Shhh.

Last night didn't go so well.

Apparently my new plan of attack is going to be to make myself as unattractive and act as horrible as I possibly can. Not suprisingly it didn't really work and I am back to square one.

Jacob called back at 6 to let me know his meeting was going to run long, so I fed and bathed the kids and then got them tucked in and mercifully they were zonked anyway and went straight to bed with no fuss. This rarely happens.

Then I curled up in the porch swing with a book and a large glass of wine. It's been a long week, wine is a nice treat right?

Only Jacob showed up at 8ish. By then the glass of wine had become three glasses and I was feeling no pain whatsoever. All I had eaten yesterday up until then was a half a piece of bunny's toast that morning. Oh shit.

Seriously, I think I have been that smashed exactly four times in my life. This was not a good night to pull this particular stunt.

Jacob got halfway up the front walk when I stood up rather ungracefully and said,

If yer gonna jus' come on in and have sex with me and break my heart 'gain go the fuck 'way, kay Jakey?

He laughed. A great big laugh that rang out loud. I steadied myself by pressing my forehead against the screendoor. It left a lovely imprint.

He told me this was great because I don't stop and measure my thoughts before I speak when I've been drinking and it lets him talk to the real Bridget-the one who speaks her mind without thinking it through the way sober Bridget does.

I'm sure I swore some more at him. Apparently I told him he needed to find a job here doing carpentry, since Jesus was a carpenter. And that Jesus doesn't love his children, in fact he has favorites and I'm not one of them. And God doesn't love me either because he handed me to Satan and Satan is now in control and I'm becoming someone I hate and ohmygod am I glad the kids are asleep because I am fucking unglued. I told him I was going to hell and taking him with me and he should leave me alone because hell burns like fire, baby.

Oh so pretty.

I had tears streaming down my face and I'm sure there was snot pouring out of my nose. The screen door left a red mark on my forehead. Already famous for the ugly-crying, I must have looked a sight. Dumb strappy dress with one strap falling down and barefeet that were dusty from being out earlier in the yard. My ponytail fell out from lying on the swing. Terrific.

What does he do? He kisses me. Hard. Snot and all.

What a great guy.

For my grand finale I tried to get him to take me to bed. No point in writing out the ugly details of that, I was once again soundly rejected (it had to be the snot) and sent to bed. Alone. He did stay in the guest room, so the kids had at least one grown up in the house who was conscious. And sane.

This morning he said he was actually very tempted by me and that even with the snot I can't shut Bridget the sex kitten down and it's hilarious. He said when I twirl a lock of my hair and look down at the floor it is his favorite thing in the world and it makes him come apart at the seams a little only because of the way I do it without thinking about it, being someone who thinks everything through first. I almost threw my coffee mug at his head but moving that fast would have caused my head to hurt even more.

Then he made me some eggs and toast and sat staring at me until the plate was empty and suggested tonight I stick to water to drink or we're never going to get anywhere.

I may have still been drunk when I suggested maybe he have a few glasses of wine so he could tell me what he really thinks.

He said he is bigger than me and probably has a lot more snot.

Yuck.

News

   (long pause) Hello?

    Jacob, it's me.

    Oh God, Bridge, I seriously thought you would never speak to me again.

    I couldn't do that Jake.

    I'm glad. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you first and give you time to process. I just had to know if you wanted me as badly as I wanted you.

    I know. I'm not mad anymore. I'm sorry I didn't call before. I don't even know what to do.

    About us?

    Yes.

    What do you want to do Bridget? If I wasn't going where would you be right now?

    With you. In your arms. Smiling at you, kissing you. But I can't pretend, Jacob. Now when I see you I know you're leaving and it breaks my heart.

    What if I said I would stay?

    You already told everyone you wouldn't change your mind and we both know staying just for me would be stupid.

    No. Bridget, you want to know what's stupid? That I didn't work a little harder to win your heart in the first place, and then maybe you'd be with me and those kids would be mine and I could take you all with me and I could have saved you from all this pain in the first place.

    Jake, things happen for a reason.

    You don't have to tell me that, Bridge. Don't try to talk circles around me, let's just deal with us. Right now. Right here.

    Then don't give me false hope, Jacob.

    Then believe me when I say I will stay if you want me to stay.

    Why is everything up to me all of the sudden? No one cared how I felt when you guys were planning this? I didn't get to decide if I wanted a timed relationship with you-YOU chose that for me. So I'd be surprised now if I got to have a say in how your life turns out.

    You've always decided how my life goes. That's how much I love you Bridget.

    Don't do this Jacob. You know I love you or this wouldn't be so hard.

