That time Sam and Caleb stood on the same side of an argument but for different reasons.

Ha. Caleb has forbidden me to go to Nevada. That's ironic considering how many times he has taken me there, albeit not to Burning Man but to Las Vegas.

In a fun twist of fate, Sam also threw his dissent into the ring where we shone a spotlight on it, wondering what the hell it was. The crowd held silent before a collective gasp heralded the confirmation that yes, Sam is jealous of August and this isn't anything we didn't already know. Same show, different town every night.

Funnily enough, Caleb doesn't have any issues with August. His issue is with Duncan and I'm not all that surprised. Duncan makes everyone nervous when it comes to me. Well, everyone except for Dalton, I guess. And Ben who really isn't picky as long as I'm happy and I'm all, Jesus, Ben. Don't say that. You'll probably regret it forever. 

Ben insists that he wouldn't but preferably he would like to watch.

Watch what? I ask innocently and he laughs and tells me he hopes we all have fun.

Me too. Even though it seems like my reputation will probably arrive before I do. Great.

Virgin burn (Black Rock Baby).

Lived for lies, lived for tales
Lived for good and hit the rails
Love you boy with what I know
Hid that love up with my bones

Found the fire in the rain
Burning drops drowned all my pain
Listen to the oceans brawl
I’ll find you and then I’ll crawl

Pierced your arrow through my heart
Wanted me, now want me gone
In your hiding you’re alone
Kept your treasures with my bones

For Lochlan's fiftieth birthday this year, I'm taking him to Burning Man.

In three weeks.

!!!!!!!

We're freaks and it's fitting that the year we can go the theme is Carnival of Mirrors. I have always wanted to go. He was always on the fence about it so I pushed him off and got tickets after Christmas and played dumb until a couple of days ago when he started making noises about maybe going to New York for his birthday this year, since it's a big one. So I had to cough up my plans before he bought plane tickets.

August and Duncan have been helping me all along. They're going too. Ben isn't sure but if he does decide he wants to go Duncan will give him his ticket. If he doesn't want to go we'll make it a friendly foursome. Or something.

*Snort*

I've spent six months openly, verbally wishing I could go just to keep up a front and it WORKED! And now my head can happily explode. He was rather stunned and then so incredibly excited about it,  that for the second time in my sweet life I've pushed HIM out of his comfort zone instead of the other way around (the first time was this whole plural marriage thing but that wasn't me, Ben talked him into it).

It's going to be amazing.

It's going to be surreal.

It's going to be really, really dirty. I'm used to dismantling, cleaning and (let's face it) burning most of August's belongings when he comes home from BM each year. Wait until it's multiplied by four.

Still in bed. Busted out a Relpax (?) sample that says if the first dose hasn't worked in two hours, take a second. That doesn't give me much confidence at all. This is why I hate triptans.

This is also why I hate being a guinea pig. And headaches. I hate headaches.

Psycho Circus.

My phone went off at five this morning.

Ben grabbed it right over my head and answered with a swear word I've never heard used in quite that way. He grunted a bunch of confirmations and then repeated a time. Then he hung up and left the phone on his bedside table. He said to stay put today. That he was going to go help Caleb out for a bit and he got up right away.

He came back and woke me up later to say goodbye and I asked him what the hell he was doing. He said Caleb needed me to do a couple hours of work early and that it was important so Ben said he would do it, calling him on his urgency. Ben used to be an insurance agent of all things. He can find his way around an office. He wasn't concerned.

I think he wants me though, I told him and Loch's arm tightened around my hips.

Then I'll wear lipstick. Where is it?

I smiled. There's seventeen or eighty of them in the drawer in the bathroom. 

Any particular color I should look for? 

Something like a blue-red? Go big or go home, Benny. 

I would love to stay here but I'll be damned if he's going to summon you this early. Time to teach him a lesson. I'll just go with full makeup. Want to help?

Oddly I want to see what you can pull off on your own. 

He came out twenty minutes later looking like the fifth member of KISS. Lochlan took one look at him and burst out laughing so loudly I'm pretty sure we woke up everyone with our howling and I lunged for my phone to take a picture, which I promptly sent to the whole group with the title of Caleb's EA for today.

I forgot Caleb was on the group chat as well and he replied Lucky me

With a sad face emoji.

Hahah.

Fucked.

