Thursday 8 December 2016

Hysterical deafness.

(This is probably disjointed. I have a stabbing headache from the cold.)

Lochlan is patient, accommodating and open. I wanted to go for a walk on the beach today before it gets covered with snow and I'm no longer allowed. The rocks get so slippery and you have to balance on them to get to the sand. Ironic since I used to walk the high-wire for a living. Ironic because when I was little he used to demand that I grow up and once I did that he regretted it profoundly and has wished ever since to send me back to childhood. But I got my walk and a long talk with him with no shouting or bickering, for once.

He's also talking to Sam because he thought maybe Sam was steering me straight into Caleb's arms but Sam is actually trying to teach me how to navigate by myself without plans or input from anyone. Besides, Sam and Caleb, as the living angel and the fallen angel in this story, don't exactly get along. Lochlan has some deep seated awful guilt that he carries with him as a huge chip on his shoulder and all of this has to be shifted or remolded into something we can all live with and something we can use productively, because we all have to live together. 

Or rather, we want to live together. All of us. But Caleb sometimes makes that very hard. 

One of the things Lochlan promises is that in the spring we'll cut a proper walking path to the beach so I can come down here on my own (never mind the steps I'm forbidden to use. Maybe he's putting in a giant escalator because we all know how much I love THOSE) which would be nice. 

In the meantime, he tells me to enjoy the view because we won't come back down until it warms up, that it's fucking cold and if I want to look at the waves I can use the binoculars and look out the window. 

(That wasn't a bicker, technically because I failed to reply, instead soaking up the sun and the salt as much as I can before we retreat indoors for we have become lightweights.)

Sam stopped short of telling me I should go to the beach alone if I want to after weighing the risks and benefits. Not as impartial as I thought. Caleb called and said if I wanted to go he can take me, not to worry. He works hard at finding their weak spots and punching right through, which I can appreciate but I see how it fractures the Collective as a whole. Maybe I always did but I chose to be blind. 

I hope he can unlock my hearing next. Maybe I just refuse to listen. Maybe it's a defense mechanism so I no longer have to hear the awful things I was told as a child, awful things that were done that left me at that age forever. As Sam likes to remind me, I have the grief under control lately. It's everything else I can't manage now but that doesn't mean I won't be able to in the future.