute-God rewards people who believe in Him by making them very good looking.

Early in December I attended a cocktail reception at a gallery. I was newly pregnant, very newly pregnant, sick as a dog and trying to put on a face for an hour or so to support my friend's show. I went outside on the balcony at the gallery and tried to quell the nausea. Someone stuck a bottled water under my nose.

Care for a drink? Still sealed?

I knew that voice. I think the grin split my face in half before my eyes made it to his face. It was Jacob.

Hi Bridget. His eyes twinkled. Oh dear god. I took the water and opened it and drank some. Then I said Hi Jacob. Nice to see you again.

We grinned. Deja vu, I wavered again. Dizzy. Nauseous.

Then he asked me if I was okay. We laughed and I said no, but this time being sick was a happy occasion. I was pregnant! He gave me a very nice proper hug and said congratulations. I asked him how his studies were going and we chatted for a couple of hours. I finally left and he walked me to my car and I remember holding his arm so I didn't wipe out on the ice. He said he hoped he'd see me before another year passed because so much would change for me in the next year. I asked if he was going to the annual Christmas party thrown by friends who do a huge huge party. He said he was, so I said we would see him then.

The party never took place. Instead the next time I saw Jacob was at the hospital. My best friend stopped taking her insulin. She fell into a diabetic coma and died. I drove for an hour through a blizzard to get to the hospital and I didn't make it in time to say goodbye. Christmas was a week away. She was supposed to be at my baby's birth next summer. I was so angry. I never saw it coming. She had stopped taking her insulin.

I spent the night sitting in the family room with Jacob. I couldn't leave, I wasn't in any condition to drive and the roads were scary anyway. Our other friends drifted away out of shock, grief. A group went down to the chapel. I thought Jacob would go but he sat back and put his arm around me and didn't say a word. I didn't say a word. We sat there and stared at the wall for hours. I didn't cry, I just sat. He somehow just knew not to talk. When the sun came up I asked him if he would pray with me. If he would lead, because I wanted it out loud.

He said the most beautiful prayer that day. I can't remember a word of it.

And after that he stepped in and became a best friend. Not to replace the one I lost or anything, but it just happened. Because God put him here to watch over me. And he has.

Sunday, 21 May 2006


Okay so it's a blog genre by itself, as it turns out. Relationships. Ben showed me an article on "Getting the most of your blogging". He's surprised I don't blog about the kids much. Too many bad days spread across long cold indoor winters where I didn't quite emerge the same girl I started out as. The Shining, folks. Being stuck inside does things to people and by the end of the winter I wasn't so nice and I didn't feel like writing an endless stream of how I felt because the internet isn't really such a private place and someday my kids might find out that some days I wished I was far far away from here. That's not so fair, is it? They'll know it's me, I had this nickname before they were born. So I chose to write about me and my life interacting with everyone in it instead. The men in my life. How hard I love, and why.

So not a mommy-blog, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

But mostly when I'm in pain or stressed out I write so honestly I wish I would just shut the hell up and not spill my guts. Usually I need to get it out more than I need to keep it in for my sanity's sake. So wow, yes, Bridget unabridged. Unapologetic.


Something I've been noticing lately. Touch. Affection. Needing it like air.

Touch specifically. Jacob's touch. He's an affectionate guy. Well, he's got his 'professional affection' (so I call it), with handshaking, light cheek kisses and the occasional warm hug. But with me, he's a seriously affectionate man. He's always hugging me, holding me, holding my hand. Kissing me. Lips, nose, forehead. Shoulder. He strokes my hair. Absently even. Like he has no idea. It's like he's confirming that I am indeed here with him, always in total contact. That's exactly what it is. He holds my face when we're in close. He traces my eyelashes, my bottom lip that he loves to run his thumb across. He does that and I am on the floor. I love that one thing in particular. He trails his fingers up my leg at the dinner table even.

He totally can't get enough of me. Ditto that. It's not sick. Everyone is jealous. I think.

I'm terrible for touching people all the time. Trey used to say he wasn't a monkey, leave him alone. I am always grabbing the kids when they go by and stealing hugs and kisses. I hug my friends. Now I have a willing victim that is mine all mine. I can run my hands through his hair, I can trace his ears, his jaw, his stomach muscles and he never complains ever. I think he loves it. He sleeps with his arms locked around me. I can't move when I sleep, my torso is too sore. He found a comfortable way to put his arms and it feels so good, it takes away the pain while I sleep. And when I open my eyes he's still there. Right in my face.

Okay it is sick isn't it? Most people beg off-too hot, gotta sleep now, go away. We don't care. That first night when he didn't leave we came full circle with the sleeping wrapped around each other business because that was how we met.

Yes I totally did just say that.

But is it okay if I mention we were fully clothed? No? Too bad. I'll tell the rest tomorrow. I can't feel my arm anymore.


Last night Jake and bunny were sitting out in the backyard on the step sharing a sandwich. Jake only made it back a few moments before bedtime and he always takes some time to give both kids his separate, undivided attention each day. He had a ham sandwich with pickles, and when bunny found out he begged Jake just to give up the pickles and let bunny eat them all. Jake complied and they enjoyed their time.

When they came back in Jake remarked again how surprised he is that bunny loves spicy things. He says that every time. We didn't think bunny would ever tolerate spicy foods.

It is a wonder, for when bunny was born, he had what the doctors all said was colic. He cried all the time. I knew it wasn't colic, colic doesn't affect a baby every minute of the day. When he was born Trey was carrying on with a coworker. He came home late, or not at all. I had post partum depression. I was stressed out. I had an almost two year old and a one month old baby and a wayward husband and I thought that was the end of the world. It was all I could do just to get through each single day.

One night I thought I couldn't make it at all. Bunny had been crying for probably 3 days straight, when he was awake. When he was asleep I tried to run around doing laundry, cleaning, cooking, anything because when he was awake all I did was rock him and try to keep birdie happy. I hadn't slept in over a week and I was half out of my mind. I called Trey and told him I needed him to come home on time after work, that I couldn't do it. He hung up on me.

