Thursday 7 February 2008

Bridget and the little green monster.

    This won't break your heart
    But I just think it could
    Cause I haven't tried as hard as I should
    To separate you from everything I do
    But I would never want to come between us two

    I'll keep your memory vague
    So you won't feel bad about me
    I'll say the things that you said
    Sometimes so it reminds me


Here's a post that's going to make a lot of people happy.

For it's....er...honesty.

The white horse is a white truck, an F-150 that rarely sees dirt and carries the noblest of heroes. A guy in a black cowboy hat and an old army coat who never holds much of a grudge, thankfully.

A guy who smells like shaving cream and toothpaste and Marlboros.

The truck and the hero were waiting when I came out of the church, planning to head past the school, collect the kids and then come home and start dinner. I was hoping that my phone was found ( it was, in said army coat) and that I could give back the stupid blackberry, having grown weary of fielding the sheer number of female callers. Did he get that many calls a day? Did he still keep in touch with so many girls?

He wasn't surprised at the calls, he reminded me they come out of the woodwork just before he goes. He wanted to go to the school with me and then he said he'd take us out for dinner.

He asked me not to go see Joel next week, to just keep that night free and he would try his best to get back for it.

We went for dinner and the kids chatted about their days, still coughing a little but worlds better than the weekend. When we left the restaurant, close to six, he took my elbow and stopped me and pointed out the sky. It was still light out and I stopped dead in my tracks to watch the sunset and marvel that we are indeed almost halfway through February and into spring and this may have been the shortest winter of my life. I thought it would be the longest.

We came home, got the day cleaned up and stowed away as yet another entry logged in our history books and Ben asked me out of the blue not to mess with things. Not to mess with my getting better, not to experiment. That everything would be okay and that he would take his pills if I would continue to take mine. Taking a common and quiet bond and just asking me to think about not changing a thing right now despite the fact that everything is always changing.

It never stops changing.

I'm not looking forward to the weekend. I'm not looking forward to the next month of being alone again, he no longer wants to go at all and we're both a little hesitant to thrust him back into a situation of being on the road with it's own hazards and pitfalls.

And so he left the light on once again. Wanting to take in every moment, every second of us and whatever fledgling love is there. He found a deeper intensity and we rode it through until morning and when the sun rose, his hand slipped on my skin and my pearls ripped away from my neck. Several spilled on the floor, the necklace was old and it had broken in four places and he said he would buy a new one, forgetting who gave it to me and I didn't say a thing but I made a note that he now owes me a memory.

This morning the I love you exchanged in a hurry as he walks out the door wasn't the usual one we have said for years as we part. This one held the same letters but a completely different meaning and we both stared at each other for a long moment, wondering if the other meant what we meant, realizing that we both did, after all.

It felt a little weird. Sort of like falling in love with your brother. I can say that and be the little bitch because it keeps me from his hurt.

We're ignoring this elephant, him leaving. When I said I could never have a life with Ben, I wasn't being dramatic. He leaves, I feel abandoned. He used to go a lot more, perhaps it was a way to get back at me for casting him aside in favor of Jacob's attentions so long ago. Letting Jake slide into second place and Ben got pushed to the back burner to burn to the bottom of the pot.

He always said I was out of his league and I never understood that. I thought it was the other way around. And now I don't want him to go and it's less about the abandonment. The rest of the guys are here, Ben's gone before.

I'm jealous.

I don't want to know that girls are constantly calling him and following him and offering themselves to him. I am spoiled rotten. I like being the only one in his radar, the only one within reach. I like being the only one on his mind. And all the guys can tell me until they're blue that these girls aren't on their minds, and that they don't have names or personalities or memories for them but in the end it doesn't help.

I want to be the only one in his arms. I want him to know that I'm not out of his league, I think he might be out of mine.

I think my heart must be growing back. I've never been jealous like this. Vindictive, sure, just never jealous. What an awful, stupid, immature feeling.

Ben will be so proud.