The yearly shoe post.

Things are better today. We're settling back into a familiar rhythm and Ben seems a lot happier. Bridget does too. I need to work on making sure I make myself heard when I need to be heard. Did you know that sometimes I can be submissive and not say so much? It's true. I'll add it to the list of improvements I need to make. Right up there with stop crying so much and get over this sick and debilitating addiction to chocolate cake.

And shoes. I like shoes. At least I like these shoes. A whole heck of a lot. I chased these shoes down on the internet two years ago and then gave up when I couldn't get them shipped to Canada and didn't want to pay $150 for them only to have them not fit or something insidious like that.

And look what showed up on Ebay two years later. $10 shoes, $6 shipped. God bless the internet.They fit perfectly. I might never take them off. I've already named the angels too. Bet you can't guess who is who.

The yearly shoe post.

Things are better today. We're settling back into a familiar rhythm and Ben seems a lot happier. Bridget does too. I need to work on making sure I make myself heard when I need to be heard. Did you know that sometimes I can be submissive and not say so much? It's true. I'll add it to the list of improvements I need to make. Right up there with stop crying so much and get over this sick and debilitating addiction to chocolate cake.

And shoes. I like shoes. At least I like these shoes. A whole heck of a lot. I chased these shoes down on the internet two years ago and then gave up when I couldn't get them shipped to Canada and didn't want to pay $150 for them only to have them not fit or something insidious like that.

And look what showed up on Ebay two years later. $10 shoes, $6 shipped. God bless the internet.They fit perfectly. I might never take them off. I've already named the angels too. Bet you can't guess who is who.

Sam, once again, wants me to say how I really feel.

I think there has been more accomplished in this house in a single morning than the previous six months. I have had a run, semi-participated in an early-morning family meeting and then was visibly neglected as the boys continue their bromance for the ages here, which is usually something that happens on a smaller scale, after tours and over motorcycles and barbecues and oh yeah, matters of life and death.

I love that word, bromance. It's just so...appropriate lately.

Trust me, I'm thrilled they're all getting along and everyone is attempting to help make our lives easier and Ben's days smooth and seamless and un-trying and Bridget's head in control and all that wonderful stuff they usually do, just on a much larger scale. Right now it's nice to be needed. It's nice to help him help himself. It's so beyond awesome that he is home again because I need him here.

Because I'm selfish.

What isn't nice is trying to shut up the little voice inside my head that really wants to be the centre of attention.

What is nice is that I see it for what it is and I'm not giving it a voice today.

I do try. I really do. I try hard to be a good person and a good wife and a good friend. So that voice will stay deep inside and hopefully when I'm not looking it will just go away completely.

Like other feelings do. Right Lochlan?

(Oh, bitchy. There's a feeling that needs to go too.)

Sorry there isn't more today, everything is just weird and uncomfortable today. There are too many people here and I'm tired and I just don't do well in these kinds of days. Come back tomorrow, okay?

Sam, once again, wants me to say how I really feel.

I think there has been more accomplished in this house in a single morning than the previous six months. I have had a run, semi-participated in an early-morning family meeting and then was visibly neglected as the boys continue their bromance for the ages here, which is usually something that happens on a smaller scale, after tours and over motorcycles and barbecues and oh yeah, matters of life and death.

I love that word, bromance. It's just so...appropriate lately.

Trust me, I'm thrilled they're all getting along and everyone is attempting to help make our lives easier and Ben's days smooth and seamless and un-trying and Bridget's head in control and all that wonderful stuff they usually do, just on a much larger scale. Right now it's nice to be needed. It's nice to help him help himself. It's so beyond awesome that he is home again because I need him here.

Because I'm selfish.

What isn't nice is trying to shut up the little voice inside my head that really wants to be the centre of attention.

What is nice is that I see it for what it is and I'm not giving it a voice today.

I do try. I really do. I try hard to be a good person and a good wife and a good friend. So that voice will stay deep inside and hopefully when I'm not looking it will just go away completely.

Like other feelings do. Right Lochlan?

(Oh, bitchy. There's a feeling that needs to go too.)

Sorry there isn't more today, everything is just weird and uncomfortable today. There are too many people here and I'm tired and I just don't do well in these kinds of days. Come back tomorrow, okay?

Angels and buttercream.

Flickering between the lines.
Stolen moments floating softly on the air,
Borne on wings of fire and climbing higher.

