Human curiosities

When sleep came, I fell for it. Down, down, head over heels, clawing at thin air, bicycling knees to try and tread the wind.

I landed softly but I didn't know it.

Ben holds on as long as he can but it's inevitable, expected. And then he is holding a shell, the vessel of the soul that has escaped to a makeshift dreamland through some attempt by God to atone for all of the things I have been through.

In my dream I am never too cold or too hot. I'm never hungry and I never covet anything. I am never afraid. Dreams come from heaven, I know that now. Or maybe they are designed to give us a taste of heaven in order to not be overwhelmed later in life, should we be given that reward.

Huh. I must tell this to Caleb when he comes back so he knows what he'll be missing.

In my dreams Ben never leaves and I never have to wake up until I have slept for days. Food arrives via the butler and everything we do is a whim. Music plays at the perfect volume, the perfect song audible but not overwhelming, my soundtrack following me down the road. Life is a circus. My own perfect circus, and that is my secret.

I open my bag and Coney Island is inside. So I put one foot in and then the other and I pull up the handles and in a singsong voice I say:

We're here.

I'm standing in front of the gates and the sun is just beginning to rise. It isn't cold here. The seagulls are competing with my song, goddammit, I'm going to have to speak to someone about that. I straighten the hem on my dress and tuck my hair behind my ears. Time to get to work.

I see Ben at the far end of the dock. He is watching the sea and waiting for me. Too far away to call to, and too far away to walk to, even and so I break into a run. I can't hear my footfalls but I can hear the metal clang of shutters as the boardwalk comes to life. Once the sun breaks free of the horizon it seems as it it calls out to everyone to shake off their own dreams and join us in this skewed reality where tolerance and cash are the only focus, and illusion is the means.

It's like the midway only less family-friendly and sometimes more sinister but I know I am safe. There is no dread. There's no 'careful' here. There are no places I need to be warned to avoid. I am no longer that fresh-scrubbed ruined twelve-year-old girl pulling cotton candy out of her hair and counting the seven twenty-dollar bills at the end of a good week. It's my dream and Caleb can't find me here.

This is the big leagues and I fit in only by virtue of pretty with not nearly enough tattoos and my rampant disregard for public appraisal unless it's of the appreciative kind. Ben fits in because he can make a scary face. That is all. He refuses to swallow fire and we've decided being sawed into pieces is overrated and agonizing.

Freaks. As is.

I reach him at last. His tattoos have been drawn into his pockets as he turns to smile at me.

You made it.

Why do I always start out at the opposite end from you?

I don't know, princess, but it doesn't take us long to regroup.

Weird.

Maybe that's part of the theme of your dream.

You're right. I bet that's exactly what it is.

Are you ready?

Yes. Let's go.

I reach up high into the air and grab the zipper pull, swinging my legs up over the edge until I am sitting on the ledge high above the pier now. The sun is a huge ball of warm, an orange I can taste, tinged with a purple I can feel. The tangible sunrise is a parting gift I am eager to learn how to extract, but not today.

I open my eyes and Ben is wrapped around me, sleeping deeply, his thumb resting on my philtrum and the rest of his hand wrapped around my head.

We are sleeping on a bed of twenty-dollar bills and all I can smell is cotton candy and decay.

Last night Ben and I sat outside in the freezing cold on the verandah, a candle burning on the rustic little table that I refused to paint and finally it has achieved the weathered grey I adore. His tea grew cold and my red wine grew warm as we ignored our drinks in favor of watching the wind and the moon, his hands clutching the blanket closed that we were sharing. I was tucked down in his arms, his chin on my head, his legs making for more warmth than I could have asked for around mine.

I was listening for Jacob's big windchimes but I can't hear them over the roar of the ocean. I hate to have to ask Ben to move them closer to the house again, because he's already done it twice, but I think I will. What is the point of a noise if it can't be heard?

Eventually I stopped trying to hear them and settled back against his chest and his head came forward beside mine, He kissed my cheek and pressed his ear against mine, rocking me slowly.

