I took the picture down, thank you for the kind words, but it's easier to keep going if I don't have to look myself in the eye.
It's raining again, welcome this time after a round of tornado warnings and forty-degree nights had us escaping last evening to the suburbs to the McNally-Robinson store with the treehouse inside, for iced coffees and fresh reading materials. Summer reading for a summer that will hopefully allow for that kind of rest.
I'm convinced it won't, though so perhaps we'll just do our reading here on the porch while we pretend everything is fine when it isn't.
Go ahead and roll your eyes, you never got an engraved invitation to be here. Hell, I didn't get one either. It's a party I threw without a lick of planning or forethought.
I'm an enigma. Consistently looking for a way out of this world without affecting anyone and yet I go out of my way to live my life as excruciatingly as I can so I can feel it to pieces. All of it, good and bad. I don't want to be medicated. After the first two weeks I began to chew up the pills in my mouth and when no one was paying attention I'd pick the bits out of the backs of my teeth and rinse them down the sink. I'm not medicated any more than you are and I was caught.
Masochist. Yes. Yes I am.
And so I'm sipping my petulant bitter coffee this morning, flying on caffeine and savoring the tiniest of failure-victories. That seems to be the only kind I can produce right now.
Until we hit on something that works, well, none of it is going to work. My work suffers when I take pills and if I can't work then I don't want to bother with the rest of it. And yes I know if I hit a low and go running off looking for trains to fling myself into or blowtorches to set myself alight there won't be any work left to produce anyway.
I had to give new examples so Jacob doesn't nail the upstairs windows shut. Christ, he's already taken all the knives away and I've been reduced to asking for him to slice cucumbers for me when we're making dinner which demoralizes me to no end.
I never said I had it all figured out.
The idea that I could leave without affecting anyone is completely ridiculous.
Besides. what would everyone do all day?
He follows me when I run.
Which makes the medication issues pale significantly. Because I'm allowed to betray everyone but no one is allowed to betray me. It's been done and it's my turn to fall apart and no one else gets my spotlight.
I left the office, with Claus and Jacob sitting there with smug Rob (marriage guy) after Jacob unloaded all the stuff he keeps inside that I knew but I really didn't know after all and I turned and told him not to move and I left and walked for about six blocks before I realized I was going to ruin my shoes and I didn't need to be soaking wet when I was just getting over a cold and I hailed my very first taxi and took myself home.
Because I may not be able to trust myself but I'll take my chances, the other options aren't looking very solid right now. Jacob isn't looking very solid right now. Life isn't looking very solid right now. But I am holding on.
For once.
Friday, 8 June 2007
Surprises.
Jacob's going to get a big surprise when he gets home, because we have a visitor.
One of my neighbors asked me if I could watch her eight-month-old son, Gabe. Gabe is a handsome little guy with blonde hair and blue eyes and a very easy-going disposition and he was handed to me about fifteen minutes after Jacob left for downtown, this time to get the papers he didn't actually get when he ambushed me with the accompanied serenade on Monday. So I'm not entirely sure who's babysitting who right now and I'm not entirely sure what look will play across Jacob's face when he gets home that I maybe might not want to see but for now it's awfully nice to sit here and watch Gabe sleep through lunch, one fist curled around his ear.
He smells like heaven.
I will never have another baby.
Perhaps I can arrange to borrow him more often. I haven't been this relaxed in years.
One of my neighbors asked me if I could watch her eight-month-old son, Gabe. Gabe is a handsome little guy with blonde hair and blue eyes and a very easy-going disposition and he was handed to me about fifteen minutes after Jacob left for downtown, this time to get the papers he didn't actually get when he ambushed me with the accompanied serenade on Monday. So I'm not entirely sure who's babysitting who right now and I'm not entirely sure what look will play across Jacob's face when he gets home that I maybe might not want to see but for now it's awfully nice to sit here and watch Gabe sleep through lunch, one fist curled around his ear.