    So we're going to go in circles until I get fed up and leave? Will that make you feel better?

    No, but somehow it's easier to watch you leave and hate your guts then to watch you leave and love you this much.

    No one said life was going to be easy baby.

    They didn't did they?

    Nope. Can I come over? We can talk? Just talk, nothing else. Maybe I'll bring some hamburgers to barbeque.

    Okay. Just talk.

    Okay, see you in a bit.

    Bye Jake.

    Bye Bridge. I love you.

    I love you Jake.

Again, he's going to be duly thrilled that I post our phone calls, but as you can see, today is going to bring absolutely no progress whatsoever. And I am slowly losing my mind.

I suppose it's nice to document just how exquisitely heartbreaking these guys can be before I murder them both and become a lesbian.

Some good news.

The Lemonheads are making a comeback! Ahhh, I loved their cover of Mrs. Robinson. Very cool news.

In other news, this morning I had my 5-years-overdue dental cleaning, plus flouride, a stack of xrays and a nice talk with my dentist. I came away with a new appointment to fill 4 tiny little cavities and the dentist is going to fix a chip on one corner of a front tooth.

I was feeling great about that news so I decided to kill two birds with one stone and stopped in for a chiropractic adjustment on the way home. I feel like a million bucks now, as my chiropractor has always been a miracle worker. Instant relief. No more headaches because he is the man. And I do wind up taking him for granted and forgetting to keep going to moment I feel better. Silly aren't I?

And it's all covered by our medical insurance. Yay us for pouring all this money into a plan with such good coverage.

Trey was here last night, enjoying a warm sunset and dinner with us, reading to the kids and blessed with a rare early day from work. We listened to vintage Fleetwood Mac and Eagles music and talked about things we wanted to do this summer. He asked if I had talked to Jacob. I said no. He suggested I call him tomorrow. To not leave him in agony. To tell Jacob one way or the other if I am going to spend the next few weeks with him or not and to forgive him for not telling me about his new assignment.

I asked him if he wanted me back and he said he'll be right here whenever I'm ready. And that he was learning not to take me for granted.

Now I just have to find the courage to call Jacob. Even though I don't know what I'm going to say.

Still here.

Despite my penchant for turning every facet of my life into some sort of romantic tragedy I remain completely paralyzed here.

I haven't done a damned thing since Jacob told me he is going. Mommybot went on autopilot. We tended the gardens, did chores, did some lessons, the usual kid-routines but otherwise I feel like I'm holding my breath. I don't know what to do.

It's taking a toll on me too. Fragile miss Bridget. My head postively aches. My heart is broken. It's amazing I can stand up anymore. I haven't eaten or slept in close to three days and yet all I want is to call Jacob and tell him to come over. Then I could temporarily soothe myself by placing a bandaid on a catastrophic flesh wound.

So that won't work but it would be so nice.

Ben called to tell me that Jake was half out of his mind. I know the feeling.

Trey will be here in 4 hours to have dinner and help with bedtimes and the angel on my shoulder tells me to suck it up already and just ask him to take me back, as I know he would and will, because he said he will when I'm ready. His score has been evened, the monkey is off his back. Misguided as it seems, he's not the bad guy. I am. I still love him. I just hate myself.

The instant gratification I wished for cost me too much and I wind up going back to my husband with a broken heart that he feels he has to somehow fix. I wind up alone, or I wind up biding my remaining time with Jacob only to be completely devasted when he goes.

Paralyzed.

Deep end.

I'm so sorry. I would kill to be able to write a journal entry about how pretty my violin glows in the sunshine or how amazingly well-written the pattern seems to be for my intricate Fleur-de-lis lace piece but I really have to work through this stuff first.

He didn't leave but he's going to.

Jacob accepted a position in Africa. South Africa? Or something. Somewhere. This is unbelieveable. I stopped listening after that because my consciousness began to darken around the edges as everything suddenly became clear. I thought I was going to pass out. They kept this from me. He didn't tell me.

Trey didn't so much as stand by while I left him, he GAVE me to Jacob as a farewell...present. A human present, which I'm pretty sure is trafficking, wife-sharing, whatever.
Jacob isn't going to be here for much longer, I was his grand sendoff or some evil thing.

He leaves July 1.

I'm a lot confused but it didn't stop me from refusing to answer the phone, the door, text messages or emails for a day or more. The kids and I played inside and cleaned and watched a movie and had some downtime.

I don't understand any of this. Here's the part I have been avoiding because maybe if I didn't say it out loud I'd escape judgement somehow.

Jacob is a minister.

