Thursday 16 August 2007

I've gotten good at taking pills and writing distracted and playing the music so loud I miss the lyrics again because it's distorted. I've gotten good at blocking out harmless conversations and grief that goes on far too long and anything remotely uncomfortable. I'll never be good at being alone or dealing with bullshit or making do.

Send me an email. I could use some love. Yes, you.

Sweetness.

A bright spot in the day for this actress. Ruth and Henry are delighted that the boys are going to be here later. Especially at the same time. This was in between Henry telling me all through lunch that he would eat it only if I would let him have two "think noodles" afterward. He meant fig newtons. He can have whatever his little heart desires, he's maybe the only guy I trust anymore. There's a fun cross to bear for a six year old.

Resignation.

Ben and Loch are coming out this weekend for a family meeting. So far it appears that only Ben, Loch and Jacob were recipients of this letter. Surprise. No one else will admit to having one and Ben said that the letter itself spells that out clearly.

I did say bad things happen in threes, right?

Jacob refuses to say a word about it for now.

But now I think I know why Ben left and why Loch has been the way he has and why Jacob is on such a mission to win this imaginary fight.

Because it wasn't imaginary after all.

Oh fuck, scrap that. He just called again and said they'll be here in time for dinner. Tonight.

Wednesday 15 August 2007

Well you bunch of.

I want to call you every name in the book.

I want to throw things and break stuff and scream.

But not until I have a few more facts than a drunken Ben can provide before lunch. Poor Ben, he was doing so well. Was that a lie too? My God, you're the ones who are fucked up.

I want to know who got them and who decided to keep it from me and don't say you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm talking about Cole's goddamned fucking LETTERS.

I think I hate all of you right now. Forever and ever. Prove me wrong, please. I'm begging you to tell me this wasn't orchestrated the way I know it was. Prove that you didn't just fuck up my life even more.

Unexpected.

I'm wearing the t-shirt Christian brought over for me. It didn't fit him and he would be the smallest of the guys so the next logical wearer is me. It's huge and it says Fabbing Fuckulous on it. Jacob laughed and asked if I was planning to wear it in public and I said yes, but only to church and PTA meetings. Of course I was kidding but the look he shot me was worth it.

Ben has not called back. Instead I lunged at the phone at 9 pm and it wasn't what I expected at all.

It was Sophie.

She'll be the only one relatively unscathed by the mess made because she wasn't even engaged when it happened. And it was a fluke that Jacob wound up at the conference, there was a last-minute opening that he was able to grab as a favor repaid. They haven't had contact since, no, I'm not worried that it's going to happen again, from what I know and have seen, while he admires her togetherness as much as he abhors my chaos, she doesn't move him nearly an iota as much. He fell for me hard, he is all mine in a way that has surprised, and continues to surprise everyone.

She called to apologize to me and to wish us a happy belated anniversary and to ask me if I had anything I wanted or needed to say to her. That she didn't want me to hate her. That she was surprised by how not into it Jacob turned out to be and how grief-stricken he was and how she assumed he had admitted his mistakes long ago.

This is how civilized adults mend fences. We're all in our thirties. We should all know better. We keep trying to do better, and that's all we can do.

God, am I this magnanimous?

Not on your fucking life.

She apologized and asked me not to forgive or let her off the hook but just to know she wouldn't hurt me again. Or Jacob. She also had told her fiance before they were engaged. I wasn't kidding when I say she is pulled together and so not that type of person.

I'll never be that self-assured or that pulled together. She is the tight chignon, the business formal and I am the wispy mess, the day at the fair hair, undone and unkempt.

Soft and wild. Sweet and certifiable.

Everyone rushing in to assure their absolution from me is astounding. Since when did the world ever revolve around me? Apparently it always has, and my happiness has come to command a king's ransom. One that was paid for when I asked for it. I took Jacob's heart back because it belongs to me and it stays with me, from here on out.

