Thursday, 12 December 2013

Well. This was a day.

Oh my fuck. He put on Journey this morning and I realized that's how he works the...the...time machine.


I spent the next few hours in the delirious fever of Lochlan's arms, hanging by a breath somewhere secret between the past and the future and it left a smile that can't be chipped off the same way my brand-new green glitter nail polish is. 

He left with a huge grin, off to a meeting with Batman. He said I've almost got you back. Almost. I didn't confirm or deny. I just left it there. Something good in a world that sometimes seems so black and hopeless and painful. Neither one of us want to say anything to break the spell but the spellbreaker is there, all six feet-four-inches of him, on both our minds morning, noon and night. 

And they are waiting for me to break the spell instead and I suddenly can't find my courage because I'm buried in blankets, music and wrapping paper so I leave it for the moment. I can stall forever. No one else needs to be hurt but this is a long-drawn out agony instead of a bandaid. We need to get on with things. We need to do it soon. 


Caleb isn't buying it. I smile my way over across the driveway all wiggly like jello, a secret set within, chilled to hollow translucent green perfection. He looks in my eyes and tells me I look like I've been fucked by someone with no finesse whatsoever. 

Crass bastard this morning, aren't you. Monitor keeping you awake?

No, loneliness is. 

And you think the way to fix that is to make me angry? Because if so then he's not the one without finesse. And I'll have you know, he's a goddamned dream. He's perfect and you're jealous because you enabled the inevitable and now you're kicking yourself because it could have all been so different.

Bridget, he's a phase you go through on a regular basis. 

He's not but maybe you are, 

Good, you know, I was really hoping we could get into it while I still have this thing on so you can see the distress this causes me. 

Maybe I should leave. 

And go back over to the perpetual teenage boy? No, stay here. Let me make you some breakfast. You need to eat. You get smaller every day. 

That's because Henry's getting bigger. The frame of reference is reversed now. (Henry, whose feet grew four sizes in three months.). I'm the same. 

The same as when you were twelve. 

I have to go. He doesn't want me here. 

Tell him he can't interfere with our coparenting arrangement or I'll have to tell him myself. 

That's the only reason I'm here. 

Caleb holds out a cheque for the new winter boots I bought Henry yesterday and I mouth thank you as I take it and head back outside. Caleb sticks his head out the door and says I need you to come back later so we can hear the results of Henry's school program okay?

Fuck my life. 

Pardon me?

Fine, I said fine. 

No you did not, Bridget and if Pyro makes you this flippant he's going to have to answer to me. 

I turn around at the threat. He is standing at the top, I'm at the bottom of the steps. 

No, he does not. You leave him alone. 

Oh, but I can't. 

I march back up the steps and get right up in his face. You know what? YOU LEAVE LOCHLAN ALONE. HE'S NEVER DONE A THING TO YOU. FUCKING LEAVE HIM ALONE! 

I turn to walk away and I fall, because everything is covered with ice here and I forget. I always forget.


The cast will be on for up to six weeks. The orthopedist asked me if I had any other questions after he was finished and I blurted out Can I still write? I mean, can I type? 

If you feel up to it, he said. In a few days, possibly a week. Here is a prescription for the pain. I didn't get it filled. I'll deal with it. I'll just bite down on something. I would rather feel everything now than not feel anything at all.

I know. That makes me different from just about everyone on earth.