He smells like heaven.
I will never have another baby.
Perhaps I can arrange to borrow him more often. I haven't been this relaxed in years.
The well.
I have it.
It isn't a movie. It's a music video. Set to some loud, desperate power ballad, most likely in the pouring rain, an epic life or death struggle that ends well, if we're lucky.
That's my life. Fuck Christian's snowglobe or PJ's optimism and dogged reminders. Fuck Loch's midlife crisis. Fuck Jacob's faith and rejection of yestermorrow in favor of today. Fuck me already.
It's a four minute music video on a loop. Played over and over only the tape never wears out and no one ever gets tired because my god, listen to the emotion in the singer's voice, look at the fear and the love in his gorgeous eyes, watch the perfect girl that has his heart as she fleshes the song out visually so you know exactly how much he wants her and how she will always be his.
There is no reality here. I'm looking for the lights, the set, the script. I'd pay millions I don't even have to get a crack at that script to spoil my own ending.
And the stupid rain never stops.
The tears never stopped. I had another lovely multi-hour session with Claus and sometimes I really wonder when I'm going to stop crying. There's no end to the tears. They. just. keep. coming. and the music keeps playing in my head and we never have dry hair anymore or dry eyes, it's a metaphor. Maybe we should change the channel. I heard there's a comedy on the other one.
I hear we might see the sun this weekend. That would be nice because after a while, it isn't just snow that drives people mad. It's life. Life without tools to help you live it. Tools I can't seem to hold in my little hands long enough to learn how to use them.
But they gave me a film canister and I opened it up and words spilled out and this is what it said.
Exactly. Absolutely nothing.
September sun glowing golden hair
Now keep in mind son she was never there
OctoberÃs rust bisecting black storm clouds
Only the deaf hear my silent shouts
It isn't a movie. It's a music video. Set to some loud, desperate power ballad, most likely in the pouring rain, an epic life or death struggle that ends well, if we're lucky.
That's my life. Fuck Christian's snowglobe or PJ's optimism and dogged reminders. Fuck Loch's midlife crisis. Fuck Jacob's faith and rejection of yestermorrow in favor of today. Fuck me already.
It's a four minute music video on a loop. Played over and over only the tape never wears out and no one ever gets tired because my god, listen to the emotion in the singer's voice, look at the fear and the love in his gorgeous eyes, watch the perfect girl that has his heart as she fleshes the song out visually so you know exactly how much he wants her and how she will always be his.
There is no reality here. I'm looking for the lights, the set, the script. I'd pay millions I don't even have to get a crack at that script to spoil my own ending.
And the stupid rain never stops.
The tears never stopped. I had another lovely multi-hour session with Claus and sometimes I really wonder when I'm going to stop crying. There's no end to the tears. They. just. keep. coming. and the music keeps playing in my head and we never have dry hair anymore or dry eyes, it's a metaphor. Maybe we should change the channel. I heard there's a comedy on the other one.
I hear we might see the sun this weekend. That would be nice because after a while, it isn't just snow that drives people mad. It's life. Life without tools to help you live it. Tools I can't seem to hold in my little hands long enough to learn how to use them.
But they gave me a film canister and I opened it up and words spilled out and this is what it said.
Exactly. Absolutely nothing.
September sun glowing golden hair
Now keep in mind son she was never there
OctoberÃs rust bisecting black storm clouds
Only the deaf hear my silent shouts
Thursday, 7 June 2007
Please just collect them.
The abject comparisons. I can't take them anymore. Take with it the reciprocal altruism, if you would. I know what it means. I know that it's real and it's waiting for me and that's why I can't move.
Once upon a time in a rare and fleeting show of confidence I could bring Cole to a standstill with my contempt for his cataclysmic lack of demonstrative emotional skills.
He would cave, he would fall apart trying to make me talk to him when he crossed a verbal line. He was never sorry for his physical missteps but he watched his words. He hated my disparagement of myself. He hated when I shut him out, he would joke and chide and try to draw me out, almost as if he wanted me to forgive him on the spot or he'd die miserably.
