Equivocal rain.

You feed the fire that burned us all
When you lied
To feel the pain that spurs you on
Black inside

Waiting for news sometime in the next hour. Could be good news and sheer panic or it could be relief and resolve. We shall see.

Last night I went along and dutifully weighed in on everything that was presented to me by strangers who want to spend my money the way they see fit and in the midst of it Ben and I decided we wanted to be the children and we fired up a lovely argument which made most of the evening unbearable and tense.

I stayed at the penthouse last night only because now when I get angry I tend to just give up and give in. I'll stand behind Caleb for a while and study my own fingerprints because he makes the biggest impact. I'm not sure if I like that or it's the only avenue because I'm exhausted and unsure and ridiculously relieved to be here. I don't know which way is which or which end is up. I'm not sure it matters now what the issue was. We made up. We made out. Case closed. As usual a collective sigh of resigned frustration rises in a chorus. She's not leaving him. Fuck.

(Ben, I mean. Jesus, people.)

In other news, Ben fixed my keyboard. Victory chores. We came out here and some of the goo must have softened and reactivated in the ocean humidity because suddenly all of the major important letters and directional keys were stuck fast and it was so incredibly frustrating. He pulled most of them off and then looked at me. I merely pointed out that I get my money's worth. I buy cheap, disposable laptops and I eat over them, drink over them and cry over them until the words are released in proper order and the letters are stuck down fast. Then a little over a year later I start again. This laptop is worse than the last one though because the old one had nice loud speakers and this one does not.It's been a battle to hear anything from the tinny little speakers and I've been due a new one for a while.

The boys insist it be an Apple product but I resist because I like the threadbare, worn, industrial-type machines, not the sleek hipster ones. I don't want perky bouncing icons and that strange reflective silver. I want something in black, as always and not something new to learn OS-wise, because my brain is completely full up and I am busy learning everything new again. Besides, the old letter placement and temperamental Windows is like a favorite old blanket: it no longer keeps me warm, it's just a comfort thing.

It has to be a magnificently sad day when a sixteen-month-old Acer Aspire is a comfort object. I must be losing my mind.

Wait. Oh, yes. There's one of the posters in the pile from a long time ago:

LOST: One princess mind. Last seen on the East coast, circa 1997.

I can't wait for the day that I get to bitch about my old Macbook Pro, like the boys do. Before they lovingly pet the things and possibly feed them treats. What does a Macbook eat, I wonder? Oh yes, cash. Om nom nom.

Really though, it is inevitable. I do understand that for what I pay in disposable Windows machines I have already paid for the computer I should have purchased, instead of the one that I have.

But the space bar. It works again! And shift. And $, ironically enough.

Not sure for how long, and as I said, I am waiting for news and that news dictates the efforts of the coming days. Cross your fingers or perhaps leave them open if you enjoy seeing me fail. It makes no difference to me at all.

I think I gave up and I gave out and then I gave in and somehow I woke up a state of comfortable flux, snow white duvet hiding the sins of the dark from the bright white of another day, another chance even. I took it. I took the leap. I made the calls and I signed my name and I took the papers I was given and I listened carefully to the instructions and maybe we will land somewhere safe or maybe we'll just keep falling for a bit. Either option is fine tonight, oddly.

Not a good thing, just the state of affairs this evening. It always frightens me most when I am just ambivalent and nothing more.

.skaerf lortnoC .uoy fo llA

I've seen all of the decadence one person can absorb for one night. Bathrooms that outnumber bedrooms, marble this, that and the other, gas stoves wider than my car, decor that is going to make my belongings look like third-rate castoffs and lovely protected green spaces all around everything so maybe, just maybe, I will be able to sit on my new front veranda and hear the crickets.

If everyone would just shut the hell up, I might.

I'm at the penthouse tonight if anyone needs me. Quiet here, no crickets, only flames.

(Princesses should not have to be brave.)

Whatever fire drove me straight out the other end of winter on the high plains has finally gone out and I can't seem to walk out the damn door today. Today of ALL days. And I need to. So I'm going. Jesus, help me or avert your eyes or something. Don't just stand there and watch.

And apparently all songs lead back to Freebird. Like six degrees of separation or something. Fuck it. Argh.

Relish and Catch up.