She said she probably won't call for a long while, maybe at Christmas to wish us well, or not, but that I should know, if I don't or if there's any doubt, just how much Jacob truly loves me, that the time she has spent with him whether before their marriage or after, was filled with my presence and his preoccupation with me. With his obsession for me that supersedes everything he does.

But here's a little deviation from the way everyone expects Bridget to react to all the reassurance that Bridget's the one he wants and he'd never do it again. Maybe it's cold, maybe it's a result of diluting my emotions and anticipated reactions from all the drugs, which were increased recently, did you catch the shift? Maybe I wasn't born yesterday and maybe I never saw this coming, I thought I had him wrapped but I was sure I did before he married Sophie so maybe she takes up just as much of him as I do and maybe, like me, there's more than enough room for more than one soulmate. Maybe we're lucid and acting and feeling but we're not stupid in never putting all our eggs in the one basket because you never know when it'll get kicked over and you'll have a mess left to deal with. Alone. Human beans weren't meant to be alone.

We weren't meant to be so fragile either.

Was I meant to be so cold?

I think I know exactly how Jacob feels in that when he thinks about me going to Loch he feels an uncontrollable sadness, and a panic and a rage that threatens to eat him alive. So it's better not to think about it all. We talked it out privately, we've dealt with it in therapy, it's done. Sophie calling now just seeks to undo me again and I'm not going there. I'm no longer naive and I don't care that *I* haven't fully dealt with it, preferring instead to take my knocks for my own betrayals and not touching Jacob's.

I can't. I'll die if I think about it and so I don't. Why in the hell do you think I happily agreed to upping my drugs to the highest dosage ever yet? Because I will put it off forever. It's how I deal with things. I just keep on going and pick up the pieces of my heart along the way and pretend everything is fine.

I told her I wished she hadn't called. That it wasn't fair of her to use me so that she could move on and feel better and soothe her own guilt. I think that's what surprises everyone now, how much rage can fester inside of such a tiny package unchecked for much longer than most people can carry that load.

I can. Indefinitely. And that can't be healthy. And I refuse to talk about to the right people. Because I simply feel like holding all the cards right now and making them nervous and maybe the stupid fragile girl is less stupid and even more stupid than we all previously thought.

Because I really have no idea what I'm doing here. What's sad is how comfortable this feeling is.

What's even more sad is how unfeeling this feeling is.

Tuesday 14 August 2007

Swords drawn.

I'm currently NOT falling in love with one of the Eagar brothers. Cursed Outdoor Life Channel. To spite you I won't even say which one. Probably the one who looks like Jake. This is why I don't watch TV. I'm all like Oooooh, cuuuuuute. I saw ten minutes of Heroes and Milo Ventimiglia and his gorgeous hair were lodged in my dreams for a month afterward.

Incorrigible girl.

Speaking of heroes, Jacob went back to see Mark early this morning for a bit of repair on one of his wings. Comes home with Protector in a gorgeous script above the now-fixed wings, clearly visible if he's only in a T-shirt. I'm floored and little bit cautious. He believes it goes well with my fragile tattoo. I have my reservations. However, he can pull it off in the way that only a 6'4", 200 lb guy can.

It smacks of another show of force, maybe. Another claim to ownership, a permanent statement, not as much for me as for everyone else. I think that's what I don't like. He doesn't need it.

Then he headed off to work, half days this week, department meetings and organizing his new office (shoebox, don't know where he's going to put his long legs when he sits down) and he's so excited, even though classes don't begin for a little over two more weeks.

He was cautious in leaving and has called five times. I don't see how he's going to get anything accomplished at this rate. He worries about me. I'm doing okay today, we went shopping. We're going shopping tomorrow too. I'm a little worried about me being alone too.

I'm a little more worried about the four times Ben called and didn't leave a message for me when he's been gone a whole twenty-four hours and usually he doesn't call for the first whole month or so.

The rest of this week is going to be as long as the previous hundred or so. I can tell.

It really is a nice tattoo. I'm going to ask Jacob if I can post a picture of it later. Maybe he can have it engraved on his imaginary shield to match, since no one's ever going to see it underneath this fortress he's built around us now. Proverbial or not, the armor's on, the flag is raised, I can't wait to see what sort of upset all these phone calls are going to cause.

