Day 5

Oh, no.

I just hope he didn't start something he didn't finish. I don't want to clean up his mess -- or an even bigger one than I already have to deal with, anyway.

was it magic or midas that touched you?
and by magic i mean trickery and by midas i mean faith

-- "magic vs. midas," sunset rubdown

You can't do this, Ben. You've got to focus on getting home, not on -- whatever this is. You've got to work on getting home.

And getting sober. This is not ... Leave this to Harry. You're too old for hangovers.

Treatment of Dissociative Identity Disorder typically includes the following components: a strong therapeutic relationship, a safe therapeutic environment, appropriate boundaries, development of no self- or other-harm contracts, an understanding of the personality structures, working through traumatic and dissociated material, the development of more mature psychological defenses, and the integration of states of self. Treatment of Dissociative Identity Disorder is typically long and challenging. Spontaneous remission will not occur.

. . .

Integration Isn?t Possible without Dissociative Identity Disorder Treatment

. . .

I have a feeling I'm going to be in the library until they kick me out at night.

Holy Hell. I don't even know what her name is. She's probably not even half my age. Holy goddammit.

It wasn't me. Was not me. Oh, but I knew this would happen.

I just wish I could remember why.

I wonder if the Daniels girls are going to tell Harper. Sh*t. What am I even supposed to say -- to any of them?

I think this is something I shouldn't be doing.

It's just still so difficult. I know there's only one way to get home to Adam -- I spend all day in the library, I usually spend a couple of hours reading before bed, fall asleep with a book, in a pile of papers -- I'm allowed a distraction, aren't I? If I don't, I might go nuts.

Ha, more than I already am.

Jackie asked me if I was a certified nutjob. I avoided answering -- let her draw her own (wrong) assumption. Of course, I'm not 'certified,' so maybe that's fine. The same thing when she asked me about that girl last night -- I've never seen her before. She has me confused for somebody else. It's all true. It's just not the whole story.

Is this a problem? It is a problem. I don't know why I never addressed it before. Bad coping skills? With Adam gone, I -- I guess Ella was right. Maybe she did deserve the smack. My checking out was probably worse.

I wonder what Harper knows.

A lot has happened.

That girl came around again, the one Harry's been... Jackie was there. She was not happy -- I don't blame her. Found out why I've been feeling a little sick -- Harry's been doing coke with this girl.

I blacked out that night. Woke up with that girl in my bed in the morning.

I told Jackie. Almost everything -- about the rest of them, about what Ted did. I could have just played it off like I was some lying jackass, but... I couldn't. I like her -- I trust her for some reason.

Sam is pissed that I told her about them. Really, really angry. It's been bad. Jackie mentioned that she's good at first aid -- I hope I don't need her help.

I moved into Lucie's attic. It's not the best, but it's not the inn, and if I stay away from it at night, maybe Harry will give me a break. Of course I'm more worried about Sam, now. I don't know when he'll back down again.

I've been working with Colt and Harper -- mostly on my own so far. It's been good. It's a hard case -- missing girl, talking to her parents was difficult -- but it's probably good for me to be busy.

Going back a few days. There's a lot to cover, and I'm still reading up on some of it. I was right, the way I understood it, but that doesn't make it any better--

I'm getting ahead of myself.

Two nights ago, I went to the inn. Saw Lyla. I guess while I was in there talking to her (trying to get her to talk to some other girl she thought-- not important, don't want to think about it), Jackie saw us. I had no idea. I'd only seen her really briefly the night before - we're trying not to talk, I guess, or not to... not to want to get to know each other more.

She can't handle Harry. It's fine; I don't blame her for that, I'm not upset with her. It's fair. It sucks, and it's -- I mean, it isn't fair, but it is. How could I expect her to feel differently about that?

Anyway. We sort of started arguing -- I didn't think it was fair that she was upset with me about Lyla when it isn't me that knows Lyla -- and...

It's the first time I've blacked out around her -- around any of the people I know here. She punched Harry, attacked Lyla too. I'm not upset about that.

But she was just so upset. So upset, and all I could think about was doing something about this, so I can just have a normal f*cking life with normal f*cking problems, and--

It's called a Persecutor personality, from what I've been reading. Sam fits it, the little I've read so far. I want to figure this out before I write about what happened yesterday. It's important. It's a problem.