I sat down on the floor in the hallway with both kids and cried. We were all crying. Then there was a knock at the door. It was Jacob, stopping by to say hello on his way home. He loved to stop in and see us and play with the kids when he had time. He opened the door and looked at us. I was standing there with a baby in each arm and tears running down my face and I couldn't even talk.

He came right in, got birdie bathed and down for the night and walked around with bunny lying full out on his forearm while he rubbed his back. He called a friend and had him drop off take out and diapers. He did laundry. He made another appointment for the next day at the doctors for bunny and then he held us both until we fell asleep.

I got up around 3 am when bunny woke up to be fed. I could hear Jake quietly arguing on the phone. Which meant Trey didn't come home at all.

I came out into the living room with bunny to fed him and change him just in time to hear Jacob say You have everything in the world right here. I would kill for this to be my family, for Bridget to be my wife and you're throwing it all away. You have everything, man.

Then he turned around and saw me.

He hung up the phone. And he came over and took the baby and told me to go back to sleep. He would feed bunny and put him back down, and he told me we were everything and all I had to do was say the word and we could go with him.

Oh my fucking God, I was so stubborn then.

Jacob went with us to the pediatrician the next morning and bunny started taking medication for reflux and he stopped crying at last. I pulled myself together, determined to get through this life that I had made. I was going to be more than responsible and become a martyr to make up for the absence of my husband. I told Jake I was okay and it was just a really long week and things weren't so bad.

I stood there and shook and lied through my teeth to him and he knew it. He gave me a bitter smile and said I didn't have to live like this. He begged me not to live like this. He put his arms around me and the baby and held us and I almost wavered. Almost. No one hugs me like that. Just Jacob. I had known him for 4 years by then.

He left but that was the beginning of our friendship moving into something stronger, because he became my protector. And we had that stupid conversation probably twice more before I finally did leave Trey.

It's a strange life when pickles can evoke such bittersweet memories.

Saturday, 20 May 2006


First off, for Potor, the requisite spam love,

Rose-colored pressed meat
I like to slice you thinly
spam burgers are yum!

and for Ms. D, the ever deviating wonder, a tag I almost missed,

1) What's your favourite colour?

-Green, all shades but moreso the paler ones like celery, mint, celadon. There's something calming and restful and fresh about green. It also symbolizes spring and new beginnings to me.

2) Why do you do what you do? Why are you working on what you want to become?

-I'm a writer/stay at home mom. I'm hoping to give my kids a good foothold in being independent thinkers and having high self-esteem so I have spent the last two years homeschooling them. When they go to school this fall I can devote a little more attention to writing. I write because I am called to write. It's a feeling. I have to.

3) What do you want me to go away knowing about you?

-That I'm just like you. I have joys and fears and bad days and good days and I fuck up and grow up and make mistakes. That I'm not a doll. That I get tired of being evaluated based on my looks. I get tired of being looked at.

4) What is your biggest fear?

-Besides heights? Being alone. Having absolutely no one at that last hour when you need someone the most.

5) Do you always tell the truth no matter what the cost?

-No. Some truths only serve to hurt so what's the point? If it won't change the circumstances then I don't bother. But you know something? Thinking back if I had admitted to myself that I really really liked Jake and spent so much time wishing he was in Trey's place would I be in this mess? Probably, for I try to avoid regret and believe so much in things happening for a greater purpose.

This is way too deep for a Saturday morning. From spam to life's decisions, the tags are done and I love tags.

Jacob has a wedding today. He was ironing his shirt this morning, for he does indeed dress up for weddings. He wears a suit and a tie even. Oh the hotness. I can't even stand it. He shaved his face. Kill me now. That alone gives me renewed energy to attempt to jump him. We're very creative these days based on the fact that I'm wrecked.

Okay, too much information.

Byebye. Have a great weekend.

Friday, 19 May 2006

Happy overall.

Since the parade of ups and downs never ends let me say this-I love the moments when Jacob kisses my forehead, looks back at me just when I need him to to make sure I'm okay and I love that when I call him in the middle of the day to tell him I love him he sighs and smiles and I can hear it right through the phone. And the kids screaming for him all through the house when he comes back at dinner time. Jake! Jake is home! Jake! It's glorious. And it totally offsets all the other bullshit we're going through. All of it. He was worth it and oddly enough I would go through all of it again because I love him and I just wish I would have admitted there was something between us back in 1997 when we met and I couldn't stop thinking about him...for almost 10 years straight.

Yup. Love is grand.

But right now I have lilacs on my table from a walk with the kids with Ben, and he actually did leave some cake for us for later. Ben has gone for the day, off to chase women instead of babysitting them and Jake and I are going to sit on the porch tonight and sip some wine and do nothing except he promised to read to me a little. I love listening to him read aloud. We're working our way through my Hemingway collection beginning with A Moveable Feast and it sounds so beautiful when read by a male voice. Jake's voice.


    When people talk, listen completely. Most people never listen.
    ~Ernest Hemingway

Thursday, 18 May 2006

Blog, meet Ben.

No more drugs. It's better to feel the pain and stop pushing myself than to feel okay and overdo it and wind up with tears streaming down my face over something stupid like trying to hang up a shirt that fell off the hanger. Try that with one hand. Yeah. No personality changes, just massive amounts of frustration. Between that and the overwhelming urges to hang off the gingerbread at the peak of the roof in my dreams I chose to put away the painkillers for now.

Ben is here today hanging out (playing bodyguard) while Jake works. He's got a 4 day weekend from his cubicle at the insurance company and so he's freaking me out by telling my kids about all the hot girls he met last weekend. He's so inappropriate I can't stop laughing and it hurts so much but it's too funny to stop. I can't even stand it. My son, who is four, just told Tucker, I mean Ben, that he knows what boobies are. Mommy even has two. So there! Ben points out that Mommy has nice boobies.