Ironic. Both the emotional eruptions and his death even. It still reels me right out over a ledge.
I never gave him the silent treatment. I would just process whatever he said and just think about it. I go quiet. I learned a lifetime ago not to beat things to death verbally and now it's something I do every day. More comparisons in living with night and day, moon and sun, dark and now light. Jacob likes to put words on everything. He draws me back out agonizingly to talk even though sometimes we leave it. Cole would go insane leaving it. Jacob has more patience and more confidence in his relationship with me. Something he never had until Cole was gone. Cole was his shadow in love and his rival in life. It's as freeing for him as it is for me to be out from under that intense scrutiny.
Emerging as the winner in a close race is my one private, final question for Cole. One question I asked him constantly and never got an answer to, one bit of closure and peace of mind he took with him to the grave in a rare show of secrecy that leaves me devastated forever. Simply devastated.
He never once gave me an answer. Jacob, with his heart in my hands will run out of breath giving me answers, epic ones, silly ones. The moon will rise and our eyes will grow so heavy and he'll be slurring reasons as he falls into sleep but I know when he wakes up he'll have thought of more ways.
Life is day from night. Light years and lifetimes different from before. Beautiful. Loving, so loving and passionate and overwhelming compared to before and so why would I keep this particular question in my heart? Why did it become more important than maybe asking why he had to be so quietly cruel?
Maybe because he answered that one, with laughter and spite. Otherwise, whatever answers he knew, he kept to himself. Maybe because he didn't know why. Because I was there. Because I loved him enough for both of us, maybe he didn't understand how that worked. He always came back to me even when he hated me, when there were better girls, when he had more fun without me.
Somehow my love was enough to spread across many hearts. So one would remain in the dark and the other would grow toward the light, eventually becoming too tired to hang on anymore and dropping the other heart down down into the black spiral that wouldn't let go of him long enough to give him to me, or long enough to give me that answer. It was the only thing I ever wanted from him and it would have made all the difference in the world.
Once upon a time in a rare and fleeting show of confidence I could bring Cole to a standstill with my contempt for his cataclysmic lack of demonstrative emotional skills.
He would cave, he would fall apart trying to make me talk to him when he crossed a verbal line. He was never sorry for his physical missteps but he watched his words. He hated my disparagement of myself. He hated when I shut him out, he would joke and chide and try to draw me out, almost as if he wanted me to forgive him on the spot or he'd die miserably.
Ironic. Both the emotional eruptions and his death even. It still reels me right out over a ledge.
I never gave him the silent treatment. I would just process whatever he said and just think about it. I go quiet. I learned a lifetime ago not to beat things to death verbally and now it's something I do every day. More comparisons in living with night and day, moon and sun, dark and now light. Jacob likes to put words on everything. He draws me back out agonizingly to talk even though sometimes we leave it. Cole would go insane leaving it. Jacob has more patience and more confidence in his relationship with me. Something he never had until Cole was gone. Cole was his shadow in love and his rival in life. It's as freeing for him as it is for me to be out from under that intense scrutiny.
Emerging as the winner in a close race is my one private, final question for Cole. One question I asked him constantly and never got an answer to, one bit of closure and peace of mind he took with him to the grave in a rare show of secrecy that leaves me devastated forever. Simply devastated.
He never once gave me an answer. Jacob, with his heart in my hands will run out of breath giving me answers, epic ones, silly ones. The moon will rise and our eyes will grow so heavy and he'll be slurring reasons as he falls into sleep but I know when he wakes up he'll have thought of more ways.
Life is day from night. Light years and lifetimes different from before. Beautiful. Loving, so loving and passionate and overwhelming compared to before and so why would I keep this particular question in my heart? Why did it become more important than maybe asking why he had to be so quietly cruel?