Yup, an enigmatic nomadic hippie crusader Unitarian Christian minister. (He goes where he feels he is needed. That's how he ended up here shortly after we moved to this godforsaken place. I needed him! Ha!)

And a very good one. He's led his congregation to tears. He's one of those people you just drop everything and listen to as he weaves a story. Everyone thinks he is a beautiful man and he is and maybe it's because his inherent goodness radiates outside of his skin and affects everyone within a 5-mile radius. He has brought people into the church by way of his charms, his youthful age and his convictions, his beliefs. He is contagious.

Now do you see? He and I spent hours arguing faith, talking deep, baring our souls. We discussed my want for faith to be proven, my struggle with God and superstitions and bad luck and fate and wanting so desperately to understand how he can believe something so strongly. He brings it up so often to keep me on my toes.

I suppose it's the way he approaches every aspect of his life, passionately, with every fibre of his soul.

Lovely, isn't it?

Yup, I ruined a minister's marriage and my own because I am one hell of a selfish girl. Or am I? The minister Jacob left his lovely wife and took up with that blonde. The one who swears too much and has the nerve to say she questions God. But was I the one who ruined it? There is no point in fingerpointing now.

Would God do this? What sort of God puts three people in a room and says-take turns! For a limited time only!

Hence, the anger and the grief. He's leaving. I left and now he's going to leave. Wouldn't it have been better if he had just gone? And Trey, well Trey knew and he did this anyway. He made it easy. He made himself out to be the bad guy and he stepped aside.

Jacob wants Trey and I to get back together when he leaves.

WHAT?

Actually, I think I swore a lot more but I really have no need to put it here.

Why aren't we going? Well, I'm not moving permanently to the southern hemisphere. While it would be nice and all sure but it puts me in a weird position. The kids need to see their father and it's as if Jacob knew I wouldn't go, so I become his Bon Voyage Cadeaux.

And the rub is that he didn't even ask me to go, because he knows that I wouldn't take the kids that far, and he knows that I do love Trey too and that after Jacob leaves Trey will step back in and we'll somehow pick up where we left off, only this time I will have evened the score of heartbreak so that we will be starting anew and years from now this whole experience will be merely a blip on our radar. Someday.

Again, WTF?

What are these guys thinking? I'm not a commodity. The only thing they were smart about was not really telling the kids what was going on. Trey asked me to wait a few weeks, instead we told them that Daddy was working a lot and that Jacob would be here as often as possible to look after all of us. I was the one who told everyone else. Again, lovely.

See? Didn't I say it seemed a little too smooth, too well-thought out.

So the question only remains, why? Why did Trey remove himself from the picture and let Jacob step into his place?

Why did Jacob destroy his own marriage simply for the sake of a brief time with me? Why would Trey agree to any of this, thereby potentially ending his own marriage? How could Jacob go through with this? How did I fall for this?

It's simple really, and I think I failed to notice. I see how it happened because I would never have welcomed him into my home as a lover without letting go of our spouses first.

Jacob isn't only my best friend. He was Trey's too after they worked through their issues together and they found a way to make peace with each other about the only single thing that both one of them ever truly wanted.

Me.

The betrayal lies in the fact that he stood on my front step and asked me if I wanted to be with him for good. Forever, he said.

He lied.

~My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Hypocrite.

Why is it that only after two glasses of wine do I somehow muster the courage to tell people to go fuck themselves?

Why is it that everyone feels the need to shelter me or protect me from life?

I am strong.

Deja vu.

Just because someone who is 5' and small-boned can't lift a 7' tall tree up and into a big hole or maybe can't open a new jar of spaghetti sauce doesn't mean they are weak of spirit.

While my life was cartwheeling straight into hell I did do something all by myself. I got a new book deal. It's small but it's all mine and I'm tucking it away in case everyone I told to go fuck themselves leaves for good. Yay me. I wish I felt like celebrating.

And everyone always leaves anyway don't they? I left, and I'm the only person I could ever count on. Life is one huge risk and I see why people medicate and self-medicate through the harder spots. It's unbearable.

This was all a very cruel experiment with me as the victim and it's a role I never want to play ever again.

I'm so angry.

Jacob didn't leave, if he had it would have been so much easier than this.

Knives everywhere.

Sometimes a week takes a year to pass. An exhausting 7 days, a grueling endeavor that crawls at a urchin's pace. A week you are going to be happy to leave behind. A week that introduces and marks a major turning point of your life forever and ever.

I don't think I'll ever get on with my life. It feels as if no matter which way I turn or which door I open, someone gets hurt, their fingers caught in the hinges of my decisions.