It's been almost two weeks since Sam really started acting out.

It was really, really hard. I'd been texting Jackie that morning (to make sure it was her that punched me -- I thought, maybe, we could both laugh it off), and it just didn't go well. She was so upset. So upset. And all I wanted was for them to go away--

Even getting that feeling now, the one I was getting then -- this buzzing, this chatter. She's dealing with it, alright? She's accepting it. She's not a threat. You know I'm not lying about it.

There. Thank you.

I struggled. I tried. Sam hasn't gotten to me in a really, really long time. But then he did, and--

I thought I could stitch the damage up myself, but there was no way. It would have been a terrible job, and I don't know if Sam even would have let me. Maybe he would have. I don't know.

So I called Jackie. And hours later, she came over. She never judged. She did what needed to be done. She asked questions, and I told her, and I wanted to tell her. I forget how young she is sometimes -- she really listens, really tries to understand. I don't know when I had something like that last.

I told her about Sam -- how he doesn't trust her. Doesn't trust me around her. He's only trying to protect me, protect her. I think she understands, at least as well as can be understood. I'm still trying to figure it out myself.

We went to the bar after that -- needed to get out of the attic (and maybe she didn't want to leave me there alone with him) -- Lyla was there. Of course she was. She was talking to Colt about Harry. Of course she was. And --

Lost time.

Jackie called me back. She's doing this so well. It's what I mean about her not seeming so young -- I needed her to take care of me, for Christ's sake. I needed her to tell me what was going on -- what had happened while I went away.

And after, she let me stay at her place. It was a little awkward -- weren't we supposed to not even be seeing each other at all? And now here I am, sleeping down the hall from her? But I needed it. I wouldn't have done well on my own, or in the Inn. It would have been bad, I think. I think she knew that -- know she knew that.

And since then, things have been fine -- on that front, fine, mostly. I've been staying with Jackie, things have been quiet (mostly -- Sam wouldn't shut up, but he's better now, fine now -- maybe trusts her, finally), only lost a few minutes here and there. It's better.

That Friday, we watched some movies together -- maybe I need to think about that a little more before I write about it. It mattered, it means something. Not just to me, but to Jackie, too -- and that means something to me, too.

Last week -- the beginning of it -- was hell. That's the only way to describe it.

I worked there for three days straight. A couple hours here and there to sleep, when I couldn't see straight anymore. I'd eat when someone reminded me.

I'm sure Jackie thinks it was that I was trying to find her brother and Harper -- and I was, on one level. I haven't told her it's guilt that motivated me, mostly -- I was five minutes away from the building when everything happened. I could have been in that wreck. I could have been dead. But I wasn't, and that left me to do everything possible to get people out alive, right?

I haven't told her. I won't tell her. There's no reason; she doesn't need to think about things like that, not after--

After the rumor started going around that Colt's body was been found, I had to tell her. I couldn't let her find out alone, just some rumor. And after I told her, I didn't go back. I stayed with her -- most of the time.

I mean, sure, there was that few hours I was working through a fifth of Jack by myself, and I'm not sure how much time I lost that night (Ted? it must have been, the note he left -- I'm keeping it with me; it's a reminder--)

But other than that, I stayed with her until they were found.

And it's fine. I mean it's fine in that it doesn't bother me that I took the time to do it -- it's awful that I just saw Ella in her, every moment, and I was just as useless this time as I was then.

They say history repeats itself. Maybe that's what he meant, don't eat yourself. Not a second time.

And then they were found, and--

I took Jackie out Friday night for her birthday. This little out of the way place I found that makes good Italian. It's not her thing, really, but it was nice. I think she liked it. I hope she did. She's more the party type, but after everything that had gone on, I thought it would be nice to go somewhere quiet, low-lit -- just get away from everything for a few hours. She looked gorgeous. Just talked, flirted.

She hasn't talked to her brother about us. I went to visit him and Harper with a bunch of the other Daniels girls, and it...

I've never really done family things, not big things. As far as I'm concerned, I don't have one besides Adam -- and I guess Ella, still. But after I went into foster care, I never had anything to do with family unti

Not good. Only a few minutes. Could be worse, I guess, but should keep track of these kinds of things.