Just when I think a dinner date is a death march or a life sentence or a big scary thing I should run from (I need large flashing cues) Caleb pulls out all the stops. The ones labelled charm, chivalry and Good Humanism and is sweet to me. Beyond sweet. Somewhat fatherly almost (SO CONFUSED).

He was good through dinner. He said he suspected I may be pharmaceutically enhanced and so he did not order wine or anything else, we had lemonade. And he asked me what I wanted so he could order for us. He asked for a short walk along the boardwalk after dinner and then he suggested an early night, that we both were tired and could use the rest and he released me into Loch's fiery gaze and protection at the stroke of nine o'clock.

Loch promptly poured us both a big scotch and we took them to the bathtub, Loch more riled than ever because when Caleb is nice and easy to deal with he is scarier than ever. But he wasn't scary, it's more as if he was disheartened that I was not looking forward to it and disappointed that I was afraid and so he made it as appealing as he could but cut it down to two hours/just a dinner in order to appease everyone involved.

Boy, that makes us wary. We trust few by default but it's easier if you don't play games in the first place, right?

This morning the money was in my account for Henry, With an equal amount for Ruth. He never fails to provide for both children when permitted to do so which is sweet and so I called him to thank him for being prompt and generous and kinder than usual last night.

I can be anything you need. 

Ha. Even you can't pull that off. 

Try me. 

Be Jake then. I hung up and wished I hadn't said that, because a) he probably could be and b) it's damned disloyal to Ben and Loch to feel this way all the time.

Pentobarbie Doll.

Good morning! Sense8 got renewed for a second season, Lochlan wasn't the least bit upset about sleeping alone (he didn't anyway) the night before last and Caleb's envelope was for tonight so...uh..I need a disguise and an alibi and possibly Nembutal.

(Oh and for those telling me Sense8 wasn't that great after seeing one or two episodes? Finish it. Profound and fun as fuck. And I'm NOT a Wachowski fan, truth be told.)

Caleb's request coincides with our monthly co-parent meeting in which we coordinate schedules, split costs, report on concerns and fill each other in on anything and everything concerning Henry. We make sure we're on the same page at all times, with regards to meals/friends/activities/rules/downtime and behavior.  We check in formally and nail it all down each month, every month. His idea was that we should have fun doing it. Get dressed up, have a fancy, multi-course dinner and spend the evening instead of sitting on hard stools at his kitchen counter going over dentist receipts and calendars under bright lights, a chore so far in this life.

It's hard to argue with that but in this house agreeing with the Devil about anything brands you a thief and a traitor and someone who should have her head examined. 

It has been. 

My head sits on a platter in the living room, if you're wondering. A living specimen being perpetually dissected, debated and debriefed. I won't need to bring it since it's usually busy or broken anyway. I was planning to float it in a barbiturate looking glass so that instead of having feels I could just have fun for once.

Of course it's wrong. Of course. But this week life I seem to be on a roll with doing things that way.

Psychic connections.

I'm watching Sense8 for the third time with Daniel, who wants to lie in bed in the air conditioned goodness of his and Schuyler's love nest and while away the hours in front of the television. Schuyler works a lot, Ben is completely disengaged and Daniel feels a little lost so I came to keep him company, trading my wet bikini for his pajamas in the safety of his walk-in closet and then snuggling down beside him in their bed where it was cool but so warm at the same time. He didn't want to show his pretty face today and so he doesn't have to. Sometimes he slips on the edge of his life too and we tie in and keep him from plummeting further. Lochlan is especially good with Daniel and maybe that explains why he's good with Ben too. But Loch is busy today so I'm it.

(Sense8 is perfectly amazing, by the way. A life-changing program. I adore it. It's on Netflix. It's worth the watch. Multiple times.)

We need food, Bridge. 

Chocolate and cuddles fix everything. I throw my arm across his chest and put my head down on his pillow.

So how do we get food if you're snuggling with me and I can't get up?

Call PJ. He brings me food in bed sometimes.

Over here?

Worth a try. 

He calls PJ. PJ answers and says fuck no, dude. 

Well, who else can we call? 

Schuyler! 

Schuy is receptive and promises to bring home takeout after work. Then he spends so long sweet-talking with Daniel while the television show waits on pause that the screen goes to sleep and then I do too. So warm. So worn out. Swaddled in almost-Ben. I can limp through the rough patch. I can make it. Just need one of Danny's mental-health days. Tomorrow will be better.

