Blink and you would have missed it. I wrote a brief rant about public school and then opted to call the school and work it out, thus removing the need for the post in the first place. My apologies.
I have to write about other things anyway.
You're coming back down
You say you feel lost can I help you find it
When you come around
From time to time we all are blinded
You're coming back down
You don't have to tell me what you're feeling
I know what you're going through
I won't be the one that lets go of you
I think it's time to just move on
When you come back down
If you land on your feet
I hope you find a way to make it back to me
When you come around
I'll be there for you
Don't have to be alone with what you're going through
I don't like to talk so much about work, I try to just tick through my list and do it and it isn't a very hard job, really because I can wax and ramble and rock and roll on and on and only have to go back and flick out the nonsense later and it all falls into place after a few tweaks and a little polish.
A short while ago I actually had to duck as a roughly bound copy of something new I have been working on was thrown at me. Though of course now the story has changed and it was thrown at the wall and his strength was as usual misjudged (because he has no idea how strong he really is) and yet anger and frustration and sadness overtook him and he didn't bother trying to maintain his self-control just like he doesn't maintain it in other areas anymore, as a perk of comfort in one's own environment.
Was thrown.
Paper cutting through the air and the binding exploding which meant my eighty pages or so are now out of order and all over this room. Everywhere.
A work that has nothing to do with him but he saw too much of me in my central character and he didn't appreciate the context and I have never apologized for anything I've written professionally and I don't plan to start because I don't use our lives as fodder in my work. No matter how hard it is to explain how parts of you wind up diluted in your stories, others will simply see through your intentions and put you there, willing or not. And with the kinds of things I usually write, it's not a place he wanted to visualize me any more than he has in awful situations as it is.
Which makes the whole chucking a book at your harmless and nonthreatening spouse a most harmful and completely threatening gesture. This is the physical equivalent of me throwing a book at Ruth. Which I would never do.
I may have been too surprised to react properly.I withered a gaze at him and burst into tears and walked the fuck out on him. I went to the den and locked the door because as much as he likes to remove doors from their frames, this door is very large, very solid and very pretty and I knew he wouldn't want to break it.
He knocked on it for almost half an hour while I tried to gather up and sort through my papers with my shaking hands and I was doing great at ignoring his pleas until I looked to the table by the window and saw my once-intact cellphone lying there in about 4 pieces.
What happened to my phone, Jacob?
Caleb has been calling you.
What happened to my phone, Jacob?
He left eight text messages and around 6 voice mails.
Jacob, just answer my question, please.
Why is he calling you, Bridget? Why now?
Jake! You're scaring me!
I threw it.
What are you, the hulk now? Am I going to come out there and see you in ripped-up purple pants with green skin? What in the fuck is wrong with you?
I'm sorry, Bridge, just open the door.
Fine.
I crossed the room and opened the door and stood there.
I need your phone then, Jake.
Here.
He passed it to me and I stepped back and shut the door on him again.
And I unfairly leveraged my entire history against and I told him he was acting like Cole.
He hit the door once so hard and I knew it broke but he was smart enough to walk away. That or he figured out he was being scary and he stopped. Maybe he scared himself because scaring me wasn't enough to stop him?
And I'm still in here, aren't I?
And it's great that this room has it's own entrance from the outside and all because Jacob used to do his counseling from here and so I could run from this bullshit but frankly, my coat and car keys are somewhere else and I really don't feel like I should be afraid enough to want to leave my own house.
However, I am.
Wow.