Oh geez. Stop making me laugh. It hurts like hell.

My mom left this morning. She's the primary caregiver for my grandmother so she didn't want to be gone long and I have a ton of support here just from Jake, from friends, from the women's group at church who filled my deep freeze yesterday with enough food to feed Bridget's army. I think she just wanted to hug me and see for herself what condition I was in. My house has revolving doors.

And new locks. Jacob changed all the locks himself but it's not good enough. Apparently Trey is absolutely grief-stricken that he laid a hand on me. He was drunk and crazed and I'm still afraid of him and he wants to talk to me so he can apologize and make sure I'm okay. He's not allowed anywhere near me. The worst part of this is the knowledge that when he came into the house I was washing dishes, which puts me in a position where I hear nothing-running water takes away all other sounds. He knows this. I always used to wait and do it at 9 pm, once the kids are asleep because otherwise I can't hear them call. He knows this better than anyone. And he arrived at 9 pm, and I was supposed to be alone but Jacob had come by to collect his books and I had asked him to stay. And I didn't know Trey was in the house until he grabbed me.

So I have babysitters like Ben. Ben who regularly propositions me and calls me princess milf. Which Jacob tolerates only because he doesn't want to seem square. It was Ben who had the task to pick up Trey from downtown and take him back to the house where he's staying. Ben made sure there was no alcohol in that house and then ripped a strip off Trey and told him if he ever touched anyone in anger ever again BEN would kill him and that he is very lucky that Ben wasn't there too that night and that everyone will be supporting me for the next several weeks and Trey had better get his shit together. I think I stopped listening to him there. I think I pissed him off. I'm pissed off, Ben.

And now he just asked if I wanted cake because he isn't planning to save any for preacher boy. I love my friends. Really I do. Even the weird ones.

Too high to think of titles

Wow, the lucidity with which I wrote yesterday was way more than I expected to see this morning.

My mind is still addled with the lovely magnificent drugs, and I can see why people take them recreationally, because if they're this orgasmic when I'm all broken up physically, just imagine how amazing I would feel on drugs when I'm completely healed. I'm kidding.

I have blessings to count today. I got to see my own arm bending freakishly the other way, which is the highlight really. I can now claim abuse, which means the divorce will happen much faster than before, and Jake and the kids are safe. Trey's friends are supporting him without letting him off the hook. And I am not alone as I thought I was.

But then again, this is Bridget your autopilot talking. Not sure how Bridget the real girl feels because I can't find her. I think she ran away to join the circus because of her bendy arm. That's good because I don't think she's really doing so hot.

Wednesday, 17 May 2006

Why you should pay attention when they tell you to change the locks.

I'm going to try and be brief, typing with a sling isn't as easy as it looks.

A month ago I was ignorantly as happy as I thought I was ever going to be. Amazing how time flies and crawls all at once. And early this week I wrote that things were calming down. Boy how wrong that turned out to be.

Because last night Trey went to jail.

He came barging into the house and tossed me into a wall. Then he picked me up from the floor by the throat and smashed my head into the door, possibly more than once, I wouldn't know, the stars prevented me from counting and then the blackness took away the fear. His stupid handprint is still on my neck. And his stupid ass is in jail, because Jacob was out by the garage talking to the neighbors and heard Trey raging at me. The kids woke up. I didn't even think he was drunk but apparently he was. He didn't go after Jake, he came after me. He said he was going to kill me.

And I had defended him when Jacob asked me very very seriously if Trey had ever laid a hand on me. All he ever did aside from the frisbee plates was twist my wrist a few times to keep me in the room when I wanted to leave. I thought that was bad.

He left me with a fractured collarbone, a concussion, he dislocated my elbow and bruised my ribs and my back. I am very very frightened. I spent the whole remainder of last night and most of this morning possibly having every part of my body x-rayed and some of it cat-scanned. Tons of needles. Painkillers are so wonderful. Right now I feel nothing, and yet my body is wrecked. We are at Jake's house now. I'm learning all sorts of new phrases, like temporary prevention orders and release conditions. Sign-out against medical advice? A new favorite. And somehow I'm thrilled that I'm still alive. Amazed. I can't sleep. Ha. They told Jake to watch for personality changes. I heard the words brain injury. And battered wife. This is not who I am.

Jake showed herculean restraint by not killing Trey. I know he came so close. I was told it took three officers to get him off Trey and even then they had to threaten to arrest him too to get him to cool off. He wasn't even supposed to be there. Trey knew that. He planned it.

Charges are being laid. Apparently I don't even have to decide, the police do it. The flashing lights outside and all the people and everything scared the kids. We're seeing a domestic violence counsellor. Thankfully they had stayed in their rooms with the doors shut because they were scared by Trey's yelling and they didn't see him hurt me. Small thankful moments. Because I can't protect them from their own father and that's the scariest part. I didn't think he would hurt me ever and so I can't believe he wouldn't try to hurt them too.

After twenty years together you really think you know someone. Which is why I'm sharing this, because well, this isn't something I wanted to share but women should be aware of exactly how bad things can get, even with someone you know so well. I thought I knew Trey, but I didn't know the monster who came into the house last night. I also thought I was so tough-I was prepared to harm anyone who ever might come in and try to harm us. I never had a chance.

My mom is coming out tomorrow morning and blissfully I am going to sleep now and then take more of these drugs. Because they keep the shock of what happened from bugging me at all. Or maybe that's a defence mechanism. Either one is fine, I like it this way.

Tuesday, 16 May 2006

March of the inchworms.

We went for a long walk today, mostly to pick dandelions, watch ladybugs and scout out lilac and forsythia bushes that we liked. I got lots of xeriscaping ideas just from checking out yards I admired and I admit finally I really love the look of the well kept shabby chic-style white painted everything that is chipped just enough to be perfect, because it still reminds me of my grandparents' old house.

