DON'T READ IT.
I just need headphones and my bed, my green blanket that's warm and covers me perfectly and this rain. How fast can I type? How much should I share?
I got a pass on church podcast, breakfast, probably lunch and talking at all. Sam's been up to see if I want to talk, Lochlan got any words I did have. Ruth got a hug, and Henry too but they have plans and won't be home until late. Ben understands and didn't need words, Lochlan filled him in before he flipped the switch from thinking everything was fine to knowing it's not, and Caleb wondered if we should just cover in the holes and build over them, since we see where they are.
Duncan blames himself, but he did everything right. I don't sleep enough and it sometimes means my guard is down and it triggers a hole that just opens up right in front of me and I step into it without hesitation (which means Caleb is wrong).
And Jacob waits.
Cole laughs at him.
Caleb wishes he could revise this but I feel like myself today. Barely a white-knuckle grip on anything, slipping through the hours like a petal on the wind. Paper-thin and fragile, feelings like nerves stretching out, growing around everything, choking off life, blocking out the sun, fending off the rain, keeping the ghosts just out of reach. I guess it's better than letting them in but it feels like I am behind glass. What if it gets more frightening and Lochlan can't hear me from back here? What if I can never sleep again? What if Jesus has finally given up and Lochlan is right as he has been every single time thus far and what if this never changes? What if every goddamn feeling is here on my sleeve, burning my fingertips, causing the noise in my brain to reach a fever-pitch, crackly-static, roaring to the point where I might just throw myself off into the sea where it's quiet and still.
Is this what Jacob felt like?
Is this all there is? Is this what it means to become so overwhelmed that you can't speak in case you scream, to try and fade into the quilts so you somehow ride out a ride you don't even qualify for. You're too short, too small, not strong enough but then they shove you into it anyway, laughing, fastening the buckle all the while grinning at you blackly, and they tell you to have a good time.
Why doesn't anyone else feel this way?
We do, sometimes, but we try to be strong for you. Lochlan assures me none of it's real, maybe it's not good but it will be okay.
How do you know?
It has to be, Peanut. You just need sleep.
I didn't tell him I'm afraid to fall asleep to the sound of Cole's laughter but I don't think he can fix that. I wish someone would.