And Ella's family, she wanted to get away from too. So it was just us two -- or three -- for such a long time. It's not that I don't like crowds -- I'm fine in crowds -- but it's just ... I'm not sure what. It isn't easy for me, to be around that, not when I'm personally involved -- and I am now, aren't I? I am.

I'd thought that since Jackie hadn't told him yet, we should be acting like we weren't anything, but at one point she put her arm through mine, put her head on my shoulder. That was enough for me -- f*ck it. If he has a problem with me -- and he does, I think; I really don't think that that was a joke, when we were leaving, about Jackie checking in, and that still really pisses me off --

But I'm not backing down from this. I really, really like her. I trust her. I'm not giving that up.

Besides, maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe it was a joke.

I need to work on these letters. I have no idea what to say to Adam. Keeps me up at night -- or maybe it's just missing him that does that.

Drinking a lot. Still don't want to think -- feel, don't want to feel.

If this is a test, I'm failing. Losing.

Tomorrow, sober tomorrow. Maybe.

Okay, it was really cold in the morning, and my back is killing me.

I don't regret it for a second.

I guess I can write about everything now.

Jackie and I split up. She came back from Canada on Sunday, and she just.... I don't knowwhat happened. She kept saying she felt too guilty about Adam (she talked to him!! He read my letter, he understands -- he told her he's going to write me and send it to me. Some days this week, that's all that's kept me going), and that she was a distraction. That she was somehow in the way of me getting home.

I tried to explain it to her, that she's not a distraction -- she's keeping me sane. I need someone like her -- a safe place. I can be alone -- I'm good at alone, really, I guess -- but I feel so much better with her. She told me I shouldn't feel better here, and I never got the words out right. Can't be motivated to do anything when I'm so miserable I'm way, way off the wagon -- or even when it just seems so hopeless, and I need to deal with that hopelessness alone. It was so good to be able to come home to her. We're good for each other, I know we are.

Okay, moving on.

I drank a lot. I missed her like crazy. I decided I needed to try going through one of those portals to get home. Trying to make them go away can take years and years. If she can't be with me because of Adam? Then I'll get to Adam.

Sober one night. Went over to her place to sign divorce papers (it was a good feeling -- don't want her in my life anymore). It turns out Ella gave her copies of Doc's notes from our off the record stuff, copies of some of the stuff I had in the trailer. She said she read some. Knew it was wrong, read anyway, stopped because it was overwhelming.

I could have been mad. (I am mad.) But I told her to read the rest. Maybe it'll help her understand that this is complicated, that-- I guess I don't know why, exactly. But I wanted her to.

We ate dinner together, and I... I just couldn't help it. I missed her, and I was hoping that maybe she'd thought about it in those few days, realized that she'd made a mistake -- I really pushed her. I feel a little bad about it now, I do. But god, I'd missed her.
I told her I love her. I've known for a little while, but the time never seemed right. I guess it wasn't right that night, either, but ... she needed to know. I don't regret that, either, telling her.

The portal. Nexus travel. Mages have told me not to do it. They must be able to sense that my thoughts aren't always mine. But I was desperate -- to get home, for Adam, but for Jackie, too. If I just can get to him, if I can make things better for myself, then she won't feel so guilty, right? She'll give me another chance.

I have to keep believing this.

It didn't work, the portal. I tried, and -- I think it was all in my head. It must have been.

I always hated Roland. I never knew why. Now I do. That's something else I don't regret, never forgiving him, even when--
The thing is, if I get rid of them, then I remember all that happened to me. Even just the little bit I saw -- I remember; I can't keep talking about this like it wasn't me it was happening to -- it still makes me sick.

It feels so strange, these feelings. To actually have them, to not go away and have someone else deal with it.

I don't think I can do it. I don't want to remember all that. Right now I don't have a childhood. I'm okay with that, if my other option is having one from hell. They just wanted to keep him safe -- keep me safe, me as a child -- and I don't want to undo that. I can't, can't hurt him -- hurt myself.

Of course, that means I can't get home through these portals, ever, unless I get them all on the some page somehow, if that's even possible.

I was pretty messed up after seeing all that. I hit my head I guess. I was not sober. And I just-- So I came back to Jackie's. She was at work, and I thought that, maybe, I could just... That I could leave before she got home. Take a little comfort from being in a space I was happy in, felt safe in, but not burden her any more than I already had.

