(This post got lost and should be listed before the last one, if you're wondering.)
I've had a busy morning.
First
I drove down to the fire station and gave away all the cases of wine
and assorted new bottles of vodka that found their way into my house
over the holidays. Whatever was open I poured out. Alone.
Because I'm trying.
Then
I went to therapy. Alone. Which is great. It's my confessional, only
I'm not given a gamut of counted sorrows to run, instead I'm forced to
confront everything I hate about myself and everything that scares me.
So much fun.
But the alcohol is gone which means the anti-depressants make their welcome return.
See look! I said welcome. I'm trying.
Then
I hit the doctors office, alone, for my IUD. Why? Because nothing else
works. I can't keep track of anything and anything Jacob can get his
hands on will of course, be sabotaged or debated until it's meaningless.
He can't talk me out of an IUD every night so it was the next logical
step. Because vasectomies in this province carry year-long waiting lists
and he doesn't want one and the simple fact that Jacob has not fathered
any biological children is making the urologist hum and haw anyway so
it's not something we're going to explore any further, frankly.
Hell,
I'm just trying to keep the peace for a little while. My doctor warned
me today that couples who have difficulty coming to some sort of
agreement when it comes to how many children to have often wind up
unhappy and divorced as a result. He knows our struggles, knows our
history and frankly I know we're in danger and it's from far more than
just deciding on one more baby. Far more.
But we're trying to fight for it.
Surprisingly,
couples therapy went better than anything else. My proactiveness was
duly noted and I got my verbal pat on the head and appreciative murmurs
from everyone in the room and then we proceeded to dissect Bridget
without benefit of painkillers, which hurt like hell, like it always
does. There's a pain I now look forward to because it's become my
replacement for the pain I felt with Cole. I can simply carry it around
and lavish it onto a new aspect of my life. I dove right in today and
was the first to agree with the assessments levelled on me that I'm
playing with fire.
Yes, I know that. Old habits die hard and fire brought forth Jacob, now, didn't it?
He
is having no luck losing his good-boy, savior-complexed, hands-tied
bystander image. For some reason he holds back. Maybe it's because he
can't believe his wish to hold me in his arms brought with it all this
other...stuff that's going to take up so much space he can hardly hold
on to me anymore.
Why is life more complicated now than it was
before? Maybe it just seems like it is because I'm writing it all down
now and working on it, instead of pretending it doesn't exist. That is a
world of difference, doing it. It makes me see it all and I don't like
what I see and I want things to be better.
Onward and upward. We
left the office, not in tears, but in love. Somehow the worst, most
honest revelations tend to kickstart a fresh new morning, a proverbial
proving ground from which we seem to take three steps forward. We did it
this morning and we'll do it every morning until the past recedes again
and until we can do it without trying to bring each other down. Because
when I stop and look at Jacob I love him. I don't see or care about
anything else, I just see him and I love him and I want everything else
to just go away now.
I told him that and his eyes welled up and he said,
Now you finally know what happens every time I look at you, princess.
