I finally got to the point in life where I attended a beautiful wedding and didn't raise my glass in toasting the happy couple all while thinking 'Gosh, I hope he doesn't jump off a building some day to get away from your happy life you're pretending to have'.
I call it progress, Joel.
I call it highly morbid. That's disturbing, Bridget.
It's inevitable. It's just residual bitterness. I wasn't wishing them ill or assuming all marriages implode, it was more of a...protection...spell.
A protection spell. Now you're a witch?
Sometimes, yes I am.
This makes more sense than most things, oddly enough. Now tell me about the wedding.
It was lovely. Very smoothly produced, though in my next life I think I'll be a decorator because the weddings I've done are breathtaking, while the ones I attend outside of the Collective seem a little more out of the box.
So you're not still struggling with crippling self-doubt at all.
Oh, I am. Don't get me wrong. But renting stock centerpieces are different. Most decorators are probably too busy to walk a beach for five months collecting a certain shade of driftwood.
Obsessive.
Stop labelling me!
Just trying to get a barometer, here, Bridge-
Then ask for one. Don't take random thoughts from a conversation that's all over the place and try and diagnose me.
He pauses for a moment in one of those Joel-clarity lightbulb moments that illuminates the entire planet. When Joel pulls a mea culpa you'll absolve him just because he does it so adorably. I'm not sure if it's manipulation or self-protection but it works perfectly. You're so right, Bridget. I'm sorry. I just try to get a feel for how you are when I visit in case you need extra support but you have so much in house and I think you're in good hands right now.
I do too.
Then I should probably go.
You could stay for dinner.
I'm sure you have a full table, but thank you.
We always have room for you, Joel.
I didn't bring anything.
You brought you. That's enough of a gift. I don't need presents, I need your presence.
You and your words.
Yup. Do you want to set the table or get the cranberries underway?
I call it progress, Joel.
I call it highly morbid. That's disturbing, Bridget.
It's inevitable. It's just residual bitterness. I wasn't wishing them ill or assuming all marriages implode, it was more of a...protection...spell.
A protection spell. Now you're a witch?
Sometimes, yes I am.
This makes more sense than most things, oddly enough. Now tell me about the wedding.
It was lovely. Very smoothly produced, though in my next life I think I'll be a decorator because the weddings I've done are breathtaking, while the ones I attend outside of the Collective seem a little more out of the box.
So you're not still struggling with crippling self-doubt at all.
Oh, I am. Don't get me wrong. But renting stock centerpieces are different. Most decorators are probably too busy to walk a beach for five months collecting a certain shade of driftwood.
Obsessive.
Stop labelling me!
Just trying to get a barometer, here, Bridge-
Then ask for one. Don't take random thoughts from a conversation that's all over the place and try and diagnose me.
He pauses for a moment in one of those Joel-clarity lightbulb moments that illuminates the entire planet. When Joel pulls a mea culpa you'll absolve him just because he does it so adorably. I'm not sure if it's manipulation or self-protection but it works perfectly. You're so right, Bridget. I'm sorry. I just try to get a feel for how you are when I visit in case you need extra support but you have so much in house and I think you're in good hands right now.
I do too.
Then I should probably go.
You could stay for dinner.
I'm sure you have a full table, but thank you.
We always have room for you, Joel.
I didn't bring anything.
You brought you. That's enough of a gift. I don't need presents, I need your presence.
You and your words.
Yup. Do you want to set the table or get the cranberries underway?