I'm sure it goes both ways. Wait until the guys see that tattoo.

Fresh preacher karaoke.

Our kitchen is too busy these days for Jacob's favorite solitary pastime, there are four pairs of hands now committing effort to make meals and clean up. He has moved his one-man band to the backyard patio and sings and strums in the evenings, dedicated in a different way from the manner he follows singing through his days.

Last night I barely got one step over the threshold with his tea before I was moved to tears. It's been a while since he could do that with just a song (click the link to play, it will begin automatically and it's worth it to hear.).

    Rain rain go away,
    Come again another day,
    All the world is waiting for the sun.

    Is it you I want,
    Or just the notion
    Of a heart to wrap around so I can find my way around

    Safe to say from here,
    You're getting closer now,
    We are never sad because we are not allowed to be

    Rain rain go away,
    Come again another day,
    All the world is waiting for the sun.


   

Monday 13 August 2007

Turn toward the ocean.*

(My apologies for brief drunken journalling. Pathetic is an easy, easy role for Bridget to slip into.)

We went to the beach Saturday. White sand and freshwater north of us on a pretty lake and that's where Jacob takes me when I want to see a lot of water. Like a fish or a mermaid in danger of perishing if she dries out. It's one of the places we run to now, having found it on an exploration drive one morning while we were staying at the cabin we used to borrow.

Jacob gave the kids some swimming lessons and then we ate lunch from the picnic basket and I turned onto my stomach to read and sunbath for ten minutes or so and the kids proceeded to bury Jacob in the sand. They squealed and howled with laughter as he kept pretending to sneeze and half come out of the pile they had made on him.

I turned onto my back and put the book down and closed my eyes for a minute.

There it was.

My imperfect perfect.

That was it. A belly full of potato chips and a cucumber sandwich, sand in my pop and a borrowed copy of The Husband to read. Pink toenails courtesy of Ruth and a flash of blue bikini as she ran past with a bucketful of water to throw on Jake, who is bronzed perfectly with a hint of pink, muscles etched like a Greek statue in his brown board shorts. The only time his beard looks uncomfortable or out of place is here but he keeps it because he knows I like it. Henry was busy beside me digging a Big Hole, he told me, and asked if there were any cookies left. Or maybe watermelon.

I heard Jake's cellphone ring and I picked it up and it was nothing more than a wrong number. A nice change on the weekend.

I sat up and decided a quick swim was in order and before I could step in the water Jacob ran over and scooped me up and ran straight out and dumped me in the surf. I felt warm skin and then ice cold water and I screamed into a laugh and he laughed too and pulled me back close to him.

A wet kiss and a huge smile.

Perfect.

We came home a bit early to seek shelter from the sun and make some supper and the kids were asleep before 8. Then Jacob made us an electric lemonade. The alcohol hit me rather quickly thanks to drinking it so fast and the large doses of drugs. My head spun and I flipped out. I figured he'd be mad. I didn't know what I thought. He made the damned drink for me.

I went outside to clear my head and stumbled into a chair. I drank water and tried to wait it out but I was upset and tired and not able to deal with it. After a few harsh words I decided I'd just go to bed, having ruined such a nice day. Jacob blamed himself and followed me, trying to get me to stop. I missed the top step and fell forward and he caught me and we collapsed in the upstairs hall in a clumsy embrace.

Where I realized I wasn't the only one who had too much sun and too much alcohol.

His hands were so rough. He flipped me over onto my stomach and pulled off my underwear and slid his hands down around my hips and I fought with him and wound up with my head pressed to the boards while he did what he wanted to do anyway. I didn't get into it until the bitter end and he gathered me up off the floor and managed to pull the quilt off the bed and we collapsed onto the sheets in a sober embrace, ruined and forgiven and exhausted, sunburned and spent. He fell asleep mid-apology, knowing I didn't fault him for his brief abrasiveness. He fell asleep with me locked in his arms the way he should and I didn't fault him for his possessiveness either.

