(Sometimes what you need is what you fight.)

My heartbeat, my oxygen
My banner, my home
My future, my song

He lay there in near-dark, tucking my hair behind my ear, his face just inches away in the tiny bed in the camper.

Why is it still so hard, Peanut? You're perpetually in shock and the rest of the time you'll give your heart in exchange to whoever gives you the time of day. I want it all back. How do we get it back? We are whispering. His eyes fill up and spill over into mine.

We've burned all our promise tickets and are back to square one. We've used up all our good fortunes, bought for a big tip and a promise not to call the cops about the still out behind the fortune teller's trailer. We've come to our year of reckoning and it isn't going our way. So we'll have to use this new map and figure out how to go in a completely different direction. We'll reinvent ourselves again. Not freaks but adventurers. Not children but adults. Not done yet but working on making sure it all turns out okay.

I don't know what he did. I don't know why it still hurts like this. If I did I would stop it. I don't want to feel like this. I want to love you and love Ben and live in the Collective and just be happy but I can't and nothing works.

(The closest we've ever had to normal was that little kitchenette room in Atlantic City. He lost his mind there and I hated it. I hated everything about it. That wasn't living. It was waiting to die.

What if we tried harder?

I feel like I haven't tried at all since our honeymoon. I'm sorry.

Don't be, peanut. You're doing so good.

Doesn't feel like it or I wouldn't make my husband cry almost as much as I do.

He pulls my hands up between us, kissing my knuckles. I hurt for you, bridge. If I could take this pain from you I would. Just tell me what to do.

Take the deal. Take the money. Pit them all against each other if you have to but don't waste an opportunity that's only going to come around once.

What if you-

I'm not leaving you.

We are nose to nose now, eyes wide. I can feel him shaking. I don't know if its fear or the chill in the camper since the heater isn't hooked up and I'm not much enough to keep a whole man warm.

He closes his eyes and lets out a long breath. Sleep, peanut.

I nod and my eyes close too, against my wishes to continue to study his face.

I love you, Bridget.