I closed my eyes.

Right.

Now.

This.

Clear as day he whispers in my ear. I hear him every single time.

I love you, Bridget.

I love you too, Ben. Forgive me.

Just let it be, little bee.

Which part?

All of it, for now. You're in my arms. I'm not going to think about anything else right now.

Yeah.

This is what I live for.

Me too.

He pulled back and looked down at me.

Really?

I nodded.

I thought you would have said something about my huge dick.

It was on the tip of my tongue.

You know, princess, there are so many places I could take that statement but for the sake of this beautiful night I'll just let it go.

Okay.

For now.

Yup.

But later, I-

Benjamin.

Yeah?

Shush.

Okay.

Confirmation bias.

(Firstly. If you don't understand polyandry, for the love of God, find another blog to read. I don't need any more emails telling me how fucking provocative I am.)

I went for a long bike ride with Lochlan last night. He got a new suit of body armor for his motorcycle and when he came down the hall fully suited up and carrying his helmet I had one of those moments where I'm just like wow. Just wow. It makes him look tall. Which he is anyway to me at 5'9" but this makes him look taller. All-black suit. It turned his hair to dark strawberry. He had it cut last week and all of his curls are gone.

We drove for hours, it seemed. We stopped in at the market and had fish and chips. Up the mountain. Up to the tinder-dry ski hills on the unsafe highway where one false move losing the edge of the road and you will plunge to your death straight down. We picked fights and took some pictures. Back down. Too fast.

We saw an owl. At once, the weirdest and the coolest thing ever.


We picked another fight and it resulted in Lochlan leaving me standing by the water and driving off. He was back five minutes later, parking his bike and striding over to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me back with him. I opted not to speak for the rest of the trip lest I get abandoned somewhere now that it was getting dark.

(Though, really it's been twenty years since he actually didn't come back for me. I have such fond memories of walking home in the middle of the night, back to the camper/cottage/house. Really I do.)

We arrived back home and I passed him my helmet and entered the house. It seemed so warm and inviting after being outside. Lights on everywhere.

Ben was sitting at the counter. Reading. He put his arms out and I flew into them as he stood up. Lochlan didn't say anything. I felt Ben nod and then he released me and turned me back to face Lochlan. Permission.

Let's sort this out, princess. I had no intentions of ruining this day.

Yeah.

I followed Lochlan upstairs. He shut the door behind me and locked it and then walked away down the hall. I followed. Another door, another lock. I'm amused. He's going to make it difficult for me to walk away from him now. That's funny because he's the one who always walks away. I stand my ground and fight.

Inside of this door he walks right over and kisses me. Hard. So hard I am forced back against the wall. Inside of a minute we are tearing at the layers of clothing keeping us apart. He is kissing my forehead. My cheeks. My lips. My shoulders.

I give him a shove backwards and he brings me with him, throwing me down onto the bed where he pulls the rest of my things off and then takes off everything too. He is flushed. Aroused. Gentler now. He pulls me up into his arms and we are cuddled in the center of his bed. He pulls the blanket up around me because everything in Lochlan's life is super heated and he lifts me up and brings me back down and I almost cry out but I bite his shoulder instead. He just holds me tighter. He is moving us, gently, quietly. That perfect dance. He leans me way back and follows and he is against me now, picking up speed, wrapping his arms tight around me, burying his face against the pillow, against my temple, his breath so loud in my ear. Our legs are tangled.

His hand moves to the back of my head and I am pressed against his chest as he raises himself up slightly. He won't make it hurt, he won't make it violent, ever but what he does do is make sure neither one of us is left wanting anything. His other hand is holding him up and I reach up and pull him back down to me. Slower now, forever now. The urgency has been dealt with, everything else remains. And the memories that keep us apart come crowding back in, extinguishing the moment.

(Just stay like this and everything is okay and tomorrow we will go and play at the beach and then at tent call we'll go work and then we'll steal dinner and maybe eat in bed. And then make love all night and sleep on the sand all day. Pretty please? And no fighting. I don't like it when we fight, Lochlan.)