Because I don't. I don't fault him for anything anymore.

Sunday morning began awfully early for the sunrise service in the park but Jacob was on a roll. I was right, he did miss sermonizing, but he says not enough to return except occasionally. I expect when he is older and retires from teaching he'll make a most spectacular return. Of course, thinking ahead he could also quickly turn his back on all kinds of conventional careers and become an adventure travel guide in China. Nothing would surprise me with Jake. Nothing. I've come to expect the unexpected.

We went out for breakfast and then returned to church for the late-morning smaller summer crowd and then the day was ours again and we headed out for our family climbing workshop. The kids had a blast this time, being a lot more familiar with their gear and the people.

I collected $120 in cash for my weight gain and endured all kinds of jokes about cake and running and taking money from friends. Ben made his exit until our neighborhood is snow-dusted and winter has us in an icy grip once again. PJ did indeed stay for supper and Jacob and I have spent a lot of time talking about boundaries and feelings and control and overrides and difficulties and pulling rank on each other and partnerships too.

He never would have let Caleb in the house save for him feeling as if I would think he was trying to control me and oh, what a lovely mess we have to sort out in therapy today. Being married to Jacob is like living with a control freak who makes a huge effort to not appear to be a control freak. He admits this freely.

It's one of the least of our worries but we persevere. We work on everything.

*(The title is nothing more than a charming set of directions I read this morning, in perusing the real estate listings. We're selling the cottage but not some of the land. I'll write more about it when I can do it in a less-homicidal fashion.)

Saturday 11 August 2007

Im not drunk and not even scared, not anymote. Becasye Jacob loves me

Ones and onlies.

Let's have a Saturday morning barometer and go from there, it's been requested, as have a few other points I need to clear out, talk about, whatever.

Here.

It's so awesome having the house full of kids again. I know, I know, two shouldn't make such a huge difference but it goes from empty to full and noisy in a heartbeat. My heartbeat. They keep talking about Caleb and sports cars and how he showed them pictures of daddy and told them stories about when Daddy was little like they are and wow, I'm right back to nodding and smiling and pretending it's fine and I want to scream that he's not a good person. In any event, they were given a lovely lesson on passwords and familiar strangers and we're working with them so they know it's not okay for him to show up and take off with them.

It kills me to realize his goal is achieved and I'm scared. He knows where they go to school.

I can't think about it anymore. Hopefully the imaginary safety net we've drawn around them will hold. I can't think he would ever harm them, but hey, let's count how many surprises I have had with people I thought were safe?

No, on second thought, let's not. Let's move on, instead.

The dreaded weight check is in. I'll be collecting my cash winnings all week. Never place a weight bet with a princess who counts cake among her favorite things. I'm at 111. Highest ever. Jacob has pointed out that my cheeks have filled in and my abdomen is rounded a little. Lovely. But don't laugh at me, Jacob has tipped 200. Which he's so not happy about.

Ben's stopping by later to say his official goodbyes. He's on the road officially as of Wednesday and has a lot to do. He'll be back shortly before Christmas but in the meantime he wants to see me again before he goes and I'm willing, I know it's strange. I can't explain. He's broken up with his girlfriend and moved out of their apartment. His stuff goes into storage here and at John's place and then he's going to start over when he comes back. Not sure if it was good timing or better planning but Ben is Ben and what the hell can I do with him?

PJ's stopping by too with some climbing gear he borrowed from Jake. Watch it coincide perfectly with a mealtime. We're climbing this weekend and I'm expecting to find it much less scary than I did last time thanks to that skydiving surprise in between. I'm looking forward to it, which never happens. Even though in the summer. Jacob. climbs. shirtless. and. wow.

And I live with the guy.

Church tomorrow is Jacob's turn in covering Sam's brief holidays while he can get them. I'm excited. I love watching Jacob preach, I know, I'm a broken record. This is a test to wait for him to say he missed it and watch him lean back toward toward the left a little. Wait for it.

Now, we're off to the beach.