For every dream that is left behind me
I take a bow
With every war that will rage inside me
I hear the sound
Of another day in this vanishing life
Returned to dust
And every chance I've pushed away
Into the night
Time won't let go
It's got you in debt now
And it's got me crawling all the way back to the start
I swear that I saw you there
Your hands were reaching out for mine
Milestones this morning as Ben easily navigates the steps to the beach. In the dark, in the rain. Doesn't hesitate for a second, though I was on the outside clutching the rail along with his hand and John was directly in front of us, braced on both rails with both hands because he can reach. My job was to warn him in case Ben tipped forward, so he would have the seconds needed to plant his legs and take Ben's weight, keeping him from breaking his neck falling down the steps. We've put in stop gates on every landing. They are still way too far apart for my comfort.
He was fine. He would have been fine, and so John headed back up once we were at the bottom, giving us a little privacy for our sunrise walk, which consists of me obsessively checking the tide lines for glass and Ben zoning out completely in silence. He's already been to a meeting. I guess he's all talked out.
It's as if he isn't even there and I am alone and for his presence marking a necessary moment in my life he is as much of a ghost as anyone. I give up and put my headphones in. He won't talk, he's fallen back into his previous ways though I had really hoped that the hard knock that grew his brain just enough to snap him out of those ways would be a permanent difference, keeping him close, keeping him here with me, instead of always on a completely different wavelength. And for a while I got my wish, as is the way it always goes. Just enough contentment and blissful euphoria to make me let my guard down before everything goes wrong. That's how it works. That's fate or karma or bad luck or just me. I don't know.
I turn suddenly, take out the headphones, the soaring chorus of the song still ringing through my skull and I find Ben, kicking driftwood into a pile, deep in thought.
Hey.
His eyebrows go up but he doesn't stop or look at me.
HEY FUCKER.
Now he stops. God, we have a strange relationship.
Can we do something?
Anything you want. Of course. Give her the fucking moon. Never consider it might not be yours to give. Or that it might not be enough. She'd rather have your soul, kept in a tiny box in her hands just for her and she'll never let it go because she's afraid to be without you.
Can we..go back to bed? Sleep for a couple more hours?
Sure, but you don't sleep in daylight.
I could try.
He stares at me curiously. I'm being a ghost again.
Yeah.
I'm sorry, Bridge. I'm working hard at just being normal here.
I know what he means and it isn't what I would mean.
Can I help?
You do, you just don't seem to realize how much.
It's not often he admits anything like this and I'm in tears.
Ah Jesus, don't cry.
This is rough.
Yeah. But we'll be okay. He hands me his chip and we head for the steps. 1 month recovery, it says. To thine own self be true.