When Schuyler came home I was still out. They took their food to the dining room and ate, leaving me to sleep. They finally flagged Loch down and pointed out I wasn't going to be woken up if it wasn't an emergency and then they came to bed eventually and left me there still to sleep, the monkey in the middle. I woke up at seven-forty-five this morning and Daniel was up, in clothes with wet hair and Schuyler had gone again.

You missed some incredibly curry, little miss. And goddamn. I always forget how cuddly you are in your sleep. It's like spending the night with a magnetic octopus on speed.

Well, there's a description. 

I won't even tell you what Schuy said.

(When I fall asleep at night I make up micro-stories in my head to keep it busy. This is one of my favorites.)

Love showed up just as my eyes were getting heavy. It was long after dark and I had little strength to show for myself. An ambush, if you will. At such a young age, one wouldn't think it would be possible but it chose me and I wasn't about to hide behind anyone.

A fight, it cried. To the death! On the count of three!

Three. I postured and angled and pretended to be a worthy adversary but truthfully I let it win. The terms of the fight, the prize, as it were was that it would control me for the rest of my life.

And it has.

I apologize for nothing. I played the game and I played it to lose. I have lost. The wounds it left will never heal. I am riddled with holes and will wear them proudly.

Was it worth it? You bet. If I had it to do over again I wouldn't change a thing.

Redefining happiness.

Love of two is one
Here but now they're gone
Came the last night of sadness
And it was clear she couldn't go on

When I came down this morning in my pajamas I found August and Lochlan sorting out (Don't Fear) The Reaper. Trading lines because it's very hard to sing it alone. They pick a song a week and perform the shit out of it to the point where everyone begins to complain but I love it so much. Any relief from Wednesday's turn toward a new song will be swiftly dashed by Saturday morning when the repetitiveness begins to wear on everyone.

Does Lochlan care? Fuck no. He's the Pied Piper and we're the townsfolk and I don't think that's ever going to change. The only difference is he doesn't pass the hat here, he trades in absolutes only. Shelter, food, affection, acceptance, patience and redemption.

What else is there?

Oh, there are other things, I think to myself as I look at my phone. A new message from Caleb and the only thing on the preview window is a picture of an envelope. He's joined the twenty-first century at last or maybe he was just too frustrated to waste time finding a real envelope to use because he doesn't have an assistant anymore to replenish his supply.

August forth.

It feels like fall today. I am underslept, overmedicated and uncharacteristically clingy-feeling, as if I want to hide away, stop the world, gather arms close around me while I close my eyes and sleep for a whole day, maybe two until I can answer that stupid question without inexplicably tearing up.

How are you, Bridget?

It seems like such an innocuous thing but to me it's always a homing beacon or an invitation to say way more than fine in return. License to be honest. To be raw. A fork in the road that says Deal with how you feel right now and if you're successful we'll give you the map to the next part. That's how August plots out his counseling, you see. Each thing you deal with is a point on a map and the map is your life and he wants you to heal all along the way. More than once I have thrown a whole stack of papers up into the air and walked out, insisting that I am lost, that I'll never find my way back, and that he'll be waiting by the side of the road for a while still, I'm probably in a different but parallel universe. Go on ahead. Leave me here. I understand. 

But August asks me to shelve the drama I am concocting and to embrace the glorious east-coast-imposter wind as it ruffles through our hair, the sunlight as it dapples the leaves and and the cooler temperatures which promise level-headedness and easier sleep tonight. Things to look forward to, Bridget, he implores me and I know damn well he's right but I threaten the two days of sleep anyway as an unattainable reward. As a plan that I'll never fulfill because interruption is king. Distraction is the rule and Bob's your uncle. 

Wait, that isn't my phrase, it was August's, as he imitated Gage, who always says he can eat the whole _______ (whatever I put out for dinner) and Bob's your uncle. 

But what does that even mean? I ask, curious because I love words and I'm just beginning to figure a few of them out. 

He can't explain and he finds that funny and we all laugh because it's so absurd and yet I still feel like the sadness is right there on the other side of a door in my brain and if it gets windy enough the door will fly open by itself and I'll have to deal with what's on the other side so if it's all the same to you I'm just going to stay right here for a little while, spot marked on the map and when it's safe I'll move forward. 

Or not.