Digital sin.

I won a bet last night. Because I know who Axel Braun is.

Why do I know this stuff? I can't remember very important phone numbers and yet I have the entire biography of Axel Braun in my head taking up valuable space?

I don't think I have ever laughed so hard and it felt good.

Textbook.

My therapist has spoken with me at length about disassociating. It's when you fraction parts of your personality so that some parts can pretend or ignore the bad things that happen or emotions you really don't want to deal with. Good temporarily but very dangerous in the long run.

I don't know ANYONE who's doing that.

Do you?

In the meantime, I'm going to spend today wondering how long my self-anesthetizing will last this time. Because I still can't feel anything from Thursday except very mild bitterness at losing a friend (again) for good.

That isn't right.

Thirty-five days.

Last night was a departure from life's most recent betrayal, romance to the extreme, a sharp contrast designed by my husband to offset the misery of recent life. I did say that Jacob is proactive, fixing things as soon as they have to be fixed, well, you really have no idea. The timing of this night couldn't have been better.

He decided that being married to me for 35 whole days was something we needed to celebrate in fine style and that it was planned long before Ben crossed me so acutely.

I didn't see this coming.

After we put the kids to bed last night, PJ called and said he was on his way. Huh? Why? He chuckled and told me to ask Jacob. When I hung up I asked Jake and he smiled smugly and told me to go put on my best dress, because tonight was to be a black tie occasion.

So I did, with my swing coat too because nights are cold now.

I was putting on a little makeup and he walks in to find his hairbrush and he's in his very best suit and tie. Drop dead gorgeous. I stopped mid-gloss, that's how handsome he is.

PJ arrives to babysit and we leave. We drove over past the waterfront market and Jake parked the truck and then we walked down to the lawns and docks that stretch out beside the river. We got to the top of the stone steps leading to the boardwalk and Jake asked me to close my eyes. Then he led me down the steps slowly (this was scary-dark night, high heels, and my eyes are closed, on hundred year old stone steps set into grass. You try it!) and when my shoes hit wood he told me I could open my eyes.

Wow.

A beautiful table set for two. On the boardwalk right beside the water. Candles, white table linens, a tiny vase with a single white rose. And all the way around the table, strung from the lampposts were tiny white lights, sparkling and twinkling. It was breathtaking. He walked me to the table and took the rose, passing it to me. He told me the past thirty five days with me as his wife have been the greatest days of his life. He said he couldn't wait until we were celebrating thirty five years inside of mere days, and that things were going to get better because we have everything together.

I didn't even realize I had started to cry. Jacob wiped the tears away with his hands on my face. And he smiled at me.

He pulled my chair out for me and then he sat down too and a server appeared from nowhere. We had a tiny champagne toast, then stuffed mushrooms. Then orange-glazed cornish hen. I'm not understanding how he pulls these things off. I wasn't a great dinner partner, practically stunned into silence by the decadence of this night. From the edges of my vision I could see couples walking on the boardwalk and stopping to watch and I had that ever-present feeling that always strikes me about life continuing all around me while mine stands perfectly still.

Then Jake stood up and came around the table and offered me his hand. More surprises. We walked up to the pavilion, where there were more tiny white lights everywhere and then I heard what he would have heard while we were still seated: the classical guitar player. Playing for us.

I think I died and went to heaven. We danced, under the lights, under the stars and the low no-longer-new moon. It was so cold. The music flowed from slow to slower, and then back a little and when I wasn't being twirled around I could rest my head on Jacob's chest. He held me against him with his hand on the small of my back, his other hand holding my hand firmly.

We didn't talk while we danced. We didn't have too. I'm learning to live in the moment. I can do this. Jacob already knows how to do this. I'm still learning, an eager student.

Just as the last strains drifted away he offered me his arm. We returned to our table, where Jacob cemented the proof that he knows me best. Warm chocolate cake and coffee. Because by now we were freezing and so we ate quickly.