Maybe because he answered that one, with laughter and spite. Otherwise, whatever answers he knew, he kept to himself. Maybe because he didn't know why. Because I was there. Because I loved him enough for both of us, maybe he didn't understand how that worked. He always came back to me even when he hated me, when there were better girls, when he had more fun without me.
Somehow my love was enough to spread across many hearts. So one would remain in the dark and the other would grow toward the light, eventually becoming too tired to hang on anymore and dropping the other heart down down into the black spiral that wouldn't let go of him long enough to give him to me, or long enough to give me that answer. It was the only thing I ever wanted from him and it would have made all the difference in the world.
Breaking Jake.
Jacob believes in evil. Which isn't a stretch of his imagination, he's a minister. He has seen things and he knows things that humble him, that break life down into basics, and importants and the rest is just gravy, fluff and distractions. He believes in the devil, not as Satan but as evil inside all of us, or more simply, the absence of good.
Oh, and he's a lightweight. This morning he picked Breaking Benjamin for his breakfast-making karaoke in the kitchen and what floors me is how he knows all the words, he can't get through the song. I've been listening to him try and he can't, his voice keeps breaking and so he stops and puts it on again. He's not going to let a few words best him, not when they're lodged firmly in his head. I love that he can't do it, I can't explain it. I love that his faith brings him to his very knees.
Here I stand, helpless and left for dead
Close your eyes, so many days go by
Easy to find what's wrong
Harder to find what's right
I believe in you
I can show you that I can see right through
All your empty lies, I won't stay long
In this world so wrong
Say goodbye,
As we dance with the devil tonight
Don't you dare look at him in the eye
As we dance with the devil tonight
Trembling, crawling across my skin
Feeling your cold, dead eyes
Stealing the life of mine
I believe in you
I can show you that I can see right through
All your empty lies, I won't last long
In this world so wrong
Say goodbye,
As we dance with the devil tonight
Don't you dare look at him in the eye
As we dance with the devil tonight
Hold on
Hold on
Oh, and he's a lightweight. This morning he picked Breaking Benjamin for his breakfast-making karaoke in the kitchen and what floors me is how he knows all the words, he can't get through the song. I've been listening to him try and he can't, his voice keeps breaking and so he stops and puts it on again. He's not going to let a few words best him, not when they're lodged firmly in his head. I love that he can't do it, I can't explain it. I love that his faith brings him to his very knees.
Here I stand, helpless and left for dead
Close your eyes, so many days go by
Easy to find what's wrong
Harder to find what's right
I believe in you
I can show you that I can see right through
All your empty lies, I won't stay long
In this world so wrong
Say goodbye,
As we dance with the devil tonight
Don't you dare look at him in the eye
As we dance with the devil tonight
Trembling, crawling across my skin
Feeling your cold, dead eyes
Stealing the life of mine
I believe in you
I can show you that I can see right through
All your empty lies, I won't last long
In this world so wrong
Say goodbye,
As we dance with the devil tonight
Don't you dare look at him in the eye
As we dance with the devil tonight
Hold on
Hold on
Wednesday, 6 June 2007
Joel's been fired! YES! The last thing I ever want in my life is any more decaf with that guy. I'd rather gouge my eyes out with a dull spoon and eat them for lunch. It's been a miserable three weeks.
Seeing Claus is enough. Claus is terrific. Maybe moreso now that he stopped tiptoeing around and brought out the heavy meds. Apparently you have to be two steps away from the edge of the roof before people take you seriously. I don't fault him. I have a gift for deception and he mostly sees through it. It's taken almost a year but I have liked him from the get-go. I wish he wasn't retiring.
I wish I didn't need help.
Seeing Claus is enough. Claus is terrific. Maybe moreso now that he stopped tiptoeing around and brought out the heavy meds. Apparently you have to be two steps away from the edge of the roof before people take you seriously. I don't fault him. I have a gift for deception and he mostly sees through it. It's taken almost a year but I have liked him from the get-go. I wish he wasn't retiring.