Ancient bonds are breaking,
Moving on and changing sides.
Dreaming of a new day,
Cast aside the other way.

Angels and buttercream. That's what Ben said I smelled like when I threw myself into his arms last Tuesday, and that's what he said again Friday night when I repeated that hug after leaving in a hurry Thursday night, thanks to Lochlan attempting a predictable strong-arm against our freedoms, thanks to those promises carved into stone made by the guys, thanks to Cole. Thanks to Jake, who flew away, and thanks to Ben himself, who couldn't quite get and keep himself under control.

I won't be hurt. The kids and I are to be safe no matter what.

And we tried everything and when everything still wasn't enough, Ben went away for a little while. He went to detoxify himself from the drugs and alcohol and re-learn how to exist without needing it.

He went to rehab, okay? What most people would call a nice cushy kind-of resort high up in the mountains, he calls the hardest work of his life, where he had to learn to be open and transparent and where he learned new ways to cope and new ways to behave and a whole new set of methods on dealing with people and situations who would have formerly driven him to take a drink or make a line and check himself right out of reality.

It's been difficult, to put it mildly and for those who came here over the last month to read and found nothing to see might want to understand how hard it has been. I didn't want him to go, I would have kept him fucked up and difficult. They made him go, because I don't make my own decisions and Ben doesn't either. She won't be hurt by you, they told him and he went because I promised I wouldn't give my heart away while he was gone. And I didn't. I gave away all kinds of things but I kept my heart. I kept it for Ben because it belongs to Ben.

Five weeks was a long time for a girl who loves as hard as I do, affection-whoreish, heart-on-sleeve, fluttery and unable to make decisions and choices past who I want a hug from at any particular moment. And finally the week that families can come and join into the work and the rewards arrived and I was a mess, frankly.

I got that first hug from Benjamin and then I went to bits and Duncan agreed to come down and keep watch so I could sleep and he brought Corey (Say hi to the internet, Corey!) but then Lochlan gave them the sky-race of their lives, beating them to me and telling me Ben was never going to be trusted or worthy or just about anything else.

Or so I thought I heard, because that's mostly what he ever says. So I told him I needed a walk to clear my head and I kissed Ben goodbye and told him I needed some sleep and then I took my sorry, misinterpreted ass to the airport and came home.

And shit, I got it wrong. Lochlan isn't Caleb. There's no evil there. Only concern. Valid and long-suffering concern and Jesus, nail her to the goddamned floor so she'll listen, wouldja?

Ten hours later, I went back and we sorted all of it out and all the guys present, namely Daniel and Lochlan and Duncan and Corey and August and the kids and I and yes, even Ben, got to sort through the mess we have made of our collective, tangled existence and we made our plans for the present and even a tiny little bit into the future.

It doesn't involve Lochlan.

Except as a friend and a support-pillar sometimes but otherwise we've kicked out one side of the triangle and now we're just a dot again. A super-imposed, melted-together oneness of being and things are going to stay this way.

Bridget and Ben versus the world.

Ben really did well. The interesting part is he didn't need that much of a push to get himself back where he needed to be but he brought home more than he's giving up. He managed to get back around and find the handle he used to have on life. The weirdly quiet and stoic and vaguely crazy, funny, beautiful man who promised to love me in sickness and utter depravity (actual words from our wedding) returned and I'm so happy I could cry.

True to form there is cake, and all the guys are here to welcome him home to his life and he's not going to get a chance to try and fuck it up again and he no longer wants to but for now everything is going to be second by moment by hour by day and nothing more.

Only it's everything more.

He's home. Home with his family and we get one more chance at getting this right.

It's important. If you pray, say a prayer that he continues to do as well as he has so far, and say one that my strength holds because he feels better when I feel stronger and I feel stronger when he feels better and it's a vicious cycle I'd be thrilled to get stuck in forever.

Home. One of those good four-letter words. Ben is home.

Happy first anniversary, Benjamin. I love you.

Angels and buttercream.

Flickering between the lines.
Stolen moments floating softly on the air,
Borne on wings of fire and climbing higher.

Ancient bonds are breaking,
Moving on and changing sides.
Dreaming of a new day,
Cast aside the other way.

Angels and buttercream. That's what Ben said I smelled like when I threw myself into his arms last Tuesday, and that's what he said again Friday night when I repeated that hug after leaving in a hurry Thursday night, thanks to Lochlan attempting a predictable strong-arm against our freedoms, thanks to those promises carved into stone made by the guys, thanks to Cole. Thanks to Jake, who flew away, and thanks to Ben himself, who couldn't quite get and keep himself under control.

