A whole post in italics means it's not for you.
(He stood in the kitchen doorway for a good twenty-five minutes while I fussed around cleaning up breakfast, getting progressively louder as I slammed things around and generally found ways to drag out my chores, pointedly ignoring him.
Twenty-five minutes in, he shifted his stance, putting his arm up on the doorframe, If I say I'm sorry would you notice me? He's trying to be serious but he's succeeding in being resplendent instead and I'm trying my best to not cave in.
You humiliated me in front of the others.
No, I didn't. They think way worse on a regular basis.
Lochlan!
It's true! Jesus, Bridget. Every one of 'em, an animal in disguise.
So you just walk around dripping contempt on all of us, do you? Are we beneath you?
Hell, no. It's the other way around. I don't deserve this sort of stability or luck and I buckle at the extent to which I have changed my life. For you. For us.
Did you come in here to be resentful then?
No, Bridget! I came to apolofix (long story, made up language) and you're twisting it all around.
I stop slamming because I can't hear him and stand up straight, waiting.
I think things would be a lot easier if I didn't have to put my life to a vote every time I want to take a piss, that's all, peanut. I just want to go back to having only two people to take care of, you and myself.
That doesn't fly when you have a daughter, Loch.
I don't mean it like that. I mean when it comes to you.
Jake tried to lock things do-
I don't mean like that!
Then why don't you tell me what you MEAN, then!
Can you hear us? What are we doing? We fall in love, build it all up and then tear it all apart. It's a vicious cycle, Peanut. It's fucking stupid is what it is.
Where are we now?
Tear-apart.
Then?
I withdraw. You disengage. I don't know. We aren't together and then we drift back somehow. It's agony in between and I would spare both of us that.
Maybe that's just the way we do things.
We shouldn't. Not now. Now we have to make an effort.
I'm not the one who showed up drunk!
I'm FUCKING SCARED, BRIDGET!
I dropped the towel on the floor and just stood there. He was so loud and so honest right there. Loudly honest and honestly loud and completely unconcerned with being overheard.
Of what? What are you scared of? (Oh please answer me for once. Pleasepleaseplease.)
Not getting you back. Ben. Caleb. Batman. Myself. Pick something. I'm scared of it.
You're the one who keeps giving me away.
We don't work..together. We don't seem to have-, I don't know, it seems to be short-lived and then we're fighting and I don't want it to end. I get so scared and everything gets so dark and I can't breathe.
Me neither.
Then let's keep the lights on. Please, Bridge.
He puts his hand out across the counter and I take it eagerly. He squeezes my fingers tightly and I know we're both going to kick the lightbulbs into a thousand fragments before we find a way to circumvent the past. Too much too soon. Too little, too late. Too bad, so sad.)
