“One more game?” I asked of my bff, who really needed to go make dinner by 5:30. Our happy hours are short and to the point.
Mike had just had another “wobbly” moment, I saw the stacked Tupperware waiting in the hallway to be put under the house when the deck access unfreezes swing wildly and had run to him. It was the first time Jake saw it. It is as I describe it, like watching a marionette’s strings being randomly pulled, rather than a moment of dizziness. His legs twitch, he looks like he is misfiring on a brain-level.
I put Mike to bed, feeling ok, the maybe 15 or 16 second episode having passed.
“Nah, I have to go make my dinner,” she said.
“Its just,” I said, misting slightly. “playing yahtzee and having happy hour a couple times with you, or this,” I said tapping the laptop, “doing the radio show, writing, those are the ONLY times I not-think about everything I have to think about. The rest of my day is all that. Nothing BUT that. Its the only time I can rest my worries for a minute, and be focused on something else.”
She brushed the dice away, and said, “I’m here for you. You have to talk about it. You never talk about it.” I think have have cried about this 3 times since last year in front of Linda since it began. Each time, copious alcohol was involved. I’ve got this. Its my burden. Its not yours, hers, or anyone else’s, and by gahd; the LAST thing I want to do is make my escape hatches part of the drama….
And she is where I go to NOT-THINK.
I was proven wrong.