Lochlan's only consolation was that Caleb was kind. It brings a strange sort of relief to him when he expects the worst. He was further heartened that Caleb couldn't calm me down, that he doesn't have the range of soothing mechanisms that Lochlan has always had from the first moment, those nurturing, comforting capacities he's only ever denied me once.
Once.
Once is the hard part. The part that keeps him at almost-arms length. The part that makes it so easy to keep Caleb here close enough to touch as some sort of permanent punishment. That one moment when Lochlan faltered just enough and I saw that he was human and fallible and a goddamned teenage boy and maybe he and Caleb weren't all that different after all and how everything was still wrong even if we were in love because I wasn't old enough to self-validate my feelings, and yet my feelings didn't count because I was still a child.
I don't know if I'll ever forgive anyone for that. They're selective. The good feelings are acceptable, encouraged and noticed. The bad ones are wrong, shove them under the rug, don't let them see the light of day, bury this shit like we should have buried her and then we wouldn't have to live like this, under the risk of not knowing when she would tell, who she would tell, when she might implode.
Instead she reminds them daily that feelings are feelings and you don't get to choose which ones are the ones you will nurture. Instead she teaches them that people are stronger than they sometimes look. Instead she finds a way to live around it, through it and without it too and it seems to be working mostly fine, though the experts (both in-house and out) tell you it's so unhealthy it might be a first and what the fuck, Bridget, eventually it's going to implode. Either they are, you are or all of this will.
If you live on borrowed time, do it well, because you'll never be able to afford to pay it back, let alone with interest.
I want to go clam-digging, I announce abruptly and Lochlan's all well and good to take me until he pauses.
Do they have clams here?
I have no idea.
Look it up.
Yes. Plus oysters and cockles.
I've never seen cockles here.
Just outside Nanaimo.
You want to do this today?
Maybe. I don't know.
I need a new video card and Ruth has to get her school supplies for second semester. Then at four Christian wants me to pick him up while his truck's getting serviced. Uh. Can we go tomorrow?
No, I missed church last week.
I don't think Sam cares, Bridge.
I don't go for him.
I don't think Jake cares either.
Wow.
Well, wow, you want to drive for half a day to dig clams?
I want to leave here.
Elaborate.
It's cabin fever, that's all. I hate January.
I thought Ben fixed January.
He only showed up for a bit and he's already gone again.
Lochlan stops what he's doing and comes over to me, pulling my hands in against his chest, kissing my forehead, my nose, my mouth.
I'm here. You don't have to run.
Everyone's crushing me with their sweetness. I'm fine. I don't need to be coddled.
Really?
Seriously.
Then we're not going to the island this weekend.
Lochlan!
You said you didn't need to be coddled!
Clam-digging isn't coddling!
It is in fucking JANUARY, Bridge!
Once.
Once is the hard part. The part that keeps him at almost-arms length. The part that makes it so easy to keep Caleb here close enough to touch as some sort of permanent punishment. That one moment when Lochlan faltered just enough and I saw that he was human and fallible and a goddamned teenage boy and maybe he and Caleb weren't all that different after all and how everything was still wrong even if we were in love because I wasn't old enough to self-validate my feelings, and yet my feelings didn't count because I was still a child.
I don't know if I'll ever forgive anyone for that. They're selective. The good feelings are acceptable, encouraged and noticed. The bad ones are wrong, shove them under the rug, don't let them see the light of day, bury this shit like we should have buried her and then we wouldn't have to live like this, under the risk of not knowing when she would tell, who she would tell, when she might implode.
Instead she reminds them daily that feelings are feelings and you don't get to choose which ones are the ones you will nurture. Instead she teaches them that people are stronger than they sometimes look. Instead she finds a way to live around it, through it and without it too and it seems to be working mostly fine, though the experts (both in-house and out) tell you it's so unhealthy it might be a first and what the fuck, Bridget, eventually it's going to implode. Either they are, you are or all of this will.
If you live on borrowed time, do it well, because you'll never be able to afford to pay it back, let alone with interest.
I want to go clam-digging, I announce abruptly and Lochlan's all well and good to take me until he pauses.
Do they have clams here?
I have no idea.
Look it up.
Yes. Plus oysters and cockles.
I've never seen cockles here.
Just outside Nanaimo.
You want to do this today?
Maybe. I don't know.
I need a new video card and Ruth has to get her school supplies for second semester. Then at four Christian wants me to pick him up while his truck's getting serviced. Uh. Can we go tomorrow?
No, I missed church last week.
I don't think Sam cares, Bridge.
I don't go for him.
I don't think Jake cares either.
Wow.
Well, wow, you want to drive for half a day to dig clams?
I want to leave here.
Elaborate.
It's cabin fever, that's all. I hate January.
I thought Ben fixed January.
He only showed up for a bit and he's already gone again.
Lochlan stops what he's doing and comes over to me, pulling my hands in against his chest, kissing my forehead, my nose, my mouth.
I'm here. You don't have to run.
Everyone's crushing me with their sweetness. I'm fine. I don't need to be coddled.
Really?
Seriously.
Then we're not going to the island this weekend.
Lochlan!
You said you didn't need to be coddled!
Clam-digging isn't coddling!
It is in fucking JANUARY, Bridge!