I wish I didn't need help.
You'll thank me later.
I found my brain, it had been poked full of holes and kicked into the corner. Weee. A lobotomy. Just what I've always wished for. And Jacob found his little wife and pulled her hands off the doorframe where her nails had dug in and forced her to drive downtown with him to attend her stupid session.
Today Joel wanted blood and instead I gave him tears. I went nowhere with anything. I sat in the chair and just held on to my stupid coffee cup for dear life and tried to tune him out. Jacob wasn't there, Claus wasn't there and I didn't want to be there. Every time he asked me to look at him it was as if I was seeing him through a window sheeted in rain and it was miserable and it didn't matter which direction he tried to take me in, I couldn't seem to go and so he stopped it early. He talked about his divorce. He's trying to make me trust him and I don't.
I don't trust anyone, for the record. Absolutely no one.
I came home and there was a message on the machine from Caleb to say hello to the kids and politely pretend that all is still well between everyone. The new neighbors left a bottle of wine on our back step, they make their own and they don't know us well yet and so I brought it inside and Jacob said it looked like it was shaping up to be a long day.
I hope not. But I have such a headache. It must be from the lobotomy.
Today Joel wanted blood and instead I gave him tears. I went nowhere with anything. I sat in the chair and just held on to my stupid coffee cup for dear life and tried to tune him out. Jacob wasn't there, Claus wasn't there and I didn't want to be there. Every time he asked me to look at him it was as if I was seeing him through a window sheeted in rain and it was miserable and it didn't matter which direction he tried to take me in, I couldn't seem to go and so he stopped it early. He talked about his divorce. He's trying to make me trust him and I don't.
I don't trust anyone, for the record. Absolutely no one.
I came home and there was a message on the machine from Caleb to say hello to the kids and politely pretend that all is still well between everyone. The new neighbors left a bottle of wine on our back step, they make their own and they don't know us well yet and so I brought it inside and Jacob said it looked like it was shaping up to be a long day.
I hope not. But I have such a headache. It must be from the lobotomy.
And if there's something wrong
Who would have guessed it
And I have left alone
Everything that I own
To make you feel like
It's not too late
It's never too late
Even if I say
It'll be alright
If I type really quietly maybe he won't find me in time to go to to counseling. I'd really rather not go.
Don'twanttogodon'twanttogo.
FUCK.
Who would have guessed it
And I have left alone
Everything that I own
To make you feel like
It's not too late
It's never too late
Even if I say
It'll be alright
If I type really quietly maybe he won't find me in time to go to to counseling. I'd really rather not go.
Don'twanttogodon'twanttogo.
FUCK.
Tuesday, 5 June 2007
Ruthless thirst.
You let me violate you.
You let me desecrate you.
You let me penetrate you.
You let me complicate you.
Payback for Jacob's serenade waltz wasn't nearly so highbrow, because I'm not like that. I gave him what I have, I gave him what he wants. I put Closer on the stereo and he knew I was coming from three rooms away, late last night, circa eleven or so. I should have been in bed but I wanted him so bad everything hurt. Not a safe place for me to be.
He was so excited he met me at the door.
The fleeting realization that my nemesis, the chair with wheels was eventually repaired and is still being used because we haven't bothered to shop for a new one fluttered through my head. It would have to do.
It didn't do.
I didn't wear the cowboy hat either. I stuck to tried and true sweet lingerie because that's what Jacob likes best, things he buys for me.
He smiled at me.
I bit my lip.
And I got no chance to remember my lap dance, no chance to grind out on him, no chance to tease, as he simply took me by the wrists and pushed me down to the floor. And the song turned to mush in my head and my bracelet was broken and my hair pulled and oh God my head banged so hard on the floor at one point I had stars to keep me company while I tried to pick his apologies and kisses out of thin air. Because I don't like gentle sometimes, and the stars went well with the loud music and his relentless assault, his fingers in my ears and his thumbs in my mouth and his voice in my ear as he said things that made me smile, as he cried out more than once.