We took the water route back, talking about nothing of importance to anyone outside of our reach. Promising each other that we were going to take all the sorrow and drive it back far behind us, and that we were going to reach out and seize the future and break off huge portions of it, to be consumed in our ravenous need to move ahead.

It's nice to write about a night where everything is good. It's even nicer to tell you that I am making arrangements to blow Jacob away. This night was for me, and now I want to plan one for him.

You fucking traitor.

Here's a story I'm not in the mood to share but hey, why not? And now with links for those who aren't up to speed.

The all-day bachelor party ended early, with some of the guys returning to the house around ten thirty. They were all positively wasted and so I sent two of them to the guest room, two to the living room and in between all that Jake crashed on the porch swing and I couldn't move him so I had to leave him there when I went to bed. Everyone was fast asleep when I locked up and shut off all the lights on my way upstairs. I think I fell asleep in seconds.

In my dream I was abruptly awakened.

I gasped when fingers were shoved inside me. Someone was kissing my neck, their weight making it hard to breathe. I tensed up my whole body because all I usually had to do was wait out Cole when he woke me up in the night seeking fulfillment.

As the fog of sleep cleared from my head I realized I was awake, for real. And that Cole is dead.

This was no dream. I couldn't even wrap my mind around what was happening.

It dawned on me that the man on top of me was clean-shaven, something I don't go for, neither Cole nor Jacob ever touch(ed) a razor unless it's a very special occasion.

I cried out and was surprised at a hand being cupped hard over my mouth and nose. I couldn't breathe. His voice spoke into my ear, loud enough because he knows me.

You don't want to wake everyone up, do you, princess?
Ben's voice. Slurring heavily.

Oh fuck Oh fuck Oh fuck Oh fuck.

He took his hand away and started to unbuckle his jeans and I screamed as loud as I could. I really don't care who I woke up at this point. He jumped up, staggering, and flung the door open just in time to face a crazed-looking Jacob with Robin and Chris right behind him, still half-drunk, they had no idea what the hell was going on. Jacob saw Ben and he knew instantly. He had warned me before.

Jacob charged into the room, grabbing Ben by the throat. Robin took me downstairs after I checked the kids. I told them I had a bad dream and held them for a long time. I couldn't hear Jacob, he was talking to Ben in a hushed angry whisper. Soon Ben came downstairs followed by Jacob and he didn't even try to leave. He just stood there. Jacob came over to me and put his arms around me and asked me if Ben had touched me and what he had done. I told Jake and he shook his head and kissed my cheek. He pulled back and smoothed my hair back behind my ears. So fucking grim. He told me he would be home in a bit and he and Ben left. Ben started to try to apologize to me but Jacob stopped him cold.

Don't you even SPEAK to my wife.

I sent Chris after them and Robin stayed and made some tea. I was alright, I just couldn't stop shaking. I kept staring at Robin, wondering if all guys are secretly monsters when given to weakness or if I'm crazy. Ben had been alone with me more than anyone else in the days following Cole's assault, when I was completely incapacitated and heavily medicated. Unless I'm unaware of any inappropriate behavior, he was trusted. Not anymore.

Robin brought the tea over and I jumped out of my skin when he put it down. He retreated quickly to the front room, probably reading my mind.

Jacob came back an hour later and sent Robin home in a cab. The full cup of tea was still sitting there, untouched. Kind of like me.

Jake gathered me up off the chair and just held me. So tight. So good.

This was my fault. I felt short on friends and I asked Jake to forgive Ben and let him come hang out again, because he's not a sick bastard, he's just misunderstood. Every word I said about him came back on a plate disguised as crow for me to consume and yet Jake hasn't once said I told you so.

Instead he prayed out loud to be in the right place at the right time to help me when I need it most instead of always being one moment too late. He prayed for my protection and my ease in life and for a safe environment in which I could thrive uninhibited without worrying about being hurt ever again. If it were up to him I would live in a turret and he would have the only key.