I won't be hurt. The kids and I are to be safe no matter what.

And we tried everything and when everything still wasn't enough, Ben went away for a little while. He went to detoxify himself from the drugs and alcohol and re-learn how to exist without needing it.

He went to rehab, okay? What most people would call a nice cushy kind-of resort high up in the mountains, he calls the hardest work of his life, where he had to learn to be open and transparent and where he learned new ways to cope and new ways to behave and a whole new set of methods on dealing with people and situations who would have formerly driven him to take a drink or make a line and check himself right out of reality.

It's been difficult, to put it mildly and for those who came here over the last month to read and found nothing to see might want to understand how hard it has been. I didn't want him to go, I would have kept him fucked up and difficult. They made him go, because I don't make my own decisions and Ben doesn't either. She won't be hurt by you, they told him and he went because I promised I wouldn't give my heart away while he was gone. And I didn't. I gave away all kinds of things but I kept my heart. I kept it for Ben because it belongs to Ben.

Five weeks was a long time for a girl who loves as hard as I do, affection-whoreish, heart-on-sleeve, fluttery and unable to make decisions and choices past who I want a hug from at any particular moment. And finally the week that families can come and join into the work and the rewards arrived and I was a mess, frankly.

I got that first hug from Benjamin and then I went to bits and Duncan agreed to come down and keep watch so I could sleep and he brought Corey (Say hi to the internet, Corey!) but then Lochlan gave them the sky-race of their lives, beating them to me and telling me Ben was never going to be trusted or worthy or just about anything else.

Or so I thought I heard, because that's mostly what he ever says. So I told him I needed a walk to clear my head and I kissed Ben goodbye and told him I needed some sleep and then I took my sorry, misinterpreted ass to the airport and came home.

And shit, I got it wrong. Lochlan isn't Caleb. There's no evil there. Only concern. Valid and long-suffering concern and Jesus, nail her to the goddamned floor so she'll listen, wouldja?

Ten hours later, I went back and we sorted all of it out and all the guys present, namely Daniel and Lochlan and Duncan and Corey and August and the kids and I and yes, even Ben, got to sort through the mess we have made of our collective, tangled existence and we made our plans for the present and even a tiny little bit into the future.

It doesn't involve Lochlan.

Except as a friend and a support-pillar sometimes but otherwise we've kicked out one side of the triangle and now we're just a dot again. A super-imposed, melted-together oneness of being and things are going to stay this way.

Bridget and Ben versus the world.

Ben really did well. The interesting part is he didn't need that much of a push to get himself back where he needed to be but he brought home more than he's giving up. He managed to get back around and find the handle he used to have on life. The weirdly quiet and stoic and vaguely crazy, funny, beautiful man who promised to love me in sickness and utter depravity (actual words from our wedding) returned and I'm so happy I could cry.

True to form there is cake, and all the guys are here to welcome him home to his life and he's not going to get a chance to try and fuck it up again and he no longer wants to but for now everything is going to be second by moment by hour by day and nothing more.

Only it's everything more.

He's home. Home with his family and we get one more chance at getting this right.

It's important. If you pray, say a prayer that he continues to do as well as he has so far, and say one that my strength holds because he feels better when I feel stronger and I feel stronger when he feels better and it's a vicious cycle I'd be thrilled to get stuck in forever.

Home. One of those good four-letter words. Ben is home.

Happy first anniversary, Benjamin. I love you.

Cancel all of my drama and ignore the now-deleted entry that you may or may not have caught. I was home and now I'm going back to spend the weekend with Ben. Taking the kids. And Daniel and August. Ben will fly back with us Monday. God knows, Bridget loves to play plane-tag. Everything must be on a larger scale. Everything.

XOX,
b

Cancel all of my drama and ignore the now-deleted entry that you may or may not have caught. I was home and now I'm going back to spend the weekend with Ben. Taking the kids. And Daniel and August. Ben will fly back with us Monday. God knows, Bridget loves to play plane-tag. Everything must be on a larger scale. Everything.

XOX,
b

Quick update.

Looks like I have three minutes so I can update those of you I haven't emailed already. There is hardly internet access here, so I doubt there will be any more updates until we're home again.

We're, I said.

I'm flying home Saturday, Ben will follow on Sunday. He would have been home last week but he wasn't quite ready, he really wanted us to have this week here so we can get as much help as we can get before we head home to a new sponsor for him, a new plan for support, a new pretty-much-everything. A fresh start.