I guess I fell asleep too long, because when I woke up, she was sitting behind me on her bed, asking me if I wanted to talk about it.

She stayed with me a little, but I dozed off again pretty quick once she was there. Woke up and she was gone.

I didn't want to be by myself just then, not with all the thoughts I had, so I went to the bar. She was there, of course.

I wanted to tell her -- needed to tell her. Not everything, not what I saw, but what it means for me and getting better. For Adam. Maybe for her, too.

And for some reason, even though we should have just gone inside, gone to separate beds -- she took me over to the hammock in her yard. We talked. I promised her, that I'd never leave without saying goodbye to her first. Maybe it was one of those promises I shouldn't have made, one I can't keep. But it felt right to say -- everything felt right about that night, the way she curled up with my arm around her shoulders. How we fell asleep with my hand in her hair and her hand over my heart.

She said we'd regret it in the morning. I don't know if she meant that because it'd be cold or because we'd have to leave that behind in the morning (but we don't, Jackie, I wish you could see that), but I don't regret it. Not for a second. Maybe she's changing her mind? Maybe, at least sometimes, we can do things like that? It isn't what I really want -- I want her, all of her -- and god, isn't that kind of funny, how that works? The first night we tried to stop all of this from happening, she told me she didn't know how she could be with me and feel like she didn't have all of me, and it must be some kind of poetic justice that the tables are turned now (even if this is her choice, and it never was mine)--

I just have a little hope. Another good memory to try to get me through when I feel alone. Maybe she'll want to make more of them. Have to hold on to that.

And on a completely different topic, I don't know what's going on with work now. I don't know what's going on with Harper. To be honest, I don't really trust either of them now, though at least I can understand what Harper did and forgive her for it (though if I can forgive her enough to trust her that much now? I don't know). At least she was just concerned. Colt... I can't even get into that.

Bright side, if I'm not working, I'll have plenty of time to try to figure out what the hell to do with myself.

Don't you get it, Jackie? You can want this to be not about you all you want, but it is, and it will be.

The way she pulled back after I touched her hand, like it hurt her, like it burned -- that hurts. But you know what, it burns me too. And I could tell, when I had her by the wrist later, the shiver, the goosebumps, her pulse--

I can't let go. How can I, when I know she doesn't want me to, deep down?

I've always told her it's hard for me to listen to what I should do when I know what she wants me to do isn't the same. It's no different here.

Still at her house, in the guest room. I don't think I really slept, but I thought a lot about if if she wasn't sleeping too, just down the hall from me. What might happen if I went to go find out if she was awake too -- what probably wouldn't happen, really. Shouldn't happen, but we both want to happen.

God, this sucks.

I understand that I need to be more careful and trust you. Can we work something out? What about the others, will they talk too? Sign something? I don't want you to go away, I really don't -- but can't we figure out some rules? For me too, for all of us.



i'll think about it. can't speak for the others. harry's promises probably aren't worth much. what makes you think you know what will work out for us? that's why we're here - because you don't know what's good for you.

No responses. Has me a little worried there's some internal discussion going n I'm not aware of. I know this is possible -- I've spent the last few days reading all about it -- but I don't know how to get it started. Did I push too hard too fast?

Can't say all has been quiet. Lost a lot of yesterday, from the evening until this morning. Woke up here alone, so I guess that's a plus, even though I know that doesn't mean somebody wasn't out somewhere.

Come on -- somebody, give me something?

your kidding, rite? no drinking, no drugs, no girls? i didn't know u were such a funny guy!! don't rly c anything good about agreeing so im gonna pass.



What's fair to you? How about for starters, come back home to sleep? Don't lose my wallet or my keys? Or phone? Or shoes? Because waking up somewhere weird without those things isn't fun for me, Harry. Can we just start with that?

I just haven't felt like writing.

Jackie went along with that dumb plan I had. It seems like months ago now, but I guess it wasn't even a week ago.

I didn't think about it really, what telling her that the sound of a strap was a trigger for Sam would mean -- what she'd think. It's hard for me, even, to accept what I saw as part of my own history. I remember next to nothing. Most of it doesn't even feel like it happened to me -- that I was watching it happen to somebody else. (Wasn't I?)

I thought it would be easy. I was really, really, really stupid.