I think I have aged a hundred years. I know I look tired and I feel completely worn out too. There have been a few hiccups in the progression from happily married to completely insane but why wouldn't there be? There are bills and taxes and house things and joint ownership issues that will take forever to sort out. I wish it was easier. But yet I'm happy that Trey and I will be connected forever through the kids. I still love him, he's still so much of my life.

And then when I see Jacob I just melt. I'm not sure what it is. It's not the new-love thing where you're all googly eyes and silly smiles that don't wipe off. It's the same feeling I've had every time he smiled at me over the past ten years, or when we'd dance together or accidently bump elbows. I guess I spent a long time dreaming of an exodus to him and then it was handed to me wrapped with a bow.

Last night Jacob was whittling. Yes, whittling. A real renaissance man. He had his Victorinox knife and a wooden chopstick that he pulled out of my hair, letting the twist fall out and he was leaning on my hair, which started to hurt after a while. I gave him a push and told him to watch out and he handed me a beautifully carved rose hair stick. Similar to a not-as-nice plastic one I wear when I know where it is, otherwise chopsticks, pens, butterknives and sometimes turkey skewers fit the bill.

Jacob then asked for more chopsticks so he could make more of them for me. I guess he thinks the butter knives are dangerous.

Crisp fall day.

This morning I woke up to blustery winds, dried leaves dancing across the yard and cold wet sunshine. It was below zero, a perfect fall day.

Which would be terrific but it's the end of April. Summer should be right around the corner.

I love fall. Part of my biggest plans for my garden involved fall plants like burning bushes for that gorgeous rich color to warm up your mood on chilly days. I have a collection of gorgeous sweaters and cord hats and coats, blankets and mittens that keep everyone warm. I love the light outside at 2 pm, baking pot roast in the oven and turning lights on even though the sun is still up. Mainly it's that feeling that it's warm in the sunniest places only and yet when you step into the shade you need a coat.

It's heartbreakingly beautiful and yet I can't find words to describe it for anyone to see it in their minds' eye.

Heartbreaking? Autumn?

Yes.

I grew up beside the ocean. I was born within sight and almost touch of the sea, and have been a shell and seaglass collecting, sailing, swimming, living half on the sand and half in the water fool for all but the past 4 years. I lived and breathed saltwater. Hence the moniker. Everyone always knows where I'll be when I'm within reach of the Atlantic.

And when fall came, those hideous school years where from age 5 to age 22 I had to say goodbye to my days on the beach, well, it hurt. It physically hurt to leave. And while it's romantic to stroll the beach wrapped in a sweater, marvelling at how cool the sand is in the October gusts, it's not the same as being there when the sun is blinding and you can melt into a puddle of happiness. It was a hard transition. I hated school. School was a concrete obstacle between me and the ocean. I did what I had to do, gritting my teeth, staring out the window. Teachers, counsellors, parents and friends said I was a dreamer, not an academic. They shook their heads and gave me passing grades because I was a good kid who stayed out of trouble so holding me back wasn't much of a solution. Each June I threw my schoolbooks in the garbage and refused to discuss the forcible confinement ordeal I had endured.

And once again I had a few months to embrace Atlantica. Until the leaves turned red and the air developed that distinct chill. For some reason that feeling of heartbreak, knowing the end of the summer has arrived once again is a feeling that somehow is natural and comforting in itself, as if I can use that unique emotion as a jumping off point for a fresh start, a fresh winter ahead. Perhaps it's my psyche's final exhalation of a sun-filled summer and then the hatches get battened down once again.

Perhaps I only really breathe at the beach.

Looking back I see the dramatic streak has been lovingly cultivated for much longer than I suspected originally.

They say that this city has two seasons, summer and winter. Each is 6 months long and there is a transition between the two so rapid if you blink you'll miss it. My corduroy gets little use. It's wool or cotton only and I go from lopi sweaters and flannel-lined jeans straight in my strappy vintage swing dresses and barefeet.

Today I'm going to wear my corduroy overalls and a long-sleeved Tshirt and possibly even shoes.

J is for Jacob.

Hi, I'm Bridget (Hi bridget.) and I'm going to talk about gardening today. And I'm not going to talk Trey or Jacob or the emotional rollercoaster of my existence on this planet (raise your hand if you believe that. I didn't think so).

I'm just going to talk about Earth Day 2006.

I bought trees. And more bulbs and even more seeds.

I'm xeriscaping the backyard and eventually the front will morphe slowly into a full english garden.

I dug holes, hauled rocks and manhandled trees bigger than I around the lawn yesterday. The neighbors watched from their windows as I did a half-day angry battle with mother nature in search of the true reward of a garden-annual breathtaking beauty throughout the four seasons. It's going to be lovely.

