We've gone over Lochlan's Christmas list for what he would like to see me fix and as it turns out the only really significant things are less love for the Devil and less pedestrian, every-day ghost sightings.
Those are the only times he worries that I might have truly lost it, when he remembers that I am still indulging in a fucked-up romantic and sexual relationship with the person who abused me throughout my childhood (and beyond) and I talk to Jacob like he's still here (because he is) and let's face it, even that one makes me worry just a little bit, as I always feel like I'm one short conversation with him away from returning to that stupid place where I sat in a room that contained nothing I could use to end my days and spoke very little until I realized if I talked maybe they'd let me come home and so I did and here I am. Also a huge memory is that the sheets were so rough they gave me hives and no one seemed interested in my sensitive skin issues at all. I recall being the source of amusement when I asked for organic sheets and sensitive skin bandaids but when the hives came they just added benadryl to my cocktail of drugs and then I talked even less because all I wanted to do was sleep and-
*deep breath*
Why the FUCK am I telling you this? It's just a memory, just a thought. I can put the ghost away but he is stubborn and stuck, just like the rest of us.
Joel wants me to address other things, and not with him. He is subjective. I don't listen to him. But he has connections.
So do I, says the Devil, as he lifts my dress over my head. He plays his own advocate for brownie points here in the dark. Lochlan just wants you to be strong, he reminds me. These are things I know.
I'm not fixing it if it ain't broken, I whisper into his mouth.
I think he'd like things to be less intense with everyone else and more intense with him-
If we get any more intense we'll just burst into flames-
He wants the kind of love you had with Jake. The usage of past tense makes me cold.
We DO-
No, you don't. He's worked his whole life for this and you didn't mourn him as he left you, you simply moved on.
He's alive, Diabhal. Jake isn't coming back. If he had just left it would have been the same. I would have been happy for his happiness. He had moved on and I would as well. And that's what Lochlan and I did.
Then how does having Dalton, Duncan and PJ in your bed make you feel better?
That was Lochlan's idea- (Caleb forgot Ben, Sam and August, which I found so interesting but also none of your you-know-what).
Grand gestures to keep you happy, Neamhchiontach. Like roomfuls of roses or hot air balloons-
DON'T.
See what I mean? His hand is warm against my back but I am stiff and cold now. The moment has passed and it's not going to come back around. The love isn't the same incredible crushing romance you and Jacob shared. This is more like routine-
That isn't fair. Lochlan is the one constant of my entire life. I would die for him.
Maybe he needs to know that. Then as an aside, please tell him it was my idea and perhaps he'll resent me less. If the worst thing I represent in your life is a clean, safe, financially sound way to indulge your issues then he should be grateful.
Since when are you safe? I smile at him in the dark, into his soul, through his lips, apart only a little. I love these conversations with him when we are nose to nose.
He returns my smile, eyes flashing dark blue. As long as you keep a little of that stubborn, twisted streak for me, Bridget, I'll be whatever you want.
Those are the only times he worries that I might have truly lost it, when he remembers that I am still indulging in a fucked-up romantic and sexual relationship with the person who abused me throughout my childhood (and beyond) and I talk to Jacob like he's still here (because he is) and let's face it, even that one makes me worry just a little bit, as I always feel like I'm one short conversation with him away from returning to that stupid place where I sat in a room that contained nothing I could use to end my days and spoke very little until I realized if I talked maybe they'd let me come home and so I did and here I am. Also a huge memory is that the sheets were so rough they gave me hives and no one seemed interested in my sensitive skin issues at all. I recall being the source of amusement when I asked for organic sheets and sensitive skin bandaids but when the hives came they just added benadryl to my cocktail of drugs and then I talked even less because all I wanted to do was sleep and-
*deep breath*
Why the FUCK am I telling you this? It's just a memory, just a thought. I can put the ghost away but he is stubborn and stuck, just like the rest of us.
Joel wants me to address other things, and not with him. He is subjective. I don't listen to him. But he has connections.
So do I, says the Devil, as he lifts my dress over my head. He plays his own advocate for brownie points here in the dark. Lochlan just wants you to be strong, he reminds me. These are things I know.
I'm not fixing it if it ain't broken, I whisper into his mouth.
I think he'd like things to be less intense with everyone else and more intense with him-
If we get any more intense we'll just burst into flames-
He wants the kind of love you had with Jake. The usage of past tense makes me cold.
We DO-
No, you don't. He's worked his whole life for this and you didn't mourn him as he left you, you simply moved on.
He's alive, Diabhal. Jake isn't coming back. If he had just left it would have been the same. I would have been happy for his happiness. He had moved on and I would as well. And that's what Lochlan and I did.
Then how does having Dalton, Duncan and PJ in your bed make you feel better?
That was Lochlan's idea- (Caleb forgot Ben, Sam and August, which I found so interesting but also none of your you-know-what).
Grand gestures to keep you happy, Neamhchiontach. Like roomfuls of roses or hot air balloons-
DON'T.
See what I mean? His hand is warm against my back but I am stiff and cold now. The moment has passed and it's not going to come back around. The love isn't the same incredible crushing romance you and Jacob shared. This is more like routine-
That isn't fair. Lochlan is the one constant of my entire life. I would die for him.
Maybe he needs to know that. Then as an aside, please tell him it was my idea and perhaps he'll resent me less. If the worst thing I represent in your life is a clean, safe, financially sound way to indulge your issues then he should be grateful.
Since when are you safe? I smile at him in the dark, into his soul, through his lips, apart only a little. I love these conversations with him when we are nose to nose.
He returns my smile, eyes flashing dark blue. As long as you keep a little of that stubborn, twisted streak for me, Bridget, I'll be whatever you want.