For what it's worth, it worked. It's strange. It isn't fun. It's going to take a lot of getting used to -- and it's going to take trusting them, which I don't. I don't. It's true, I didn't like that she wouldn't put it down either,


it was more than not liking it. you were having an all out meltdown. and what would you have done if i wasn't there? curled up in a corner and cried somewhere like a little kid? and you say you can handle it? you both think you can handle it. it'd be adorable if it wasn't so f*cking stupid. and you think she gets it?



I know that I didn't handle it great. But like she said -- because I heard what she was saying -- it was my first time. It isn't going to go perfect the first time. And you didn't need to be such a dick to her, either. Don't ever hurt her again, don't ever touch her like th

I don't know what's more exhausting, that blackout up there or this argument in my head. Does this make me crazy?

Anyway--

It was strange, too, coming back to myself and being in control again -- I didn't feel like my body was mine at first. Don't like that either, but I can get used to it. I can.

I've lost a lot of time this week. Haven't gotten another chance. I don't really think that's fair. Sam? Or Ivan -- where are you?

The rest of the night... We were both just so shaken. I can't believe it almost got to where it did. She said she couldn't, because what if -- and the way she said it, it was the best rejection a guy could ask for. I guess.

I haven't had a warm shower all week, and the one I'm about to take is going to be just as freezing as the other I've-lost-track-of-how-many.

This sucks. I mean, it's good, really, really good, but ... it sucks.

I wonder how she's doing?

I've been reading a lot. I understand the idea of internal communication -- I'm trying. Maybe I'm not pushing enough here? Or maybe not everyone likes to write.

I keep seeing things like 'going inside' and 'internal landscape.' Sometimes it reads like I should actually be able to see them, like there's living space inside my head that they've taken up, and like I have some way of getting in there too. Talking with them. Seeing them. Interacting -- it sounds like it's being in some kind of dream that isn't one at all.

I've been hearing voices for weeks, been having blackouts for decades. People call me by names I don't know. I do things I would never do and I don't remember any of it. People write back in this notebook in handwriting that isn't mine. I know there are others here -- I've seen it happen; I saw it, Sam talking to Jackie. I saw it, Ted with Roland. I recovered it, Ted with Adam, with Carol, bits and pieces. I know that that wasn't me. None of it was. It's all inside.

So why is the idea of doing this more terrifying than any of the rest of it?

The thing that scares me more than anything is that little bit of time, those few seconds right after I wake up, where I don't know where I am, when it is. How long it's been. It's waking up and not knowing if it's been five minutes or five hours. Five days. Five years.

What if someday I come back and it's been so long that everything is gone again?

What if someday I don't come back at all?

Things are so, so good right now, so I don't know why I'm thinking this.

Or maybe it's because they are good that I'm thinking about it.

Or maybe it's because I have been losing hours and hours every day lately, and I don't know why it's happening. I'm just at home. I can't remember anything that could be triggering. It seems even more out of control than it's been even in the past. Can't make any sense of it.

I told Jackie not to worry about me. She said she trusts me. I know she does. I do too.

And she didn't say it, but I know she knows it as well as I do: it isn't me she has to worry about trusting.

Past few days have been busy and not, all at once. I'm gone more and more. It's getting really, really tiring. And worrisome. I get evenings. I get a few hours, here and there during the day. But yesterday I didn't even wake up until the afternoon, down by the docks. I went to bed, and I woke up there. That's new. That's worse. I haven't mentioned it to anyone. I'm hoping that it doesn't happen again.

I try to make the most of my time. I'm still trying to find them, but it isn't working. I'm trying to do what Harper asked and write something out about them, but that isn't working either. I gave it a rest today, and I was here all day. Maybe I'm not the only one that's a little resistant.

Jackie and I have been good. Still taking it slow. I took her out driving one night (and she was still dressed up for her girls night, and Jesus Christ--), and I went over to her and Chey's place last night for ice cream Chey made.

They're taking pole dancing lessons.

I think she's trying to kill me.

We have fun together. We flirt, talk. Touch a little. She drives me crazy, in the best way.

She should be over soon. She's been over plenty of times. It isn't like she doesn't know me already. I'm nervous as hell anyway.

I hope she likes what I got her. And I hope that everything goes smoothly. No visitors tonight. Please.

