The devil's in your headI told Lochlan that Jake was dead and then I reached over and grabbed the forty, tearing open the tin cap with wet hands, cutting my finger, telling him he could either help me or go get someone who would. He swore and took the bottle from me, winding up and throwing it overhand right off the cliff with his good arm. Next spring I'll have some lovely pale blue seaglass to collect at low tide. We've thrown a few glass things off the cliff as an experiment to see what comes back when. So far nothing.
Filling in the stance
God is playing dead
So save your breath
Take me all the way to the end
Show me how you want it to end
Keep dancing with the dead
Go ahead
Keep dancing with the dead
I am less than impressed and I swear right back and he laughs and throws up his hands.
Bridget, if I let you drink yourself into a corner then I'm not doing enough. If I stop you I'm parental. I don't know what the fuck you want from me anymore but I know I'm not going to take my cue from Ben and go disappear into a fucking job or whatever but I'll be around. I'm just not so good at soothing you.
But you are!
No, I WAS. I used to be. And then I could hardly touch you and everything hurt so bad and it still hurts. Every fucking time it hurts like I've burned myself but I'll be damned if I'm going to let them gain ground anymore just because I'm afraid because it seems like that's our only roadblock.
What are you afraid of?
You. Jesus. You. Your feelings are so big. I don't even know how they stuffed it all inside, you must be bursting. Half the time when I hug you hard I fear you might explode and I'll be left with pink feathers.
What a visual.
Tell me about it. Now, the rain is getting worse so we're going to go inside and dry off and I'll make you a proper drink if you still need one but I don't think you do. I think you know what is right and wrong and maybe it's a relief to let go of Jake just a little more because it's safe to do so.
Maybe.
Maybe's enough, Peanut.