Bring me home in a blinding dreamIt's a sort of fragility you can only see if you have it too. A sad secret society. An unwanted pass into a club you didn't want any part of and it sucks. I can see it. I don't want to see it. I can predict it and I hate that.
Through the secrets that I have seen
Wash the sorrow from off my skin
And show me how to be whole again
It sucks.
I've got both arms around Ben and I don't want to let go. He has to go, though. He's got a meeting and then a brunch and then a different sort of meeting and then a conference call and then facetime and then maybe, if he ever finishes his day he'll come back and fall asleep with me but for the next fifteen or eighteen hours I won't see him and today that's an emergency.
Postpone it.
What?
All of it. I wave my hand dismissively. Do it next week.
He turns and sits in front of me. That's the thing, Bumblebee. Life keeps going. Just with different faces, different plans. It never stops. You know this.
And I hate it.
I know but it's still going. It doesn't care how you feel about it.
How do I make it stop?
It's better if you don't.
I can't breathe.
Yes you can. There are books, there's running, there are hugs, there are talks, there is so much to help with the hard parts.
I put my head down between my knees and scream.
His eyes water. Don't make me doubt myself, Bridge. There's been enough of that lately. Come with me.
I'm not fit-
I don't care. Come along and listen to music in the truck. Bring your sketchbook. Take a video of your day and put it up so people can see that you're safe. So you can see you're alive.
I don't answer him. I keep flexing my fingers into fists so I don't cry. It's not working it's not working it's not working. FUCK.
Are you coming with me? I really need you with me.
I am.
Good, I could use your face in my day. I don't know the others. I feel like screaming too.