It sent me so far over the edge I was still falling when I woke up this morning. Everything is on fire. He is the perfect match, he just likes to pretend I'm not going to get away with anything, because he takes it first.
Which pretty much means payback was less something I could control. I have no concept of control. And he has more than just a romantic bent to him, a twist I won't even name but it's just dark enough to make Bridget so happy.
And we like it that way.
Today I have to add the errand of dropping my bracelet off to be fixed and Jacob has been struggling all morning to remember his name and wipe the smile off his face. So far he's been successful with neither.
It's okay, though. I can't find my brain.
You let me desecrate you.
You let me penetrate you.
You let me complicate you.
Payback for Jacob's serenade waltz wasn't nearly so highbrow, because I'm not like that. I gave him what I have, I gave him what he wants. I put Closer on the stereo and he knew I was coming from three rooms away, late last night, circa eleven or so. I should have been in bed but I wanted him so bad everything hurt. Not a safe place for me to be.
He was so excited he met me at the door.
The fleeting realization that my nemesis, the chair with wheels was eventually repaired and is still being used because we haven't bothered to shop for a new one fluttered through my head. It would have to do.
It didn't do.
I didn't wear the cowboy hat either. I stuck to tried and true sweet lingerie because that's what Jacob likes best, things he buys for me.
He smiled at me.
I bit my lip.
And I got no chance to remember my lap dance, no chance to grind out on him, no chance to tease, as he simply took me by the wrists and pushed me down to the floor. And the song turned to mush in my head and my bracelet was broken and my hair pulled and oh God my head banged so hard on the floor at one point I had stars to keep me company while I tried to pick his apologies and kisses out of thin air. Because I don't like gentle sometimes, and the stars went well with the loud music and his relentless assault, his fingers in my ears and his thumbs in my mouth and his voice in my ear as he said things that made me smile, as he cried out more than once.
It sent me so far over the edge I was still falling when I woke up this morning. Everything is on fire. He is the perfect match, he just likes to pretend I'm not going to get away with anything, because he takes it first.
Which pretty much means payback was less something I could control. I have no concept of control. And he has more than just a romantic bent to him, a twist I won't even name but it's just dark enough to make Bridget so happy.
And we like it that way.
Today I have to add the errand of dropping my bracelet off to be fixed and Jacob has been struggling all morning to remember his name and wipe the smile off his face. So far he's been successful with neither.
It's okay, though. I can't find my brain.
Monday, 4 June 2007
Best Monday.
Sorry for the lateness of today's entry, I'm having a hard time putting this sort of morning into words because I'm speechless again and it's all Jacob's fault. But oh, do I feel it, the love that he holds for me.
Remember how I told you he is good at planning things right under my nose?
Remember how I said he told me he wanted our life together to be unforgettable?
Remember how much I said I dreaded Mondays (and Wednesdays and Fridays and most days that end in Y) because I find therapy difficult, Joel difficult and the neverending quest for mediocrity completely unreachable?
I didn't tell you how deeply offended Jacob gets when I seek out 'boring' and 'average'. That's the last thing he wants and he's taken those wishes of mine and worn them personally as insults.
And while he wore them he planned the next phase in his quest to keep his King of Romance crown. Because the last thing we're going to have is a boring, average marriage. I think he missed the point of my wish but that's okay.
It's more than okay.
You're SO not ready for this. I wasn't ready. Hell, I'm still not ready.
This morning I endured therapy, after a promise offered from Jacob that if I wore my prettiest summer dress he would take me out for breakfast afterward. I endured Joel and his false cheer and his professional overt familiarity and his stupid imported decaf and his awful habit of addressing Jacob when I'm sitting right there and so I attempted repeatedly to just ignore Joel and talked to Claus instead, as if Joel wasn't even in the room. I was quickly found out and suitably chided for my usual obstructions of justice. Same old same old. Let's just fast forward to when I could leave, stripped raw for yet another morning. Stick a fork in her, she's done.
