I've lived a strange existence. You would see the sharp contrasts within moments. I am rather proper, a little uptight even, reigned in and expectant that manners and morals (snort) and respect for one another take priority over how one feels. Part of it is a throwback to growing up knowing what was expected, a bourgeoisie/gypsy balanced existence in which you tempered your whims to suit society. So I could maintain my benign monarchist, logical wife and mother persona and then only relax among friends, still demanding that level of respect be present but not, a more freewheeling way to let my hair down, to uncoil my strung-up nerves and embrace my enthusiasm for making mistakes.
I'll be the first one to go, I've made so many. Let me just walk the plank and when I get to the end you can give me a hard push and blow me a kiss goodbye.
Loch is coming out for the weekend. Under the guise of seeing the children and catching up, but really because he and Jacob have been at odds for too long now and we promised, all of us, that this would not destroy any more friendships. This being my supreme unraveling, and all that has passed in the last year.
And honestly I told him I wish he would stay away. Curse these single guys with disposable incomes who can spend thousands of dollars on last-minute flights in order to conduct arguments in person.
But don't curse Loch because he has been there through twenty-five years (or more) of me. Uptight and not uptight at all.
Damn, he should get a medal.