He is slowing to a crawl now and the second-guess has commenced. His hands come up, cradling my head. His lips find mine. When we kiss our eyes are wide open.

My God, Bridget. I can't give you back to him.

It's a whisper and I have to ignore it. I know that. I have to pretend I didn't hear it and he will pretend he never said it. It's the other flaw in our beings. We can't get along and we can't be apart. I don't know what to do, this is the only answer I have.

I push him away and climb off his bed and brush past him to go to the shower. He reaches for me but I have already walked away from him.

In moments I am drowning myself under the hot spray. Not washing, just standing there. He joins me and begins to wash my hair. He washes my body, scrubs every inch of my skin, gets on his knees to wash the backs of my legs, my knees, my toes. He stands up and rinses me, holding me back under the stream. Holding me close. He puts his head down against mine and the water pours over us. We stay like this for a very long time. Finally he drops his arms from me and opens the door. I am pushed out and he closes the door again. He does not come out.

I dry myself quickly, put my clothes back on, and go back to plant a single kiss on the shower door. Lochlan is facing the wall now, his hands up above his head in a defeated stance. I know he has cranked the hot water up to the maximum now and the steam clouds are billowing out.

I turn on the switch for the fan and I close the door on my way out.

I don't hear him when he says I love you. I never do.

Saturday morning car tunes.

I'm not the only one who sees them
I'm not the only one they keep up at night
I'm not the only one not sleeping
I'm not the only one who's dreaming out loud
Dreaming out

Caleb was by this morning already, bringing fresh croissants and good news and his car! for me to use! He is leaving town for a couple of weeks, planning to return before school begins and more importantly, before Ruth's eleventh birthday.

Don't presume that my choice to keep him close has anything to do with Lochlan or Ben. This is not like that. This is a whole different thing and it could be called coercion or extortion or something but I like to just minimize that and make everybody happy and also it makes missing Cole less prevalent somehow in that he's right here, half the time.

(If I could get August to wear more flannel and spend less time tying his hair back I could have Jake too in some regard but whatever! Let's not go there! It's a beautiful Saturday and Ben is off for the weekend but having worked almost around the clock for the past twelve days straight somehow I see him sleeping all day long, possibly opening an eye around two or three o'clock to swallow a hamburger whole and going right back to sleep.)

I don't know why I'm explaining things to you anyway. Drama comes and drama goes and we keep it to a low simmer and we're incredibly refined. Trust me. In a perfectly-tousled hair and bright eyes kind of way. With money now. So our problems apparently are your reality television show.

Caleb is heading east to attend a few meetings in Toronto and then he'll stop in Montreal to see (ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHH) Sophie, and then he'll continue on to Nova Scotia to spend a week with his folks. I sent along my best from us even though I talk to them regularly. I was invited to go, seeing as how Pepper Potts may be making a return appearance and if anyone needs an assistant, it is Satan by far, but I declined because um, no. No trips with him. I don't what the fuck he is thinking. Yes, dear, stay in my life so we all don't go down in flames forever but no, I'm not going on vacations with you.

If push comes to shove I can make things miserable for him too. One of the small comforts of being tortured for so long by the same person is that eventually you discover the little things that drive them mad and you can use them as weapons. It keeps the devil at arms length. And it keeps Bridget safe.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go whisper disgusting things involving Krispy Kreme donuts into my husband's ear and maybe he'll get up and take me out for a second breakfast. He can drive.

In stitches here tonight
We are ripping the seams out
I'm pushing hard to tear it loose
In stitches here tonight
We are ripping the seams
There's something missing
Chilled and lonely in between

Today's musical accompaniment can be found here. Enjoy.

Beauty, undismayed.

Anything to make you smile
You are the ever-living ghost of what once was
I never want to hear you say
That you'd be better off
Or you liked it that way
But no one is ever gonna love you more than I do
No one's gonna love you more than I do

He is still drunk and I'm losing patience.