When we came home we had to pick over each other like monkeys, because we were once again covered with little green inchworm friends. I wonder how many are trapped in my ponytail. The kids loved them but all I could think of was that once again the city will be slayed by the cute little herbivores who will eat every leaf in sight, on a warpath similar to when the grasshoppers destroyed Pa's wheat that first summer on plum creek in the Little House series.

At least we can band our trees. Pa's field didn't have a chance.

They started over with nothing and they survived. I will survive and I have more than they did.

I have two beautiful kids, my violin, my spinning wheel and enough hope and courage to get. through. this.

It takes me forever to work through change. I don't move very quickly in reality and I warm up so slowly. I inch my way through life making sure I won't get squished, much like the little green worms, who seem so helpless and fragile alone but can leave trees bare-branched and reeling from their onslaught. I need an onslaught. Or something. A Bridget army! To slay all the obstacles and just let me live. Happily ever after. Because that's all I've ever wanted.

Finer points.

First up, a little blog business-email is back up on my profile! And a dedicated gmail address just for this site, because I got tired of hatemail on my personal email address and took it off for a bit. And I love mail so feel free to write me, even if it's bad. Because I will only look at it on days when it won't sting so much.

saltwaterprincess (at) gmail (dot) com

Now, I've had nice requests through email for more info. For lots of info. There are holes where information should be, because I have left things out on purpose.

I will say please don't think that Jacob's soon-to-be-ex wife is a victim in this. She didn't even live in this province. They got married back home after less than a year of dating, then she went off to school and her apartment in another city and Jacob decided to come out here when there was an opening. Yes, I know he followed me here. He loves me. It's very clear, and it always was. She came out here maybe 3 times and she's not exactly upset, she's relieved. Long distance is hard, and they weren't so much soul mates. Out of respect to her and to Jake I didn't say much about that. They made a mistake. She married him because she was afraid of not having anyone and he married her to try to forget about me.

And no I haven't talked of how Jacob and I met or details of our friendship over the past ten years because honestly, I look like an idiot when I think back. Who isn't an idiot when they're 25 and they don't know who they are quite yet? It's been a bittersweet, funny, amazing, painful ride for most of us, I think. Jake insists I wasn't an idiot but he wasn't inside my head so much back then. I can see now how things happened the way they did and why and it is my fault and I will be accountable for it.

Monday, 15 May 2006

Public declarations.

There is nothing like being formally introduced to the members of Jacob's parish during his announcements as the love of his life when they're all aware he is recently separated. Somehow it's okay to people after he explains that we danced around each other's hearts for almost 10 years. Within hours I think everyone knew our history together and we were warmly welcomed officially, as I have been to the church many times before, just not with any regularity. That will change.

So most people knew me anyway. Or they knew of me. There was such a buzz in the sanctuary when he seated us at the front I feared a throng chasing me down with a scarlet letter was imminent. But it was a friendly throng, and I got a lot of over the pew shoulder pats, and people whispering their welcomes and smiling at us. It was difficult to carry out the conversations with leaning in quietly and whispering, as my hearing loss doesn't allow much room for large areas with lots of people. I mostly smiled and said thank you, for this is a very loving, supportive group that accepts everyone. Absolutely everyone. Even me.

Jacob had a hard time quieting everyone and finally asked them if they could wait and greet us at the end of the service, for Bridget has a hearing disability and would find it easier to talk aloud in the vestibule on our way to the luncheon. I sort of was grateful and wanted to kill him all at once, for I had been happily pretending I could hear everyone up until then. And cue the fresh round of sympathetic murmurs. They were killing me with kindness.

And with that Jake was on a roll. He's intoxicating to watch, if not because of his blonde good looks and conviction with which he speaks but because he is so expressive. His eyes, his hands are gesturing and he walks around a lot, he takes people's hands and speaks to them. He works his way around. He was born for this. He looks so adorable with the bangs and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his white button down shirt that he doesn't tuck in. Jeans. Jeans in church. Mom, take notice.

The lunch afterwards was so fun, with the men serving pancakes and strawberry shortcake and the children passing out nosegays of flowers to all the mothers. We all felt like queens. And I believe the oldest mother there was 93, bless her heart. She told me to be happy, for Jacob is a 'real catch'. Then she giggled, for he has that effect on women.

I assured her I was so very happy. And she squeezed my hand and said Good, dear. Good.

We left the park at suppertime, still stuffed, but we had planned to meet Trey at the house for dinner and bedtimes and Sundays are Jacob's busiest day so we left him behind. Trey brought flowers and wished me a Happy Mother's Day and produced these painted rocks that the kids had created back home at the beach. So cool! We're going to put them in the rock garden in the backyard today. We made a really light supper together and he read stories to the kids while I cleaned up. Once they were in bed he left and I had a few minutes to myself to read, which was nice actually. Private moments don't come by easily and the day was so free of the stress I feared it would be full of. Relief.

When Jake finally came back we made tea and sat in the porch and talked for a few hours. About everything, about nothing and about the day. It was surprising, enlightening and comforting. We've got a groove now finally and everything has ratcheted back to normal emotionally.

What a nice day.

Sunday, 14 May 2006

Full day.

The kids are back, full of new habits and slightly wild from running free in the sun on the fields back home. Well, mostly sun. They played hard, loved up their cousins and didn't miss me at all, or so I thought, until everyone burst into tears the moment they plowed through the door at arrivals. So they missed me a lot but they did have fun.

They come back to a happy mom, a mom who pulled herself together finally. A rested, fed and loved mom. So Happy Mother's Day all around.

I'm going to church now. Jacob wants me to be there for the Mother's Day service and brunch and secretly I love watching him preach to a full house. So I'm putting on a pretty dress and my favorite shawl and got the kids all dressed up and we're going to sit in the front row. I'm nervous. Weird. Excited? Maybe. I can't quite place this feeling.

Have a great day!

Friday, 12 May 2006

Random Friday.

