Thursday, 14 February 2008

It can just be Thursday for me.

Valentine's Day is for children.

The kids went off excited, balancing envelopes stuffed with paper valentines for their classmates and wrapped plates of brownies for their afternoon parties. They both wore red and said the day was about love.

Ironically it should be, shouldn't it? While every day should be a vested interest in celebrating your love for someone, it is nice to have a day dedicated to it entirely.

It would be so much nicer if people embraced that instead of choosing this day to make a huge mistake. But it's okay, I spent the first part of this day blocking all kinds of numbers, including very familiar ones known by heart because I'm not interested in half-assed efforts, I need to make my own efforts with everything I've got.

I'm not interested in trophies and markers and being used.

I'm not interested in being used, I said. I'm not your curiosity or your conquest. Maybe that's why today's Valentine will be one that is completely different. Maybe because I had no sleep after five fucked up phone calls in the middle of the night and then however many I didn't get because I started blocking numbers, if any were even made at all after that. I doubt it.

Inside the tiny box sitting on my kitchen table was a red medallion with "5 Months" written on it.

Ben's anniversary milestone from Alcoholics Anonymous, small but significant because he repeatedly fell off and was run over by the wagon.

He gave it to me. I'll give it back to him but just the simple fact that he was acknowledging it in my presence is very important to me. It isn't something we've really talked about much. He was messed up. He drank a lot, he took a lot of drugs. He was losing it.

The biggest motivator for him getting help was the night he attacked me (I'm not linking, it's there) and finally understood what sort of dangerous drunk he was. It took him the rest of the summer to figure out for himself that even one drink put him back on that path to destruction and he was incredibly proactive with his sobriety, a difficult road to hold in his field, with these friends.

He takes a mild antidepressant even. He was scared to death of the hit being sober would land on his lucid liquid creativity. He has few outlets other than talk and distractions to deal with his fears but he was doing it anyway.

Five months was huge. This is a guy that couldn't skip a day at one point and I was scared for him, as much as I was scared of him at one point. Both of those feelings are gone, thankfully, as he was doing really well and I had hoped he would continue to do so.

Except thanks to last night I don't think it's even valid any more. You see, Ben is different from everyone and so much like Cole in one regard. If you put something in front of his face he picks it up. He has no ability to walk away. He has no self-restraint. One of his people called early last night to give me a hard time, telling me his head wasn't where it needed to be, that he wasn't going to be popping in and out of town this time, that he needed to stay focused and be present. That I wasn't good for him.

Four hours later some completely wasted girl called me to tell me she was going through his phone and calling every girl's name to let them know he was now off the market, because they were hooking up and she was going to do whatever she had to do to keep him so back off bitch.

Yes. Happy Valentine's Day to you too, motherfucker.

And now you know why I won't marry the guy. He couldn't be serious if he tried. But no worries. I'm okay. I expected that. It's actually happened before but it was funnier the last time because I didn't love him like this that. This time it just stung so badly my only recourse is to block the damned number and distract myself. Thankfully I am able to do both and my dance card is full. I asked Joel if he still wanted to have dinner after all (crow, maybe) and I made a lunch date with Nolan and PJ will be here tonight to hang out and do babysitting duty so we'll have a little time together and I'll just push everything else out of my head.

I replaced the medal in the box along with his beautiful ring. And to those who called earlier who didn't hear about this it was because I was embarrassed so just do me a favor and just don't try to fix it. Don't call him, don't put a price on his head and don't mention it to me. I'm begging you.

I'll be fine, really, I will. I walked into this with my eyes wide open, knowing who I was falling for and the risk involved and so that helps. A little, anyway.

The fucking vultures will love this, I'm sure. Don't email me with your glee. Not today. Today I'm going to go have fun with my brownies and paper valentines strung on a line to remind me that we're children too.