Part of me felt bad for not reading Adam's letter as soon as Jackie gave it to me. It isn't that I don't want to hear from him. I do. It just gets harder and harder to read about what's going on at home, how bad Ella is.

I hope Jackie doesn't think I don't appreciate it, that she's going every week to do this for me. I didn't have her read the last one he sent me, and I didn't even open this one until she left in the morning. It isn't that I don't want her involved -- I do, actually, I really want her to be involved -- but I guess I just don't want a repeat of before. I want to trust her when she says she means it this time, that she trusts me to do everything I can, that we can work through things together, but I guess part of me can't. Not yet. She said it was worth it last time, too, everything she knew we would have to go through, and then there were a couple of bad days, and that was the end of it. And considering her main reason last time was because of Adam?

It almost feels like lying, like I'm hiding it from her, how bad things are with him right now, but I just don't know if I can trust her. I want to. I wish I could. I really do. But I don't want to lose her again over something that I can't do anything about.

I'm starting to consider asking Amy to have somebody come and check out the house. But then what, he gets put in foster care? That could be bad too.

He asked me if he could come and stay here with me instead. I'm glad I followed my instinct, didn't read his letter at the bar, because that broke my heart.

I need to work harder. I don't know if I have more in me, but I need to find more somewhere.

Once again, I fall out of the habit of writing in here when I really need to be.

Will is here. I couldn't believe it -- can still hardly believe it. I haven't talked to him in years, but I'd heard things, here and there. He looks good. He must have an ear out for me, too, because he didn't seem at all surprised that I wasn't with Ella anymore.

He's here working, searching for a murder suspect -- I talked with him about the case though, and I like the guy for it too.

Even though we haven't talked in so long, it's really, really nice to have somebody else here from home. Even though, I shouldn't, it makes me feel less disconnected from it all.

I still haven't told Jackie about the money, about the note. We promised honesty, but I also asked her if she wanted to know everything -- of course she doesn't. Which is good, because I don't really want to tell her about those kinds of nights -- or mornings -- anyway. I feel sort of bad about even asking -- she got pretty upset -- but I needed to know where the lines are.

And now that I know, where does this fall? It looks bad, but it can't really be that, right?

So I know I should tell her. It probably isn't what it looked like at first, and Jackie said she wishes she could do more for me. I told her about going inside, about seeing the house. She's worried about me doing it, I know -- worried something might happen. Worried if I keep going, that ... well, worried that there's no telling what I'll find. She asked me if I went in the house if I'd remember everything, and I told her no. I sounded a lot more sure of myself than I felt. I really have no idea. And what if I do? Jesus Christ. I can't ev


Only half an hour. Better than it's been. Good things:

Jackie loved the cowboy thing. Really, really loved it. I owe Chey big for helping me get it together.

She loved it so much that she told me she wanted me to spend the night -- not that I haven't been, but not on the couch this time.

I thought it might've been a bad idea, moving too fast (take it slow, we said we'd take it slow), but all we did was sleep. Is it really that different if it's on my couch or in her bed?

It really isn't, but it sure feels different. It feels like a big deal. Maybe that's how we know we're doing this right, that we really are taking it slow.

I met another one of her brothers last night at Katt's big party. Ford. She didn't tell him that we're seeing each other, not even when he asked her straight up who I was, butit just wasn't the right time to. It was busy as hell that night -- she told me that that isn't how she wants to talk to him about me.

She's proud to call me her man, though. I treat her right -- we cherish each other, she says. And how can her brother really argue with something like that?

I don't worry much about that, about her family being okay with me (mostly), but it's just a little difficult for me. It's been so long since I've dated or had to worry about family like that, like having a girl's family approve of me. It wasn't something I worried about with Ella; it wasn't a factor. And the girls before that weren't very serious.

So it's fine. It'll be fine. Sort of nerve wracking, but it's fine.

I wish I could go to Georgia with them for Thanksgiving. Not because of the holiday (it isn't even real Thanksgiving), but to meet the rest of her family. Be a part of that, because I know it'd make her happy to have me there.

Someday. Keep positive.

Maybe they'll let me in today.

Real progress. Real progress.