Seems fitting, as our first wedding anniversary is on Sunday.

Yesterday was difficult. Ben took the whole day to warm up to me, to see that I really am on board with this and I'm really not switching teams to play for Lochlanville for the remainder of the season. Once he warmed up we were off and running and aside from a rather spectacular ten minutes when I went to rubber and blacked right out mid-conversation (which is NOT FUN, let me tell you and put me on the sidelines for half of today because I haven't eaten or slept or unclenched all that much but I'm feeling better and whoever started the pregnant rumor, once again, can kiss it and you know what IT is) everything has been going really well.

Really well. Cautiously well. Good. Steadily forward and upward.

(Okay, Duncan is coming. I've got too much downtime stuck-in-a-hotel-driving-myself-mad time and haven't slept yet.)

Ben has worked really hard over the past five weeks. I thought he did it because of the fear of the mass migration to Lochlanville. But not. He worked hard because he wanted to. He wanted to stop and he wanted to feel whole again and he wanted to stop escaping into Ben-land where everything is hypnotic swirls and black hallways that tilt crazily and loud guitars that ring in your ear long after the switch on the amplifier has been flicked off.

He wanted to be Ben again and with however many stops and starts he has had over the past four years, he finally put his fear aside and his pride on the shelf and he's doing what he set out to do. He wants to be a good role model for his stepchildren because it's something he would like to do for them, instead of failing them like everyone else has. A need to make something right out of all this wrong.

With any luck and all this hard work continuing, with the plans and the support he has falling into place now, I think he's got a very good chance, but I won't say any more, I can't jinx it. I can't predict it. He's going to do it or he's not, and nothing I do or don't do will change a thing, I'm just the back-up singer.

But oh, what a lovely song. I've waited forever to hear it, and I'm not disappointed.

Enjoy the rest of the week. See you soon.

(PJ! Please record Ice Road Truckers for me. They don't have it here and I forgot to ask you before. Love you guys. b. )

Quick update.

Looks like I have three minutes so I can update those of you I haven't emailed already. There is hardly internet access here, so I doubt there will be any more updates until we're home again.

We're, I said.

I'm flying home Saturday, Ben will follow on Sunday. He would have been home last week but he wasn't quite ready, he really wanted us to have this week here so we can get as much help as we can get before we head home to a new sponsor for him, a new plan for support, a new pretty-much-everything. A fresh start.

Seems fitting, as our first wedding anniversary is on Sunday.

Yesterday was difficult. Ben took the whole day to warm up to me, to see that I really am on board with this and I'm really not switching teams to play for Lochlanville for the remainder of the season. Once he warmed up we were off and running and aside from a rather spectacular ten minutes when I went to rubber and blacked right out mid-conversation (which is NOT FUN, let me tell you and put me on the sidelines for half of today because I haven't eaten or slept or unclenched all that much but I'm feeling better and whoever started the pregnant rumor, once again, can kiss it and you know what IT is) everything has been going really well.

Really well. Cautiously well. Good. Steadily forward and upward.

(Okay, Duncan is coming. I've got too much downtime stuck-in-a-hotel-driving-myself-mad time and haven't slept yet.)

Ben has worked really hard over the past five weeks. I thought he did it because of the fear of the mass migration to Lochlanville. But not. He worked hard because he wanted to. He wanted to stop and he wanted to feel whole again and he wanted to stop escaping into Ben-land where everything is hypnotic swirls and black hallways that tilt crazily and loud guitars that ring in your ear long after the switch on the amplifier has been flicked off.

He wanted to be Ben again and with however many stops and starts he has had over the past four years, he finally put his fear aside and his pride on the shelf and he's doing what he set out to do. He wants to be a good role model for his stepchildren because it's something he would like to do for them, instead of failing them like everyone else has. A need to make something right out of all this wrong.

With any luck and all this hard work continuing, with the plans and the support he has falling into place now, I think he's got a very good chance, but I won't say any more, I can't jinx it. I can't predict it. He's going to do it or he's not, and nothing I do or don't do will change a thing, I'm just the back-up singer.

But oh, what a lovely song. I've waited forever to hear it, and I'm not disappointed.

Enjoy the rest of the week. See you soon.

(PJ! Please record Ice Road Truckers for me. They don't have it here and I forgot to ask you before. Love you guys. b. )