Amazing how someone can be so perfect and then within a half a bottle he is all mess. I am sitting on the steps again and Lochlan is sitting, rather, laying in the chair, his legs splayed out because there isn't a cooperative muscle in his body right now, including his tongue.

He has Band of Horses on repeat and I want to hasten my hearing loss to the point of total silence because it hurts to listen to him humming no one's going to love you more than I do.

It hurts because I have stuck to my guns with the stubbornness of a child but when I look in the mirror I see a little old woman who has been to hell and back so many times she has an elevator named after her.

He still sees that child, and we still carry the burden of our history like a cross, dead weight keeping us from the future. He is horrified by what I have been through but powerless to change it, so he folds himself inward and he continues on his button-down perfectionist way, with clean, unsmudged glasses and his strawberry blonde beard that I have loved since forever that he never shaves off anymore because he sees my protests when the others do and he wants the upper hand. He gives others the shit jobs of giving me bad news and dealing with the less good parts because he didn't want me to project my feelings onto him and it backfired, oh, hell did it ever backfire on him.

So now to make himself look even better in everyone's eyes he's going to spend the weekend lit up like the fourth of July, which goes against his whole better-than-you stance to Ben, but at the same time Lochlan can turn his alcoholism on and off at will. Ben cannot so it's just another thumb of Lochlan's nose.

And in return Ben points out every chance he gets that I married him, that I am his wife, and I made my choice.

But did she?

Lochlan lets the question slide out of his mouth as a challenge and Ben is forced to drop it based on the fact that he was biggest proponent of this new joint venture. Since Bridget doesn't have security anymore, give her whatever she needs so if that means being able to go to anyone she wants for comfort, affection, advice or straight-up hardcore sex then let's do this thing.

Like any red-blooded man, Ben agreed to that. He thought, well, everyone thought that I would marry Lochlan next. That I would just go back to him and Ben figured if he still had access to me that some is always better than nothing at all.

And whoops, I married Ben instead so all of the sudden the roles are reversed and to Lochlan some of me is better than none at all and Ben is all she picked me! Shut this down! Because all of the sudden instead of getting a piece of the action you are loaning out your wife and hoping she comes back to you with her loyalties intact, knowing it's a risk, just like getting out of bed in the morning. He has struggled with that. I have too. I thought they were all insane and that this was the worst idea ever. I thought how dare they objectify me like this, how dare they turn me into a time share, a possession to be fought over.

Then I got over myself. And you should too.

Lose your uptightedness and be free. The world needs more love. The world also needs more vodka but I am almost out.

Thankfully.

I am off to spend some much needed alone-time with Ben. I have not seen him much today.

Goodnight, Lochlan.

Goodnight, Bridgie. Who was it who said "Remembering is only a new form of suffering"?

Baudelaire, Lochlan.

Oh yeah, Baudelaire. I should have known.

Yeah, you should have.

Cake.

Yesterday was more of the same. I careened from one appointment to the next. I had to squint hard to drive. I kept falling asleep on my feet. I think I have the flu. The crushing exhaustion is back even though I am mostly sleeping, it's just not enough.

Like everything, nothing is ever enough. For the boys, for me.

I am making a concentrated effort to be happy. Just because. Because anything else is a waste of time and energy and detrimental to my health. And mental to my detri, ruinous and miserable.

And as much as I love the image of standing in a puddle of dark water with my black umbrella and my black dress, soaked to the skin in my own agony, stitched to a dark cloud with threads of hate and jealousy and rage and grief it's as tiring as your endless fake chippery and enthusiasm, self-improvement and utter perfection.

Maybe I can just sit somewhere in the middle. Perched on the line burning one shoulder in the sun while the other freezes in the dark and everything will be okay. Because I don't do fake-chipper any better than you do deadly darkly honest.

So Caleb stays in the picture.

