But I won't let this build up inside of meCaleb used his good graces last night to pick the lock on my bedroom door, squeezing himself through the opening left by Ben when he went back down to his studio to work, busier than ever thanks to everyone's need to create their magnum opus while in quarantine and then be able to burst out of the gates with a tour the minute they can. He may as well be with them, as with few exceptions Ben rarely shows his face, even as every single time he does come to bed with me or appear suddenly for a meal or a gardening afternoon he promises to spend more time and then promptly forgets. He makes it too easy for me to be angry at him but I can't be. Working keeps him busy and busy Ben is sober Ben and that's more important than anything, ever.
Caleb wedged himself inside the door and then inside the light, blooming just a hint of darkness within reach for me until I could step in and pull it right up over my head. I have demons of my own but instead of being bottled they are skinned in forms I recognize, comforting ones from my childhood, shapes that fit into a wagon you can pull along behind you, click-clack-click down the quiet hallway into the night.