Tuesday, 25 September 2012

Relief, in Ben-form. Wiseass.

Down through my lashes today, down down down to the bottom of the sea where the plaques bolt into the rocks and the waves pound the letters away slowly.

I'm still not allowed here on the edge by myself but I'm not by myself today. Ben is here with his smile turned upside-down, raw silence on the stereo and his hands in his pockets instead of at-the-ready.

Luckily I am tired and worn to smithereens, mentally empty and not a flight risk today.

So Caleb broke your soul, Cole, your body, Loch broke your heart and Jake your head. What's left for me to have a go at? He says it softly but we haven't looked at each other in a while. I can hardly hear him.

My future. I turn and gaze at him, my back to the ledge.

He looks up. We're already driving that into the ground here, little bee.

I nod and swing my arms out wide and my whole body pivots and corrects.

Come away from there, Jesus, please. He reaches out and takes my arm, pulling me in closer, away from the bluff, out of the wind that threatens to smash me on the bronze markers. He keeps talking.

What if maybe they only temporarily wounded those parts of you? Since physically you're okay right now, except for this stupid cold. And your heart is still beating, not broken completely. You're here on earth so your soul is intact. And your head is sort-of okay. Well, maybe not okay but some days are good. I don't think your mind is broken or you'd be in the corner drooling and staring at the static on a TV screen.

So everything's fine then. Perfect, I'm still breathing, I can function moderately well and I hate white noise so tell me, Ben, what the fuck does all this MEAN, then?

It means you're...He is trying to stifle a laugh and I"m going to smack him. It means you're emo.

Wow. Yup. That's it. I'm emo. I was waiting for someone to clue in.

Sorry, I'm a bit slow. He taps his head.

Yup. You took forever, for crying out loud. I roll my eyes and climb down off the rock wall, headed toward the house.

Jesus, Bridget, I was only kidding. You smiled! You thought it was funny!

My broken heart is not funny!


Fine, wounded. Lying on the battlefield, bleeding out. Great, my death is now fucking Groundhog Day to be repeated every twenty-four hours.

So should I wait until you actually die today before we....


Only for me. You won't even know what's happening. You'll be dead.

I think that's illegal.

Only if I'm caught.