So does Lochlan for that matter. That's what I need. It's what I would like. The smart thing to do would have been to leave well enough alone but I didn't then and now I can't. And for all the circles we travel in falling out and then falling back in they are constants in a life that seems to delight in ripping the rug out from under me and I told myself after Jacob flew that I would not deny anyone anything any more than I would want any small comfort denied me.

I went to each and every man after Jacob. Each one. All of them. I tried on life with them if only for the familiar, if only I could find that feeling where it didn't hurt all the damned time and Ben and I made a grand and stupid effort to seduce each other and it surprised me. HE surprised me. For all of his fucktardery and foolishness he has a heart of gold and it's in piss-poor shape, just like mine but it's there and it's soft and it's full for me and he comes first. Understand?

First.

Every last time.

I will stand behind his back with my head down and listen to his instructions and follow them carefully whether I want to or not most times. Then I will step ahead and I will soften the blows of history so it is easier for him to live in close existence to the objects of his derision but I can't make them go away because I'm selfish.

I apologize for that but he won't accept it. We keep trying on lives and testing out ideas and we always come back to this because this works, pure and simple and sometimes self-preservation means squeezing your eyes tightly shut and pretending you don't see things if you can't stand to watch. And admitting that you like it if you do.

Sometimes it means living the life of someone you don't recognize in the mirror. I wish the introductions would be made. I feel like I don't know how to act around her, I don't know where to sit or what to say. She judges me. You all judge me.

I still face her. I still face YOU, even though I owe you nothing at all.

And I know my choices aren't always right but they're mine, and I'll take responsibility for them.

Shove.

(what did I do about the envelopes? Nothing. And everyone is happy.)

She's all that I see
and all that I breathe
Take a breath and hold her in
as the shadows whispering

Last night around ten, we heard the car. Or rather, they heard the car. I didn't hear a damned thing until the doorbell chimed. Ben, August, Lochlan, Schuyler, Daniel and Sam all looked at each other and then they looked at me.

I stood up to answer the door. They didn't move.

There's Satan. Melting the paint off my front door. It's still a thousand degrees outside and he's in a suit. He's holding one of those fucking grey envelopes and I want to stab him with it. I'll watch him die like I watched his brother die and call it a day on this family.

He looks past me at the six men sitting in the kitchen and asks me if I will join him outside.

Chickenshit. I hear Schuyler say it but it's ignored and I pull the door shut behind me. Ben was standing up just as I met his eyes and then he disappeared from my view.

I sat down on the front step and Caleb seemed surprised. There are two chairs and a table there and I picked the steps. He sat down beside me and I put my head down on my knees. He put his hand on my back. I could feel the imprint of his fingers burning through cloth and then flesh, leaving his prints on bone but I didn't move.

How long are you going to continue with this game? I miss you. I miss having you to look forward to. I miss you lighting up my home with your laugh and with the music you always play.

I looked at him. Curious. Then I started laughing. I couldn't help it. I laughed until my sides hurt and tears were pouring down my face. And then I stopped abruptly, wiped my face with my hands and put my head back down, away from him this time.

You sound like a desperate man.

Maybe I am.

There it was. That hint of fallibility designed exclusively to unsettle me, leaving me vulnerable to his charm. And still I played along by not playing along.

You're lonely.

Yes. I've been lucky to have you back in my life.

That isn't going to change, Caleb.

He stopped moving and held his breath and then spoke carefully next.

I mean in a greater capacity than coparenting.

Look, I'm overruling all of you, this moratorium is done.

What?

I need to get the others.

Why?

So I don't have to repeat myself. That's all I ever do.

Bridg-

Be right back.

But I never went back outside. I came in and six pairs of eyes were on me and my heart was thudding so loud it was making me sick and I just nodded and said I was sorry and I went upstairs and crawled into bed fully clothed and I slept. I slept so hard I don't even know if Ben ever came to bed or if Caleb ever left because I got up late, took the kids to the pool and made a concentrated effort to make sense of whatever it is I think I just did. I just need the fighting to stop. I can handle pretty much anything, but I can't handle being the rope in a human tug of war anymore.

Just. Just fucking get along.

