Flickering between the lines.Angels and buttercream. That's what Ben said I smelled like when I threw myself into his arms last Tuesday, and that's what he said again Friday night when I repeated that hug after leaving in a hurry Thursday night, thanks to Lochlan attempting a predictable strong-arm against our freedoms, thanks to those promises carved into stone made by the guys, thanks to Cole. Thanks to Jake, who flew away, and thanks to Ben himself, who couldn't quite get and keep himself under control.
Stolen moments floating softly on the air,
Borne on wings of fire and climbing higher.
Ancient bonds are breaking,
Moving on and changing sides.
Dreaming of a new day,
Cast aside the other way.
I won't be hurt. The kids and I are to be safe no matter what.
And we tried everything and when everything still wasn't enough, Ben went away for a little while. He went to detoxify himself from the drugs and alcohol and re-learn how to exist without needing it.
He went to rehab, okay? What most people would call a nice cushy kind-of resort high up in the mountains, he calls the hardest work of his life, where he had to learn to be open and transparent and where he learned new ways to cope and new ways to behave and a whole new set of methods on dealing with people and situations who would have formerly driven him to take a drink or make a line and check himself right out of reality.
It's been difficult, to put it mildly and for those who came here over the last month to read and found nothing to see might want to understand how hard it has been. I didn't want him to go, I would have kept him fucked up and difficult. They made him go, because I don't make my own decisions and Ben doesn't either. She won't be hurt by you, they told him and he went because I promised I wouldn't give my heart away while he was gone. And I didn't. I gave away all kinds of things but I kept my heart. I kept it for Ben because it belongs to Ben.
Five weeks was a long time for a girl who loves as hard as I do, affection-whoreish, heart-on-sleeve, fluttery and unable to make decisions and choices past who I want a hug from at any particular moment. And finally the week that families can come and join into the work and the rewards arrived and I was a mess, frankly.
I got that first hug from Benjamin and then I went to bits and Duncan agreed to come down and keep watch so I could sleep and he brought Corey (Say hi to the internet, Corey!) but then Lochlan gave them the sky-race of their lives, beating them to me and telling me Ben was never going to be trusted or worthy or just about anything else.
Or so I thought I heard, because that's mostly what he ever says. So I told him I needed a walk to clear my head and I kissed Ben goodbye and told him I needed some sleep and then I took my sorry, misinterpreted ass to the airport and came home.
And shit, I got it wrong. Lochlan isn't Caleb. There's no evil there. Only concern. Valid and long-suffering concern and Jesus, nail her to the goddamned floor so she'll listen, wouldja?
Ten hours later, I went back and we sorted all of it out and all the guys present, namely Daniel and Lochlan and Duncan and Corey and August and the kids and I and yes, even Ben, got to sort through the mess we have made of our collective, tangled existence and we made our plans for the present and even a tiny little bit into the future.
It doesn't involve Lochlan.
Except as a friend and a support-pillar sometimes but otherwise we've kicked out one side of the triangle and now we're just a dot again. A super-imposed, melted-together oneness of being and things are going to stay this way.
Bridget and Ben versus the world.
Ben really did well. The interesting part is he didn't need that much of a push to get himself back where he needed to be but he brought home more than he's giving up. He managed to get back around and find the handle he used to have on life. The weirdly quiet and stoic and vaguely crazy, funny, beautiful man who promised to love me in sickness and utter depravity (actual words from our wedding) returned and I'm so happy I could cry.
True to form there is cake, and all the guys are here to welcome him home to his life and he's not going to get a chance to try and fuck it up again and he no longer wants to but for now everything is going to be second by moment by hour by day and nothing more.
Only it's everything more.
He's home. Home with his family and we get one more chance at getting this right.
It's important. If you pray, say a prayer that he continues to do as well as he has so far, and say one that my strength holds because he feels better when I feel stronger and I feel stronger when he feels better and it's a vicious cycle I'd be thrilled to get stuck in forever.
Home. One of those good four-letter words. Ben is home.
Happy first anniversary, Benjamin. I love you.