Mmmmm...listening to all the great covers of Wicked Game that are out there. So far I like Corey's best.

Also found the best color of nail polish in the whole world. Radioactive turquoise, Schuyler called it.

Quiet day, holy.

Versus best.

It's brighter somehow. I walk along the path now strewn with cherry blossom and magnolia petals, a path colored pink to my delight. The light shines down and everything is soaked, lush and clean. Glorious. It's cool but not bone-chilling, it's vaguely scary without being terrifying anymore.

It's also very hard to turn the wheel that opens the door into the concrete room when it's slick with rain.

He was waiting though, and I got it open because I wouldn't have accepted anything less. I just do it if it needs to be done even though I hurt my hand and pulled that muscle just a little more which means once again when I lie flat on my back and take a deep breath pain roars through my whole body and Ben likes that and presses hard against me. It's alright, I will just sleep on my side afterward, wedged in tightly under Ben's arm, my head pressed underneath his hard chin, his breath warm on my hair, my skin still flush from the agony. I won't move a muscle.

Sleep and heal, sleep and heal. It's the ultimate dragon to chase these days but I'm trying. I bought sleeping pills yesterday because I'm out of ideas. I never get the coffee I want at the right times so I'm not jacked up on caffeine, maybe it's just the adjustment of not being cold, not being alone, not being pushed down under the weight of an unwelcome Prairie sky, perhaps.

I held the magnolia blossom carefully, tucking it into my pocket when I opened the door. Once inside I took it out again, glad that it will still uncrushed, intact. Sort of the way Jacob must feel when he inspects me for further damage than what he has caused, that enables me to utilize his guilt to keep him here.

As if I could let him go.

Is that for me?

Yes. I want you to see what it's like here.

Are you still happy?

Yes. I needed the water back.

I know, princess.

I made a useless motion to touch him and he abruptly stepped back and frowned at me. Dark blue flooded into his pupils and his hair darkened too and he was suddenly closer to me and I dropped my chin accordingly.

Hello, Cole.

Hey, baby. You look beautiful.

Thank you.

Caleb's looking after you.

It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and I nodded in an almost unconscious admittance.

What does Ben say?

Ben's world is ruled by his wants, what do you think?

I think the world is ruled by what you want.

Ha. Then you don't know me so well anymore. maybe you've been gone too long.

I'm right here beside preacher man, and let me tell you he is no less annoying in this state once you get him started.

But it's okay? This arrangement? I know it isn't easy, Cole, but I need things to stay this way just for a little longer.

He desaturated and grew before my eyes and the face I adore beyond words cracked into another soft smile, the kind that melts butter into broth.

Then what, Bridge? What happens next?

I can't tell you that. Because then he will know.

Who? Caleb?

Yes.

He isn't allowed to hurt you. Be careful, princess.

It's far too late for that, Jake.

He frowned and suddenly I was the one bathed in the bright lights, which only served to pinpoint how small and dirty I was, especially on my knees and around my mouth, from keeping up this race in which the only winner is the one who pays the officials to look the other way while the spectators murmur in horror but do nothing. It's a trainwreck and you don't look away, now, do you?

Jacob shook his head and mirrored my gesture from earlier, the one that hurts worse than that muscle inside my body, because he wants to touch me too but for some reason we can't seem to accomplish it, haven't more than once or twice since he spread his wings and they failed him in a way that forever changed everything.

I ignored the failure and I threw myself into his arms and they closed but he wasn't there. He wasn't there and I could hear Cole begin to laugh because that's what he does when he feels pain because he doesn't like knowing that I don't care that he's dead and everything still revolves around Jacob and maybe Ben will never ever get a fair shake unless something changes.

I stepped backwards and stumbled and then I felt him, his huge hand with the nimble thin digits that have traced every millimeter of skin that I wear, closing around my elbow so that I didn't fold to the floor. Ice cold today. Uncharacteristically ice old.

You need to go, princess. This isn't safe for you either.

And then I blinked and he vanished into the rain again. I'm really fucking sick of not being allowed to ever say goodbye. I need to figure out how to leave him on my terms instead of his. He gets everything and it isn't fair.

They get everything and it. isn't. fair.