Mood kitchen.

I can just see my 'mood' kitchen. You know, the blinds come down, the lights all go out and angry death metal starts chugging so loud you forget what language you speak and then a burned piece of toast throws itself out of the toaster and upon my mercy.

That's Bridget's mood kitchen.

A child among the dead.

I'm coming up only to hold you under
I'm coming up only to show you wrong
And to know you is hard, we wonder
To know you all wrong, we were.

Down, down, down. Calling him. Screaming his name as I slip and stumble down the steps, round the corner and pick up speed racing down the hallway in the dark.

JAKE! JACOB, PLEASE!!!!

I grab the handle and almost pull my arms off since I was halfway past it and I'm yanked to a violent halt. I turn it, breaking the rusted seal, my shoulders aching from the effort and finally it begins to move. The door takes an eternity to open. Forever. Tears are streaming down my face and I squeeze through into the light and fall to the floor underneath the half-open door and I'm sobbing and I see Cole first since he is on the ceiling and I reach up to grab the door and it moves quicker than I can suddenly and I hear the ringing before the heavy iron connects with the side of my skull. Lights out.

When I open my eyes I am still on the floor and Jacob's face is looking into mine. Cole is on the ground now too, slightly removed from us but still very much touchable from here. Concerned. As he should be. Thanks to my years with him I've discovered it's very incredibly easy to knock myself out now. You would know that, it's a feature of hockey players and battered wives.

What's happened?

I don't know what to do. He won't stop.

Ben? (Cole says it with a smirk. Just rewards for breaking his heart.)

Your brother.

The smirk disappears. Jake frowns too.

What did he do?

He keeps asking for me. Every single day. He won't stop.

Ben won't let him near you?

No.

Good. But I don't like his reaction.

Did he pay you?

I don't think I know how to fix this, princess.

Did he pay you, Jacob?

This is a job for the living.

Cole howls with laughter. Sarcasm disguised as mirth.

DID HE PAY YOU?

Jacob stands up and pulls me to my feet. I'm dizzy but I don't care. He walks away until the shadows close around him and I can't see him anymore.

You son of a bitch. You left for money.

I DIDN'T LEAVE FOR MONEY, BRIDGET! I DIDN'T TAKE THE MONEY!

Then why did you leave me!

I can't talk about this anymore.

What else do you have to do, Jake? You have plans? What the fuck? Talk to me! Come back here so I can see you!

But he doesn't. Instead Cole walks into the light, right past me, to the door and he looks out into the hall and he turns back and considers his thoughts for a moment. His face is perfectly lined, his hair glossy-bright chocolate in the light. I never get used to seeing him without his glasses and I wonder if when I die I'll be able to hear everything again.

You should go back now, Bridget.

I don't know what to do about Caleb though.

You shouldn't have let him back into your life, baby. You don't know how HARD I worked to keep him out of it. And you just let him right back in the second I was gone. None of them stand a chance. He'll ruin everyone and everything to get to you, don't you GET THAT?

He is screaming at me and I haven't flinched yet. There is no fear in heaven I guess. Oh, please, please let me be dead, this is so lovely.

Are you going to help me or not?

There's nothing I can do.

There has to be some way to end this.

Sure there is, baby and you know what it is.

I do?

Death.

I have to kill him?

Let me put it to you this way. There are two ways to get Caleb out of your life. One way is for him to die. The other is for you to.

Jesus, Cole, stop it.

Hey, I tried to kill you to save you from him.

I hope you rot down here.

I'll bring the golden boy with me into that adventure, baby. See you soon.

Fuck you.

He leered in close and I could see the empty black holes inside of those glorious dark blue eyes and I finally felt a shiver of dread. It was gone before I could use it up and wish for more.

That will be the first order of business when you get here. For old times' sake.

All around me the unholy squeals and yells of protest began again and the wind picked up and the chaos began. Everything was moving and screaming and I put my hands up over my ears and I closed my eyes and I knelt down on the cold stone floor and tucked my arms up around my head and I waited. I could feel movement in the air all around me but I waited, still and quiet and finally when there was no more noise I brought my arms down and I opened my eyes.

