Friday 26 October 2007

There's a key under the ivy pot.

When I woke up this morning Ben was lying on my bed, fully clothed, watching me sleep.

I started to tell him to leave, that I didn't need him being here and instead I started sobbing. He pulled me into his arms and just hung on, so I wouldn't blow away in the storm I was making. So that I wouldn't slip any deeper into my rabbit hole. So that I wouldn't have to be in the dark alone.

He said nothing. He didn't point out he knew how this would unfold. He didn't tell me that I was better off, he just told me he was here for the day.

He waited me out until I decided I was done crying and then I apologized and he cut me off, telling me to get my morning stuff done, he'd go down and make some coffee. I got the kids up and off to school and when I came home he had made potato omelets for us for breakfast.

I pointed out I am poor company right now and Ben told me that wasn't important, that I've always been vaguely shitty company but since he is not complaining I should shut the fuck up and drink my coffee and then we'll go car shopping.

Because I don't have a car.