God is attempting to pay me back because I fucked around on Cole so I'm going to be punished repeatedly and Jacob's sentence is to always not be present. So I get the horror and he gets the guilt and together we're just trying to make it through one goddamned month without everything going horribly wrong.

He fell asleep last night cradling me in his arms like he does every night, only I don't think he really slept, I think he faked it so that I might fall asleep. I didn't even close my eyes. This after both of us yanking all the sheets off the bed in painful silence, remaking it out of necessity. The scalding shower did nothing to erase Ben's touch. Nothing.

This morning I asked him what happened to Ben after they left. Jacob just looked at me wearily, he didn't answer. Instead he offered to pour me some more coffee and then he said he would work from home today. He walked with us to the school and brought his laptop to the kitchen for the day, he hasn't been more than six feet away since.

Ben even sent me a text message at lunchtime telling me he was going to go to AA. What the fuck? Great, Ben. You go fucking improve yourself. Thanks for nothing.

And I know that I should press charges, I know I should be filing a report, I know what it was, and I can't bring myself to do anything. The simple fact that Ben has been here cheering on my progress, feeding my kids and being my friend has left me in worse shock than when Cole came after me, and whether Ben was drunk out of his mind or not, he took away one of the few comforts that I had worked so damn hard to rebuild and now I'm starting from scratch, again, with trust. I feel completely violated and so does Jacob. He's my husband. Someone else touched me. Now he know how it feels only worse, adding a whole new dimension to this relationship. If this isn't stacking all the odds against us I don't know what is.

I have nothing to say to just about everyone today. I was betrayed by a close friend who I have extended just about every generosity to that I have and he took advantage of me. I'm pissed off and in no condition to write because it comes out too violent, even for me.

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe later. I don't know.

Heydee.

If I wish very very hard, maybe all these leaves will blow right through our yard and into the neighbors. But it must be soon, for I have to mow. When I'm done running back and forth to the school that is, reveling in the whole elementary grade fuss that has taken our neighborhood into it's death grip, not to spit us out until the end of next June. This is a riot. I watch the clock constantly, waiting for the time when my shadow (Ruth) gets reattached, though shadowgirl has a miserable cold and was up all night long.

When I'm done mowing I'm going to drag the too-heavy recycling bin all the way to the end of the driveway, because I can't lift it.

Then I'll paint the steps, because I was supposed to do it in July and then Cole died and well, a lot of shit didn't get done.

This is why men were invented, folks, so that Bridget wouldn't have to flex her domestic muscles past folding laundry and cleaning floors.

But where are all the boys, you ask?

A bachelor party.

And what kind of bachelor party starts at lunch time on a Thursday?

One that is obviously going to be memorable. Or possibly dangerous. Not sure which but hey, they're having fun and that's something that there hasn't been a lot of this year.

Me? I have lots to keep me busy. I wasn't invited, despite offering to dance and everything. Hmmph.

Sex in a Carhartt coat.

In preparation for winter, I took Jacob coat-shopping after finding the best looking coat ever. A gorgeous spendy goose-down filled brand spanking new Carhartt coat with toggles and a hood. Why? Because he practically froze to death last year and I went so far as to offer him one of Cole's coats even. Cole offered him one again a day later. Because Jake had a threadbare jacket that will not cut a winter here on the flat miserable prairie. And with a truck as old as he is to drive he needs something he can walk or wait out a storm in.

He really needs a new truck too but I'll talk about that later.

Instead I dragged him out and put him in a Carhartt. Damn, he looked so fucking cute I threatened to rip off his clothes in the middle of the store. He loved it. He thought it was very expensive but relented when I put the finer points of him not being able to touch me for the first half hour after he comes home every day this coming winter because he's too damned cold.