Nothing.

Jake?

No answer.

Cole?

Nothing. I look up and the door is wide open.

I took the clue and I went through it and I ran, just as fast as I did to get down there. Back down the hallway into the light then plunged into the dark again and then I grabbed the railing for the staircase and hit the first step and bounced off Satan, who was sitting there with his head in his hands. Waiting. Maybe sleeping. I hit the ground, landing hard on my back and I pulled myself back up and stood before him but he didn't move. He didn't acknowledge me and I waited and I did not run even though every nerve in my body was on fire to flee. I just stood there with my arms down at my sides, hands clenched into shaking fists, expressionless for all of my terrified curiosity.

Finally he stood up. We are seven inches apart.

I'm breathing through my nose and my air is his exhalation. My entire body is wound tight, like the strings on Ben's guitar. This is the very last place I ever want to be with Caleb. He doesn't deserve to get the chance to talk to his brother or be in the presence of my Jacob. He doesn't get the comfort. He isn't allowed here in my head. Ever ever ever. Go away Caleb. I don't want you here. And still I did nothing.

You don't have to be afraid of me, Bridget.

He whispers it as his arms come up and I go into them.

We've had some amazing experiences together. Haven't we?

I am silent. I do absolutely nothing except hold on to him, my arms tight around his neck. I've gotten good at going somewhere else and that's why he shouldn't be here. This is not his place, this is my safe place. Go away. Go away. Go away.

You don't have to be afraid of me.

He repeats himself and this time he sounds different. I pull away to look at him and he is twenty years old again and I am suddenly screaming like I did the night when I was twelve.

But Lochlan didn't save me then and he's not going to save me tonight. I have to do everything myself.

Beyond the Sea.

I know beyond a doubt
My heart will lead me there soon
We'll meet, I know, we'll meet beyond the shore
We'll kiss just as before
And happy we will be beyond the sea
And never again I'll go sailing

Another night, another envelope, this one held back like a starting pitch and flung far and fast off the cliff, Ben staggering back slightly from the momentum. I figured the envelope would land ten feet away on the rocks but he cut it just right. I'm sure it's now wedged between the bronze plaques, exactly where Ben would like to nail Caleb to the rocks. At low tide, no less.

He walked back up the path, up the stairs and onto the verandah and he picked up the needle and put it back at the beginning of the Frank Sinatra record we have on rotation these days. Sometimes late at night we put it on and we dance, but only for a few moments. Invariably Ben will stop, tears at the corners of his eyes, his face completely overwhelmed and he'll kiss the top of my head and then take my hand and pull me inside. The time for dancing is finished.

I have gotten under his skin, permeated his tough shell and broken down the wall of ego he wears as his armor into battle. God forbid he lets me see it ever but sometimes a little bit shines through, like when we dance.

And when he sleeps, for he has finally taken to clutching me against him like a favorite doll, the way I like to be held when I sleep. Absolute safety. No question, no falling, no nightmares. Something he resisted, always pushing me away. Too hot. Gotta sleep now he would protest. I would fall asleep with my lip sticking out a mile wide, pouting into my dreams, tripping over my selfishness.

Things are shifting between us, and it's for the better. Maybe it's the united front. Maybe it's that the tests have been handed out and I have passed and I didn't need to study. They were easy ones. Thirty years of history versus the most difficult human being I have ever encountered in my existence? Natch. The threat of certain ruin and the loss of everything I hold dear versus this giant alcoholic with anger management issues and a motorcycle that is louder than thunder? Anytime. Violent, desperate love from someone with absolutely no experience in love at all?

Got him right here. Not giving him up so stop waiting.

He's the jigsaw man, after all.

The silence from the other side of the city is deafening. The envelopes keep coming as if Caleb is trying to will me to him formally, telekinetically.

That's been done already. Find a new trick, asshole. Bet yet, just stop.