I'm sucking the life out of my last afternoon of uninterrupted writing and these random thoughts keep flying into my head so I'm going to park them here. Random. Unedited, uncensored, unrelated and unhinged. Bridget at her most gloriously uncomposed. Love her or hate her. Tie me Up! Tie me down! But this is not today's entry, this is nonsense. Go here to read today's entry.

   1. I want a life-sized angel statue for the garden. Not because it's spiritual or significant, but because the cover of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil was so striking to me. Of course, it was a cemetary. Can't win them all.
   2. I was following links last night on blogs and came across a stack of 20s or 30s portraits of women and girls posing with the moon. I can't find the blog now but the pictures were so neat. Help anyone?
   3. Do ladybugs bite really? We have so many, and they seem harmless.
   4. I think I almost killed Jacob last night. Everything is new and different and yet perfect. I loved it. He loved it. He has no hang ups. Everything goes. Anything goes. Shhhh. I can't stop thinking about it. Makes me want to run down to the church and throw myself on his desk.
   5. I finished the filet piece for my mom last night and now I have to send it overnight. This is going to be spendy and I forgot to take a picture before I wrapped it and it was the first piece of lace that ever came out really nice before blocking. Damn.

I think I'm going to find 5 o'clock somewhere and toast them and try to reel in my brain before I lose it. It's the Friday afternoon euphoria, the calm before the storm. The ever-lovin' madness, folks.

Simple words.

I have to spend today cleaning, getting more groceries and opening back up the house since the kids will be back tomorrow. They're excited to come home. I missed them so much. Everyone is anxious to get back into routine and we're all more than anxious to get on with life. Or begin our new lives or start over or make up time or whatever it is that we're doing, because it's all new to me.

Jacob sometimes seems as if he has the inside edge, like he just knew exactly how everything was going to play out. Career-wise he's slightly shaken because he put me first. He doesn't do that. I don't want him to do that. God always comes first with Jake, no matter how messed up his life is. And he's at a crossroads now inside his heart. I think the sabbatical will be a good thing if he gets approved. Cross your fingers. It might be long delayed because he is supposed to submit his plans the year before it is to take place. At any rate he still has a month's worth of vacation and a month of education weeks he can take if things get too hard for him. He is so strong but he's taken a hard look at his actions and he told me God must have decided I am rather special to push me to the forefront of Jake's life so consistently. I tell him he was sent by God to look after me. Maybe God knew how much I would need Jake. And Jake very simply reminded me that if I believe in God's forgiveness than I will have it.

But frankly I don't know what the hell I am talking about anymore. It's complicated and half-stupid and half-wonderful and I know how to be a lover, a mother, a wife, a friend. I don't know how to be a girlfriend, a divorced woman, a single mother or one of God's children.

It's like the first day of preschool and I don't know where to sit.

I've had some strange calls too. People wonder if having been away from Trey for a whole week might make me miss him too and maybe they think I'm going to bounce back to him once again.

I'm not. I don't miss him. I haven't missed him for the first time ever. It doesn't feel weird anymore because I'm not up in the air anymore. And I try not to dwell on the dark spots even though sometimes they swallow me whole.

And I asked Jake for help, for figuring out how to do what he does, to live one day at a time and not get caught up in trying so hard to wait out the present in hopes that the future will be better or different and he smiled and went into his televangical parody in which he presses his hand on your forehead and raises the other up to the sky. Then he cracked up. It wasn't the time for that, I was being serious.

He told me if you don't take the time to find life and laughter and fun out of every single day on earth then what a waste.

And Bridget, life is too good to waste. There is too much out there to do, see and feel and it's all for us. It's a gift and we'd be foolish not to accept it.

I think I'm mad at him for not telling me this back in 1997.

    And history books forgot about us and the bible didn't mention us
    The bible didn't mention us, not even once
    You are my sweetest downfall
    I loved you first , I loved you first

    ~Samson, Regina Spektor

Wednesday, 10 May 2006

He's all about the journey.

Last night I walk into the house after being outside for a long time gardening. I hear loud music and I go into the kitchen and Jake was there singing along at the top of his lungs to "You and Me" by Lifehouse. Oh so passionately singing his heart out. At the top of his lungs.

Here are the lyrics:
    What day is it? And in what month?
    This clock never seemed so alive
    I can't keep up and I can't back down
    I've been losing so much time

    Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do
    Nothing to lose
    And it's you and me and all of the people
    And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you

    All of the things that I want to say just aren't coming out right
    I'm tripping on words
    You've got my head spinning
    I don't know where to go from here

    Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do
    Nothing to prove
    And it's you and me and all of the people
    And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you

    There's something about you now
    I can't quite figure out
    Everything she does is beautiful
    Everything she does is right

    Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do
    Nothing to lose
    And it's you and me and all of the people
    And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you
    and me and all of the people with nothing to do
    Nothing to prove
    And it's you and me and all of the people
    And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you

    What day is it?
    And in what month?
    This clock never seemed so alive

I managed to record a lovely 15 second clip for future blackmail purposes on my cell phone, not for the amusing solitary culinary karaoke that I was not aware he practiced, but for the incredible conviction with which Jacob was singing the words. And when his folks come I'm going to show his mom and thank her for having him. And then I'll show the girls back home so they can fall over dead with jealousy. Because he sings well and all but oh my God the feeling behind it.

A welcome distraction from the mounting intensity around here, for Trey and the kids come back on Saturday.

Not going to become the porn blog.

Much as I tease him about it online, no, Jacob doesn't really mind if I write about him to the extent that I say it bothers him. I do that to protect him. Hello, this blog has practically become his fanclub. He's that awesome. I really need a new word, I've been using awesome since 1982. I think his ego gets a boost from the good things he reads that I think, even though I tell him these things every day now anyway. It used to be more of a surprise for him to read what I was thinking about him because we were with other people then. He says he likes it better this way. And I try to keep it um...sort of clean because his family reads, my family reads, and that's just yuck.