I guess I'm learning, I must be warmer now
I'll soon be turning, round the corner now
Outside the dawn is breaking
But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free
The show must go on
The show must go on
Inside my heart is breaking
My makeup may be flaking
But my smile still stays on
My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies
Fairytales of yesterday will grow but never die
I can fly - my friends
The show must go on
The show must go on
I'll face it with a grin
I'm never giving in
On with the show
I'll top the bill, I'll overkill
I have to find the will to carry on
On with the
On with the show.

Church on the water.

Best Easter egg hunt EVER.

On a yacht.

Good morning and happy Easter. Yes, the champagne is still flowing and the children are eating chocolate and we're below deck because it's cool this morning but that's fine. Everything is gold plated so if you stare long enough it's just like looking into the sun.

I was skeptical of the wifi thing even and then Caleb told me that if I wanted something all I had to do is ask for it. The boys find this amusing but I don't run like this. I stay behind. I fall behind, mostly because I can't keep up with this sort of lifestyle. I'm too full of wonderment and innocence.

And so I asked for a Monte Cristo for breakfast and someone was dispatched to get it.

I believe the staff on this boat have their own staff. I believe that I may spend the rest of the weekend here. I believe in fairy tales.

Oh come on.

Shortly I'm going to turn back into a pumpkin and we're going to go to IKEA. Because I adore IKEA and I plan to scope out new dressers for the kids for when we are settled. And coffee. Oddly the coffee here isn't that good but I don't dare say anything because then they'll send someone else out and really I don't think this is reasonable anymore.

*poof*

I wonder if pumpkins talk when no one's there to hear them. I wonder if Sam is mad at us.

I wonder if these pigs are going to eventually block out the sun with their wings? Like Icarus but with bacon. Mmmmmm, crispy clouds .

Okay, enough champagne. We're headed home.

The internet needs a breathalizer.

If you're in the mood, please take my place this evening. I'm exhausted. Thank you and goodnight. Enjoy the party. It's on your behalf. Or your bewhole. Something of the sort. Caleb's throwing it. Doesn't he always? He networks more than Telus and knows more people than Jesus. I would totally worry about that except for the fact that I already have proof that he is Satan and he already took my soul.

Rambling. Don't want to go, would much rather sleep. But that would be ungracious of my bewhole.

Haha.

Drinking, yes. Sorry. No other way to find courage for this one.

Home at last.

Yesterday we took the first chance we had to really escape from the city and explore up into the mountains a little. We drove to Whistler, which was so delightful, in spite of the bad storm that seemed to be happening in a bubble around us. To us it didn't seem all that bad, actually but I think we stayed ahead of it somehow.

Last time I drove the sea to sky highway was 1993. It's grown up so much, mostly in part I believe due to the Olympics. However, I'm not bitter, it was nice to have a mostly divided road and lots of places to stop along the way. We saw waterfalls and wildlife and North Face everything, everywhere. What used to be remote is now a tourist mecca and Whistler was awash in dollar bills. Lots of dollar bills.

And it snowed heavily the entire time we were up there. To the point where I turned to Ben and told him I was sure I said I was done with snow now, thank you, may we please go back to the city?

He thought I was joking and we did not go back until it began to get dark and by then I think our explorer urges were sated for one day anyway. Off to drink wine (me) and sit in dimly-lit restaurants eating yummy dinner and oh, wait.

That place.

I fell in love with it to a wicked extent. Like more than that other neighborhood and it seems vaguely more doable. Okay, it's completely doable. I'm not even sure I'm calling it by the right name, I just know that I pointed from the road and Ben nodded and Caleb called someone and really that's pretty much the way I operate when the boys are around. Bridget chooses, Ben confirms and Satan chips off a piece of the princess-soul and smiles his lies and things happen.

There are some islands and some beautiful glass houses chipped into the front of the mountain and it's all ocean and salt and beauty and yeah, it didn't take any sort of wonderment or questioning on my part. I know exactly what I want when I see it and so this part was almost too easy. Like things are when you have no soul left maybe, or because we've been fortunate in so many ways while being so goddamned unlucky in others.

Doesn't matter. The view is going to wrap around what's left of my soul and then I won't notice the huge pieces that are gone, that won't grow back, that can't be replaced.

I would have given the rest for this. I still might.