He bought the coat. He'll finally be warm outdoors in the winter, and he won't furrow his brow and walk so fast no one else can keep up with him, as if they could with his long legs anyhow. Now if I can just get him to trade in the newsboy hat for something that keeps his ears warm he'll be all set, but instead he's growing out his hair. By spring it will be almost to his shoulders but Oh my god it's the most adorable thing ever. His gorgeous white blonde hair in his eyes, into his collar, wound around my fingers. Okay, I'll share the hair fetish.

Damn the mediocrity when I can find porn in a brand name jacket. No, bless the mediocrity. Blessed, indeed.

A brief sojorn.

I couldn't let today pass without an honorary mommy blog entry.

Today in the Reilly household, public school officially began.

I think I'm surviving it, though with Ruthie gone it feels as if my right arm or my shadow even has been torn off and taken away. Henry only went long enough to meet his teacher, choose a cubby for his things and get a tour of the nursery/kindergarten room. He starts on Friday. And boy, does he miss Ruth.

As soon as I stop crying I'll possibly be guiltily excited about the prospect of a couple of hours to myself in the mornings. Time to breath, time to not be distracted, time to do something for me, or even clean or paint some part of the house left untouched for an undistracted moment thus far.

The homeschooling didn't work. We gave it two grades and declared it a disaster, Cole and I deciding after Christmas that this just wasn't going to work anymore. I called the school, we had a tour, registered both kids and then the summer flew past in a flurry of agony and ecstasy and now here we are, (well Cole isn't here anymore though) loading backpacks and watching clocks already.

I can't wait for the academic fun to begin when they discover that Ruth was a Waldorf  homeschooler, which means the first three grades are all about art and music and housework and crafts and not so much reading, writing or forced group compliance. It will be interesting. We spent more time assembling nature tables than we ever did practicing writing.

At least she's a confident, secure child with the entire world in front of her, one giant spherical endless promise.

I really hope she likes school more than I ever did.

Night arrows.

I would really love to know exactly what it is that makes the nights so unbearably miserable. It's like when the sun goes down below the horizon it sucks all the light out of the world and the dark presses in, prepared to wreck everything that was built in the day.

I'm not even afraid of the dark. It is not afraid of me either, choosing to surround me and suffocate me in total blindness, refusing to relinquish me until the sun arrives with the alarm clock, racing over the opposite horizon in a quiet attempt at rescue.

Because the nightmares, my God. They're still here. They were here waiting for me while I chose to sleep drugged and dreamless, knowing that Jacob could and would get up with the kids because I wouldn't be able to if they needed me and I needed to sleep. And now that the drugs are gone the terrible nightmares have run screaming up to the threshold of my mind and they're breaking down the damn door.

I wake up screaming. Or sobbing. Or just plain scared shitless. Or wondering what ever the fuck could be this bad that my body won't just let me sleep, instead choosing to relive and invent and examine and beat every bad experience to death right in front of me.

Day four was awesome too.

At the zoo today they had baby monkeys, owls, lemurs and reindeer as the fresh additions to the usual attractions. Adorable. It was glorious, dusty and smelly and again, a fun day in the sun that left us more burned, more tired and more spent as a family than we have been thus far. It was a blast.

It's not lost on me that Jacob is seeking distractions to fill the time, and it's not lost on him that I need distractions. We have a long week in front of us-the kids start school, Ruth has a birthday and my old wedding anniversary is going to pass us by.

But it's okay, we're/I'm doing okay. I am. He is supportive and loving and patient. He understood what I was doing when I got rid of all those pills, oddly enough. He had been expecting it for some time. Everything is better, it's okay. Life off the meds is so much more liveable than life on the meds, stuck somewhere in an emotional wasteland. This is better. Normal average happiness and sadness reigns supreme. I'm taking deep breaths, loving hard and living large. And I'm only four days into full, sanctioned sobriety here. Woo for me.

And I swear I'm going to bed at 8 pm because I am completely worn out. I believe we have packed an entire summer's worth of fun into one single long weekend. Makes me happily anticipate the fall ahead of us, and the winter too. And everything else that lies in our future.