I'm not giving up. You might.
A trip to the ER yesterday afternoon netted me a handful of painkillers and advice to take it easy. We managed to crack two of my ribs and they never really decided if my liver was bruised or not so they went with a yes, just in case. Fuck.
I'm fine, it just hurts when I try to breathe super deeply or flex my torso at all.
Or move at all but really let's just gloss for Jacob's sake. Mkay?
So hi! Radioactive Vicodin girl makes her unwelcome return to the house.
Which is really great, she's a perfect match for Guilt-Laden Husband Shouldering All The Blame, who isn't welcome. I'll take the blame, hell, I walked into the study knowing exactly how the night was going to go down, and he can't resist me. He thinks he is my guardian angel superman, somehow able to pluck me out of thin air and save me from harm. We have this fight weekly because I still wipe out on the ice and fall down the basement steps just about every second trip.
He sees zero humor in this so I brought him with me to see Claus today because for once I attack a situation as well-adjusted which is always just in time for him to fall apart. Christ, we're a perfect match. Jacob pointed out that support from me is like building a house on broken stilts and hoping for the best. He'd like to keep moping while I bounce off the walls.
I reminded him that if I am glass then he needn't insult me when I try to help and he lost it.
He has this magnificent ability to cut me down and yet he wouldn't let go of my hand. He has barely let go of it since he got home yesterday afternoon, which is fine because my solace comes from him. But I had to ask him to release me so I could go to the bathroom at one point. Sweet and frightening.
Hey, wait, that's my description.
God, we're so fucking well-adjusted. Just when we had begun to finally put fragile miss to rest once and for all. Just as we were beginning to make some progress on our joint obsessive issues with each other. Just as we approached normal. Sexually and otherwise.
It figures.
But this is not going to be a setback. Maybe a very brief delay but that's all I'm going to allow for.
When we were looking at antiques on Monday Jacob held up a horseshoe and we were cracking jokes about wedging it firmly up my ass to see if our luck might change. We got sidetracked and never actually bought it.
I asked him if we could go back and get it and oh, the bitter laugh that came out of him practically curled my hair.
I am glass. Handle with care, angel boy.