While we were on our way to our late breakfast Jacob said he had a quick errand at one of the hotels, someone had left a package for him from one of the university conferences held there on the weekend. He said it might take a few minutes to track it down and I should come in and I can wander a bit in the shops in the lobby so I don't have to sit outside and breathe exhaust fumes (translation: I don't leave you alone anymore, ever. Which is okay, I was happy to keep him company).
Okay.
He poked around a bit, I suggested twice that he just go to the reception desk and ask, but he winked at me and went and poked his head in the piano bar that this hotel is famous for.
Oh, yeah, here it is. Just a minute, Bridge.
I turned to study some pretty blown glass in a window and then I heard him again,
Hey, princess, can you come in here for a second? I want you to see something.
Sure.
I followed him into the bar. It was empty, save for four people in the corner with instruments, I registered a drum kit, piano, saxophone, guitar. They nodded and smiled politely and I smiled in return.
Jake! There's a band practicing. Maybe we shouldn't be in here.
They're here for us, princess.
They started playing and Jacob asked for my hand and then I noticed the song was familiar. I was just about to tell him I knew it was Billy Joel when he started to sing.
Because this extraordinary man doesn't have a lick of self-consciousness in him, I didn't miss a word. He sings beautifully, nice and loud. He should have been a rock star.
Don't go changing, to try and please me,
You never let me down before,
Don't imagine you're too familiar,
And I don't see you anymore.
I would not leave you in times of trouble,
We never could have come this far,
I took the good times, I'll take the bad times,
I'll take you just the way you are.
Don't go trying some new fashion,
Don't change the colour of your hair,
You always have my unspoken passion,
Although I might not seem to care.
I don't want clever conversation,
I never want to work that hard,
I just want someone that I can talk to,
I want you just the way you are.
I need to know that you will always be
The same old someone that I knew,
What will it take till you believe in me,
The way that I believe in you?
I said I love you, and that's forever,
And this I promise from the heart,
I couldn't love you any better,
I love you just the way you are.
I don't want clever conversation,
I never want to work that hard,
I just want someone that I can talk to,
I want you just the way you are.
The absence of any self-consciousness failed to prevent his voice breaking on the very last two lines and so he whisper-sang them again, which I have come to love more than anything in the world and we stopped and shared a long, very sweet kiss before turning to applaud the band who bowed and then politely clapped for us.
We wound up doing bagels on the run, as we ran out of time and had to head back to pick up the children for lunch. I, of course, had the crow-flavored bagel, bested once again by Jacob, who puts my petulance in perspective against the Big Picture with his gentle demonstrations of how much he loves me and how much faith he has in us.
I think any doubts I had remaining got carried away this morning on the lilting notes of the saxophone. That or they simply vanished into thin air when I slid my hands down until they rested on Jacob's marble biceps and I rested my head against his chest so that I could feel his voice, being oh so careful not to disrupt his heart, which beats on his sleeve for me and is the strongest, most delicate work of art ever made by God. Completely unprotected and yet completely safe, like his iron wings. We're a study in contrasts and he's asking for so little and I make it so complicated. That stops here.
I just want someone that I can talk to,
I want you just the way you are.
Now please don't pinch me, I'm keeping this feeling.
Keeping it.
Forever.
Remember how I told you he is good at planning things right under my nose?
Remember how I said he told me he wanted our life together to be unforgettable?
Remember how much I said I dreaded Mondays (and Wednesdays and Fridays and most days that end in Y) because I find therapy difficult, Joel difficult and the neverending quest for mediocrity completely unreachable?
I didn't tell you how deeply offended Jacob gets when I seek out 'boring' and 'average'. That's the last thing he wants and he's taken those wishes of mine and worn them personally as insults.
And while he wore them he planned the next phase in his quest to keep his King of Romance crown. Because the last thing we're going to have is a boring, average marriage. I think he missed the point of my wish but that's okay.