And speaking of fun, this week the email group has been offering up sacrificial lambs for celebrity lookalike month. I got Hannah Spearritt from S club 7. Just make the hair longer and that's me. So bizarre!

Jacob got a young Robert Redford. Which is close except add like 5 days beard growth.

Although put together it looks incestuous. It's not I swear. Jacob is my age.

Too funny. Next week is porn star lookalike. That's going to be so funny. We have topics that make the rounds just to keep everyone connected. It's a great way to keep in touch with the far flung friends and close ones who are working weird hours.

Update: I couldn't resist, I had to find a less-composed pic of Redford that would look more like Jake. I think I got it. I even did a double take. Wow.

Tuesday, 9 May 2006

He really does read this.

I got a phone call from Jacob a bit ago asking me to please not put intimate details of our life up here. Sexual ones I think he meant. Because he really doesn't want everyone to know how easily he can make me scream.


This is better than when I played telephone in grade three.

No seriously. I try to not be gratuitous and keep it in relevance to whatever I'm talking about.

But seriously. You put the new Tool album on the CD player and give me a glass of wine and I am your porn star for the night. Jacob is starting to beg for mercy just

He's not really as innocent as your typical preacher.

No, in fact, he's just a bit of a hair puller. I have confirmed he has a total fetish for my hair. What a riot.

Now that was gratuitous.

:) Happy Bridget.

Sunday, 7 May 2006

Because I can't not tell the world about this, even if it started as a fight.

Yesterday I had so much to do. Grocery shop, look after the gardens. My cabbage roses are coming up everywhere. I don't see the moonflowers yet but it's earlier. The coriander appears to be poking through too. I think the freesias are toast. And the backyard isn't going to make it. The grass is miserable. It's such a shady backyard it doesn't have a chance. I'm still going to rip up what's left of the grass that doesn't grow and do flower gardens and even a rock garden. An arbour, some vines. The lilacs. Gardening has been so cathartic I can dream about it at night instead of everything else.

Especially when 'everything else' is treating me like a china doll.

We had our first non-Trey-related fight. We've had some terrific yelling matches in the past however. Mostly with Jacob hollering about why on earth I would stay with someone who threw dishes at me. Or about why I hadn't called him sooner and he could have squared off with Trey instead of only coming in to pick up the pieces afterward.

He has a knight in shining armor complex because I gave him one. He says it's instinctive, genetic, a guy thing and that it just happens. He said it's an overwhelming urge. No other girls I know get treated quite like this. They change their own tires, carry their own groceries and aren't treated as if they might break in half.
Sometimes I think I got so used to turning to him for help that he feels obligated. All I have ever had to do with Jacob is hesitate for half a heartbeat and he would materialize to throw his coat over the puddle and take my hand.

He denies. Vehemently.

I protest. I was going to go buy a reel mower because the front yard is getting long. He said he would look after it.

He points out physical differences. So what? I asked him if I had ever emasculated him ever, and why he felt the need to play this role so....stereotypically nevertheless. And I'm not a feminist. Quite the opposite honestly.

He said,

I need to do this to show you that I'm capable. That I am strong and you can depend on me. It's symbolic. It's not about the stupid mower Bridge. It's about you discovering that you aren't alone and you don't have to do all this stuff. We're together now. It's fifty-fifty and you don't have to ask for help. I'm here and I'm not leaving.

I'm an adult. Apparently a very stubborn one. Bickering continues. I finally turned sideways to stare out the window and bit my lip because I really don't want to argue and I forced myself not to twirl the hair because I wasn't in the mood to be coy, conscious of it or not, and yet it was still the most relaxed argument ever. I can trust him, he's not going to throw plates or walk out and I can be as angry as I want. I become submissive. He gives the frown.

I burst into tears,

Don't look at me like that. I can't stand that frown. Don't be disappointed in me.

He finally got mad. He forgets I'm skittish. I become exactly what he says I am, fragile, breakable. My words? Useless.

He says I'm not useless, I am beautiful. And that he had no idea he had a look that stops people cold like that.

I point out that I get tiresome. I have so many flaws. I'm not so beautiful.

He stops talking very loudly with his frustrated orator voice and dropped to a whisper. And I will never ever forget that moment because if I get hit by a bus tomorrow well, it's okay now.

Bridget, if I could have made you with my own hands I wouldn't have done anything different.
Speechless. Still speechless and I got a chill writing that down. Speechless.

I point out the lack of lawnmower and the late hour.

Well, I pointed it out after I spent ten minutes staring into his eyes, wondering what I had ever done in my life to deserve Jacob. Because that will remain the single most beautiful moment of my life until the day I die. I can't make that clear enough and if everyone who reads it dies from the pall of jealousy, well, I don't care. I am changed forever.

I could not even catch my breath. He is beautiful.

We went and got the mower together.

Because nothing says forgiveness like a 7:45 pm trip to the garden centre at Canadian Tire.

Saturday, 6 May 2006

Wasabi Bridget

Jacob majestically refused to acknowledge the invisible spectre of the unbirthday, preferring instead to shoot for a romantic dinner in which I didn't have to lift a finger. Perhaps this was payback for the nice dinner I made for him the night before. Either way there's a wonderful amount of give-and-take going on, and I'm enjoying it to the fullest.

He put every string of white lights up that he could find, and even a few green ones from Christmas. He covered the ceiling of his screened-in porch with the lights and put out a low table and some cushions. He lit a single candle and poured some wine, and then surprised me with sushi.

I love Sushi. That would be putting it mildly, really. I get very enthusiastic when sushi is on the table. So we broke our funky take-out chopsticks and started choosing. I was exclaiming over all the cool choices (crab! shrimp! Oh eeeeeel! wee!) and I plucked up a bundle, dunked it in the wasabi and took a huge bite.

Yes, I was so excited I forgot to mix the wasabi with the soy sauce. I have done this before. I swear I am not a masochist.