I probably won't be here to see it. But landscaping done right adds a fortune to a home's value and at some point the house will be sold, I suppose.

I'm not thinking about any of that though. I'm thinking how beautiful everything will be in another few weeks here just in the yard.

I didn't go to the zoo yesterday. I backed out at the very last second and let Trey and Jacob take the kids together. Which was supremely funny to me to see the looks on their faces but they did really well and the kids had a blast for Earth Day. Earth day with Daddy and their godfather (oh yes, when I dig a hole for myself I dig it deep-Jacob is the kids' godfather) together! Wow! The only two men in the world who would fill the kids up with ice cream and junk food and cake and think it's cool and of course the kids will go to bed at the usual time. They've been outside all day, hey?

Well that's not gardening talk, Bridget. You traitor/whore/idiot.

It is. Cultivating beautiful things takes time, so much time. And effort. I always thought gardening and love made perfect allegorical analogies. I probably wrote that wrong. I just like the way it sounds even though it's not quite right. I'm a rambler.

After my gardening efforts the two sugar-flinging idiots (the adult ones, that is) returned with pizza, trying at this point to finish off the children. The kids did go to bed on time, and we three sat around the table and had the world's most civilized conversation about absolutely nothing.

Somewhere I did something good in a past life, I'm sure of it now. I am blessed and it continues. The pot of gold under my rainbow keeps me in life's riches and I'm grateful always.

Trey left and Jacob didn't. It feels nice not to be alone here, it feels comfortable to walk into the kitchen and see Jacob leaning up against the counter smiling at me and knowing I can touch him whenever I want.

He thought the garden looked terrific and he's proud of me for working through my worries for once instead of being consumed by them. He's very good for me in that way, he's postive and mellow and is a little more proactive in obtaining personal peace and happiness than most. He's quite possibly the biggest flowerchild in our circle who ever was, everything is peace and love and nauseating coolness from him. Together we're a deadly combination of throwback hippie sensibilities and freewheeling liberalism. He's the only person who never flinched when I suggest we have a goofy singalong or hug a tree or eat something new and weird and raw or just let things be. Which is funny, since the rest of our circle has forged ahead with their blackberries and designer clothes, spendy coffees and yuppie existences. He is the only other card-wielding Greenpeace member too. And not because of me, it was hilarious when we both found out.

See what I'm saying? He's me, only way taller and well, male. And he has a name at last, because everyone knows who he is anyway, and I got tired of going back to reduce his name to just an initial when I'm writing. He's duly unimpressed with that and he told me if I take the blog down or password it he'll let me read his journal.

No way! I love the comments, I love the visitor stats and I love that people come back again and again to read my life stories because it's satisfying to write about real life instead of fiction sometimes. It's a mental break for me almost and he knows that asking me to close it is akin to suggesting I join the witness protection program and drop off the face of the earth. But he asked, simply on principle.

My garden does look terrific.

Zoo.

Last night after the kids were in bed and asleep I locked all the doors, turned on a single lamp in the living room and worked on lace while I watched The Interpreter on the movie channel. A really good movie and I thought it was great that Nicole Kidman's character Silvia had my hair. Neat. I used to wish I had Nicole Kidman's hair in Practical Magic. Long and red. Instead I wound up with long and blonde. Neat to see her with my hair, like poetic justice from envy.

So The Interpreter was about listening. Which was great because I mostly listened as I worked, and I finished the main piece and I didn't have to talk deep or talk at all or rationalize or console or encourage or support or anything.

I was alone. A self-imposed break from all the passionate men in my life who want nothing more than to make me happy. Most girls should be so lucky. I turned off all the phones, shut my eyes and told them all to take a break because the emotions are overwhelming some moments and I balled up my fists and refused to think anymore last night.

I'm not stressed out, it's been very peaceful-whispery, and kind, the whole experience. It's not going to blow up in my face like I feared because J can read my mind and since Trey always could too I think they both know when I start tripping over my words and generally switch from my long drawn out forthcomings to one-word responses it's time to clear out.

I am fine and I'm not rationalizing because the world did not end.

I'm not justifying anything to anyone. Someday when my children understand life a little better and they ask me then I will answer to them and only them. If there's one thing I want them to know it's that love is a gift and you treat it like a garden and you will have a bounty. But don't be an idiot.

Well, not exactly like that, but close. I try not to mommy-blog because this is my brain's extra storage space.

Other worries include how to get through today's group excursion day to the zoo. Everyone will be there. It's a spring salute for all the kiddies and everyone knows what happened already but I haven't had to face anyone yet. What am I supposed to do, walk between the guys? I think I'll hang out at the back. Gah.