People always want to know what I'm doing-doing, AKA listening to/playing/wearing, watching/thinking. Maybe that's what Pinterest was supposed to be for? I don't know. I like words more in this age of attentions that can barely span two molecules, let alone an afternoon. Pinterest was all pictures. I haven't been interest in pictures since I was six.
Wearing: Lucky brand t-shirts and frayed jeans. Docs. Whatever Caleb hates most. The most expensive, gorgeous lingerie underneath (Jane Woolrich, usually) because I'm a huge brat like that. I wear dresses when I should, no worries. Sometimes I don't wear anything but then I'm not allowed to leave my room. Unless I'm in someone else's room. Muhaha.
Watching: Having caught up with American Horror Story, Game of Thrones and The Walking Dead, we are watching The 100 (they have Olympic eyebrow skills on that program) and considering starting Breaking Bad which when I write it I always start writing Breaking Benjamin. Go figure.
Listening to: ABBA (Okay, I'm not but by virtue of some of the more flamboyant people who live here I get to anyway, RIGHT LOCHLAN?), Demon Hunter. Deepfield. Chimaira. Rush.
Playing: Knock-Knock (I love this game so much you don't know), Hearthstone (I'm terrible but learning patiently) and on my iphone, Monument Valley (how far have you wandered, silent princess?) because it's gorgeous.
Thinking? You don't want to know what I think. Or maybe you do but I still censor myself as much as I can. It's not like Duncan's here and I need to roll my tongue back up and stuff it in my little head, right?
Do I write these things just to provoke them? Maybe.
***
Lochlan is eating crow and not sorry for it. Tells me I can't go anywhere and then says if we must go he'll come too and I roll my eyes and stuff more birds down his throat and maybe he'll choke on those if he won't choke on the words already.
Enough. Devil's right, Baby. You can't risk this so soon.
I wait for everything forever.
How did you get so dramatic? I just stare at him until he clues in. In any case, we said no. Help him to keep going ahead. Help him be strong but do it here with help. Safety.
Safe is a state of mind I can't reach.
You know what I mean.
Naw, I don't think I do.
Bridget, please. I can't. I can't risk you. Or him.
What if we went and it was fine? What if nothing bad happened?
Then you would both become over-confident.
Nice. Oh, ye of little faith.
The only faith I have is in you. Nothing else. Not Ben, not time, not fate. Just you.
(Caleb's words about the church of Bridget ring in my head, the bells that call the believers to service.)
But you don't trust me.
That's not what I said.
It's what you mean!
I think I'm done talking about this. In time, you'll understand.
Jesus, would you stop saying that? I'm as lucid as I'm ever going to get before the downhill slide begins to dementia and then just pure oblivion. Can't wait.
Bridget, would you stop? You're a child! You've got your whole life ahead of you and you keep pushing me away in favor of living the hard parts on your own! Just stop it!
(Makes me wonder if I'm the one who's crazy. Maybe it was Lochlan all along.)
I won't push you away anymore. I whisper it. I can't hear myself, how can he hear me?
You couldn't if you tried now.
Aren't you scared?
Always.
Me too.