Stabbing wasabi pain radiated right up my nose and exploded in my head.

Owies owies owies.

I covered my whole face with my napkin, my hands. I was trying to find a way to unhinge my body from the horrible pains in my head. And yet I couldn't stop laughing. Jacob didn't know if I was choking, laughing, crying or what to think. He finally stuck a glass of water in under the napkin and yelled for me to drink it.

Then I really started laughing. You know what happens if I'm laughing and I drink something?

Bridget should not be allowed out in public.

When I stopped laughing and caught my breath again Jacob started up. Laughing that is.

He laughed for a good ten minutes. AT me, not with me. So happy to be the entertainment I am.

When I regained my wonderful unladylike composure that I don't posess (keep up with me!) we continued eating only Jacob mixed the soy on my behalf. And he totally robbed me of wasabi. Thief. The food was so good and so was having another three-hour dinner.

Now if I can just make it through a day without making a spectacle of myself I would be a happy girl.

Oh, he just walked by. Still laughing. Grrrr.

Friday, 5 May 2006

I can hear myself breathe.

Today was my birthday. A rather quiet affair. No cake, no party and no fuss made. Because that is how I wanted it. It was the 'unbirthday'. I haven't answered the phone except to talk to my kids. No one else. Jacob went to work. I wrote again, I window-shopped. I left the gardens covered because of expected frost. I did almost nothing.

Sort of like the not-quite-mental patient from earlier in the week thrashing in an ocean of despair, I rode the wave of quiet routine to shore and then sat like a lump in the sand basking in the total and utter boredom.

Because I am an all or nothing type of girl.

It was awesome. I'm going to go and pour one glass of wine (just one, I'm not a masochist, people!) and toast myself for making it through one of the hardest years of my life. I'm kissing thirty-four goodbye.

Happy birthday to me.

Thursday, 4 May 2006

What? I have flaws?

Is it possible that nothing happened to write about yesterday? Pretty much. I got a few phone calls, one being from my dad who told me to slow down.

Yes Dad. No Dad. I'm fine Dad.

I miss my kids even more than I thought possible. It's very hard to sound happy on the phone with them, but they'll be back on the 13th and I can't wait. They are having a blast so that's the main thing.

Yesterday was sweetness and light in comparison. I did very little. I wrote some, I read some, and I cooked a really nice dinner for Jacob. And I thought about the fact that I can live with his faults, and he can live with mine. I make him sound like he's perfect, my rescuer, my knight in shining armor.

He is those things, to me at least. But he is human, he has faults too. Who doesn't? He sleeps with the windows open. Brrrrrr! He will not grocery shop until the only thing left is a ketchup packet in the fridge. He has this way of frowning when he's disappointed with you that would knock you flat if you're paying attention. He listens too hard. Sometimes I wish he would interrupt and just spill out his thoughts but he waits until I have prattled on and on, going off on tangents and eventually forgetting my point. And when I finally stop talking he waits a few beats just to make sure. And then he considers his thoughts. I bet it works in his counselling sessions but I sometimes want to argue with him a little faster.

Or at least remember the point I was trying to make.

Wait. These are my faults. Or at least they look like my issues when I write them out. Yes. I like to be warm when I sleep. I like to know there's food in the cupboards in case of emergency. I don't like that frown, never have, because Jake rarely disapproves of anything and when he does it isn't the end of the world, but you know you screwed up. He can be harsh. And my give and take needs of fighting for my life every time I have an argument are drama queen tactics he waits out with amusement.

He's very annoying but I am as well. I had no idea that bad habit of twirling my hair and looking at the floor when I'm trying not to be obnoxious and to measure my words was so compelling to him and in the past week I have learned it is a powerful weapon which is totally unfair to him, I know. Twice we were in a group of people and I did it and then I noticed he lost his train of thought completely. He let me listen to him rehearsing a speech for a dinner and he lost his place. What a riot. I shouldn't do that but I really needed the funny release. He asked me to find a habit that isn't so devastating (who's the drama queen now, I ask you?) Jerk. Kidding. He's adorable. I can't even stand it. Like cute overload sometimes and I want to pinch myself black and blue.


Hell has a Ferris wheel but so does heaven.

Did you know that? I know it now.

Details. I hardly know where to begin. 24 hours brings nothing but more screaming trips around the wheel and yet as a writer, part of my non-working routine is to force myself to blather on at the same time every day to keep the creative gears from rusting.

My kids are on a plane right now with my husband. He cashed in some emergency vacation time and is taking the kids to the farm to play catch up with their cousins and run and stay up too late and have fun because this was not a good kid-vironment. And Trey is disappointed and bitter only because I came back to him with a hole where my heart used to be and I couldn't meet his gaze. I truly believe now that he hoped I would come back wanting him and I tried. The routine felt good but we fought under our breath for more than half a day and I relented on the trip because I'm not fit to parent anyone right at this moment. Trey told me to go be happy. Then I promptly had the biggest panic attack ever. Why?

Because I felt like an addict. I needed a drug and the drug is Jacob and it took what felt like hours to get through to him at his office to talk to him. I'm relieved that the kids are in a happier spot and Trey can have the support of his family right now and they don't have to deal with me. I couldn't do it. I couldn't go back to real life. It was tense and miserable and I was miserable and I set the mood for everyone and sometimes that is a tall order.

So I ran out on it.

I can't wait to see the good-mommy emails. Or the WTF are you doing now? emails. Because there's so much here. There's a long long history and more than one great love. Geez, that's why it's hard. Trey and I have ironed out most of the creases (well except this GIANT one down the middle of my life). We have slow-danced through the kitchen and had food fights and drawn on each other with markers and fought and cried too. I can't say it enough when I say he's not the bad guy. He doesn't hold any less of a place in my heart and yet I'm so used to him. Not in a taken-for-granted way but I can come up for air with him. There's a release every now and then. I didn't think to consider that he wanted all of me back. He didn't think about it either and it's not so smooth. Stupidly I thought I could handle everything. I am the luckiest girl in the whole world to have had two soul mates to love all at once and it seems like it shouldn't be so hard but it was.