It's more than okay.
You're SO not ready for this. I wasn't ready. Hell, I'm still not ready.
This morning I endured therapy, after a promise offered from Jacob that if I wore my prettiest summer dress he would take me out for breakfast afterward. I endured Joel and his false cheer and his professional overt familiarity and his stupid imported decaf and his awful habit of addressing Jacob when I'm sitting right there and so I attempted repeatedly to just ignore Joel and talked to Claus instead, as if Joel wasn't even in the room. I was quickly found out and suitably chided for my usual obstructions of justice. Same old same old. Let's just fast forward to when I could leave, stripped raw for yet another morning. Stick a fork in her, she's done.
While we were on our way to our late breakfast Jacob said he had a quick errand at one of the hotels, someone had left a package for him from one of the university conferences held there on the weekend. He said it might take a few minutes to track it down and I should come in and I can wander a bit in the shops in the lobby so I don't have to sit outside and breathe exhaust fumes (translation: I don't leave you alone anymore, ever. Which is okay, I was happy to keep him company).
Okay.
He poked around a bit, I suggested twice that he just go to the reception desk and ask, but he winked at me and went and poked his head in the piano bar that this hotel is famous for.
Oh, yeah, here it is. Just a minute, Bridge.
I turned to study some pretty blown glass in a window and then I heard him again,
Hey, princess, can you come in here for a second? I want you to see something.
Sure.
I followed him into the bar. It was empty, save for four people in the corner with instruments, I registered a drum kit, piano, saxophone, guitar. They nodded and smiled politely and I smiled in return.
Jake! There's a band practicing. Maybe we shouldn't be in here.
They're here for us, princess.
They started playing and Jacob asked for my hand and then I noticed the song was familiar. I was just about to tell him I knew it was Billy Joel when he started to sing.
Because this extraordinary man doesn't have a lick of self-consciousness in him, I didn't miss a word. He sings beautifully, nice and loud. He should have been a rock star.
Don't go changing, to try and please me,
You never let me down before,
Don't imagine you're too familiar,
And I don't see you anymore.
I would not leave you in times of trouble,
We never could have come this far,
I took the good times, I'll take the bad times,
I'll take you just the way you are.
Don't go trying some new fashion,
Don't change the colour of your hair,
You always have my unspoken passion,
Although I might not seem to care.
I don't want clever conversation,
I never want to work that hard,
I just want someone that I can talk to,
I want you just the way you are.
I need to know that you will always be
The same old someone that I knew,
What will it take till you believe in me,
The way that I believe in you?
I said I love you, and that's forever,
And this I promise from the heart,
I couldn't love you any better,
I love you just the way you are.
I don't want clever conversation,
I never want to work that hard,
I just want someone that I can talk to,
I want you just the way you are.
The absence of any self-consciousness failed to prevent his voice breaking on the very last two lines and so he whisper-sang them again, which I have come to love more than anything in the world and we stopped and shared a long, very sweet kiss before turning to applaud the band who bowed and then politely clapped for us.
We wound up doing bagels on the run, as we ran out of time and had to head back to pick up the children for lunch. I, of course, had the crow-flavored bagel, bested once again by Jacob, who puts my petulance in perspective against the Big Picture with his gentle demonstrations of how much he loves me and how much faith he has in us.
I think any doubts I had remaining got carried away this morning on the lilting notes of the saxophone. That or they simply vanished into thin air when I slid my hands down until they rested on Jacob's marble biceps and I rested my head against his chest so that I could feel his voice, being oh so careful not to disrupt his heart, which beats on his sleeve for me and is the strongest, most delicate work of art ever made by God. Completely unprotected and yet completely safe, like his iron wings. We're a study in contrasts and he's asking for so little and I make it so complicated. That stops here.
I just want someone that I can talk to,
I want you just the way you are.
Now please don't pinch me, I'm keeping this feeling.
Keeping it.
Forever.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)