They will be back in 10 days and oh my god I feel like my arms have been ripped off. I have never been away from the kids ever. It's a relief that they don't have to see me so upset because I don't want them to see that. I don't want to see it.

But the best news?

Jacob has withdrawn his transfer. He's right now working with his committee to have coverage so he can take a sabbatical, which is a 6 month renewal break that a minister can take after 5 years of service. The timing was perfect, they had yet to vote on his replacement for SA. Now they can vote on the minister who will cover his leave instead. They just want him to get through his hard time and come back to them whole. Much like I want to be again.

Is this fate or what? I see it so clearly today.

Trey asked me if I would contact the lawyer this week and begin whatever procedure we have to go through for an amicable divorce. He wants weekend custody which works for him and me too. Day to day life with Jacob and the kids won't be difficult. The euphoria of being alone with him isn't clouded by daily routines, chores and the kids needing 150% all the time-he is used to that, he's been here doing that with us. He's fixed things and had too many dinners to count and been a male influence when Trey has been a workaholic. He loves my children. They love him. It works, gloriously enough and I am thankful for that because the kids have to come first. Please, I have heard the collective commune remarks already. And yes, Love is what it's all about. All the way around.

I can see for miles from way up here. The best part was when Jacob returned my call and I told him I couldn't live without him I could hear him smiling. You know when you're talking to someone on the phone and their words sound different because their head is splitting in half from smiling? Yeah, like that. When he came home the smile was still there. I'm watching him sleep right now from across the room and I swear it's still there.

It's weird because 24 hours ago my head felt like concrete and everything hurt so bad I was seriously considering doing something harmful to myself. Honestly I was because I didn't want to live without Jake. He's going to be horrified when he reads that but he can read this part after it and know it's okay. God answered me. Finally he answered me. He helped hold me up while I made the choice. The right one, that is.

I am okay. Just unbelieveably exhausted. But loved. So loved by Jacob. And I love him too.

Tuesday, 2 May 2006

Life very quietly.

Welcome back.

I took two whole days off from life. And it took me two days to think about what has happened in the past four.

Trey took over house duties and worked from home and Jacob took me away for two nights, up to a tiny cottage on a lake with so much privacy he was the only person I saw for 48 hours.

I'm sure behind my back they called it Operation Mental Institution since my Friday night breakdown was so gloriously relayed. That doesn't happen. I don't lose it like that.

I am calling it the last days on earth.

I very shakily started my weekend. When Jacob got ready to leave around lunchtime on Saturday I almost fell apart again. I couldn't keep doing what we were doing. I'm having a hard time keeping it together all day long for the kids and then dealing with the emotional rollercoasters all night.

So Jacob made some phonecalls, he helped me pack a bag, and we stopped at his house and he packed up some clothes and food and then we drove for a couple of hours up to the lake. It's still so cold at night so it was very quiet up there. He made a fire in the woodstove and then made me eat a sandwich and then we cuddled up in the big easy chair with a blanket and didn't move for almost 15 hours. I slept most of it. He thought a lot, prayed a lot and kept me safe. Safe from my own thoughts even.

Sunday I felt like a human being. We took a long walk in the woods, we sat on the front steps and drank tea and we talked. We both cried. He's leaving. He's leaving because I won't ask him to stay because he won't ask me to go. He held me so tight for so long. I don't want him to ever go anywhere but I will never say that to his face. God comes first for him and I can't/won't break that bond. He tried to break it and it held and he's relieved and remorseful and yet he and I both got to experience something we'll never ever forget or get over. All of each other.

And you know something? We both know that he'll be back someday soon. Maybe in a year, maybe two, maybe less. And when I see him again with my own eyes on my front porch I'm probably going to go through this all over again. The rollercoaster, the needs that well up out of nowhere. The needs I have fulfilled anyway, but for some reason being with Jacob everything is magnified by a thousand times and yet I still can't look him in the eye and tell him I need him to be here for me. That would be selfish. I threw everything away for him and I'm going to let go anyway and then I will land in the safety net and climb out and walk away. The high-wire act is finished for now.

I have been selfish enough.

And he's still cracking jokes. He said his muscles weren't big enough. He said if I bite my lip once at the airport he's not getting on the plane. He said I make him want to be stronger. Okay that wasn't a joke. He was twirling my necklace around my neck in circles as we lay in bed one night and he looked at me and he said that and kicked what was left of my heart into tiny fragments. Without trying he fixes everything only to wreck it all again. Day after day.

And then he brought me home. Home to Trey, who isn't leaving again. They shook hands. Jacob told him to look after me. That was all I heard. I walked straight through the house and out the back door and I didn't stop walking until I hit the back fence and then I sat down in the wet grass and closed my eyes and I prayed. You should know I don't even pray that much, and I'm probably not as eloquent or riveting as Jacob is when he prays. And I probably didn't even do it right because I'm pretty sure praying for him to stay without having to ask him isn't something God can really help with but I gave it my best shot.

I won't see him again before he goes. I won't be taking him to the airport. His house is for sale.

We used to joke about being so destructive together. That we would devour each other and then there would be nothing left to continue on. That we would breathe each other's air and die from lack of oxygen and that the whole thing would burn so blisteringly it would explode. That we weren't even remotely prepared for the type of infatuation we held for each other.

We were right.

When I think about places he touched me on Sunday and the way he makes love to me I forget my own name. When he tells me he loves me I can't speak. The intensity of Jacob I can't put in a box for safekeeping. He's my free bird. He traced my bottom lip with his thumb and he whispered that we would be alright but it wasn't our time. That is the picture I keep playing in my head.

Tomorrow maybe I'll have the courage to write about life after Jacob. Life without Jacob. Life like it used to be. Life strangely comforting. The only thing different is me.