I talked to Sam. It's strange to think -- I'm only just meeting him (sort of -- I guess more than anyone else, I know him best-- shotgun once, he writes back more than the others, and all the talking sometimes, the--

Today is going to be rough. Can already tell.

What I mean is, I'm interacting with him. So many other people have, know how he is, and even though I'm right there every time, I'm not there. It's strange.

He's angry. I've always known that he's angry. He's been angry with me. I know what kind of rage that is. I've been on the receiving end of it more than once.

I have to get to know them, don't I? Make them trust me? I have to listen. So I listened.

I don't regret anything that happened to Roland -- not what I did, not what I didn't do. He deserved what he got, and if God forgave him -- well, there isn't any God. And if there is, then Roland is burning in hell.

That hate is real. That much I know.

But her? Why shou



I guess that's something we'll need to talk about next time. Sometime.

Later that night I went out, met Will at the bar. We talked about his case a little -- I think I'm going to end up helping him out with it. It almost makes sense -- it's a Vancouver case anyway, right?

Killer's got a type, and that type happens to look like Jackie. It isn't anything I can't deal with, even if it threw me for a minute. Will gets it though -- gets that it threw me, and gets that he doesn't need to question if I can get over that -- gets it that I'm already over it. It doesn't bother me. Okay, it does, but not to the point of it compromising my judgment or being too much for me to handle.

Might keep just a little bit closer of an eye on her. A little.

She told Ford about us. He seems alright with it, though the age difference bothers him a little, seems like. I'm not worried about that. He stayed at Jackie's last night in the guest room, and I stayed in her bed with her, so apparently she's not worried about it either.

Kind of feel like I should do something significant for my last day of being forty-eight, but I've also got a bitch of a headache again and might just sleep most of the day.

Birthday night was great. Really, really, really great.

I know that they are probably watching, they probably know everything I do, but I want this to be mine, and I'm not going to write it here. It isn't like I might forget.

Except to say: don't lose this scarf. It matters -- it means something.

Things have been pretty settled, which means I need to try again, don't I? It means I'm not doing enough.

Allowed a little break to enjoy the weekend though, aren't I? Especially for a birthday?

I wonder what it was like, the one I missed. I wonder what happened that day.

I'm not going to pretend like everything is perfect. It isn't. For example, I still haven't told Jackie about that money.

But it's really damn good.

I feel guilty, sometimes, when I have good days -- when I don't push as hard as I can every day. When I take a day off from this. Is that right? Should I?

I need time off from it too, don't I?

I worry about Adam -- really worry. I thought Ella would pull herself together, clean up, after the divorce was final, but it doesn't sound like it. And that right there is why I feel guilty.

I'm doing what I can. I can't push so hard that I break. Talking to Sam--

It isn't something I can do all the time. It takes a lot out of me. Doesn't it?

I got a chance to spend some time with Will last night. He got divorced too -- still friends with Mel. I can't say I'm surprised about any of that.

He asked me if I've met Jackie's parents, if the age thing would be a problem for them. I had to be honest about it -- I really have no idea. She and I have only talked about it once, and once she said it didn't bother her, I stopped thinking about it (except sometimes, when something reminds me just how young she is--

I don't know, am I ever going to meet them anyway?

All this self-doubt is not normal for me. Maybe I'll play with Mason for a while.

We've been together for a month.

Sort of. Officially, yes, Thursday was a month since we had that talk, since Jackie decided she did want to start over and give this another try. And yeah, there were a couple of weeks where things were sort of weird between us -- trying to ignore how we felt (or me just being really, really drunk). But then there was some time that we may as well have been together -- that day at the range stands out. Two days, I guess. The handcuffs. All of that.

Even when we weren't together, I always knew she cared. Even if sometimes she's misguided in what she does, she cares.

I love her. There's no question about that for me. I've said it to her a couple of times, but both were when we weren't together, and I haven't said it since, because we're supposed to be taking this slow, right? Well, that's something I can physically control (though my landlord is going to start charging me for water, I bet, considering all the cold showers I take), but emotionally? How do I deny that? But I think it'd be too much for her -- I don't know if she's ready for that -- so I just don't say it. Just words, anyway. Whether I say them or not, I still love her.

We had a lot of fun on our one month -- shooting, chinese food at my place (she sucks at chopsticks), a couple of movies (Bride of Frankenstein -- she wants that happy ending for him). She bought me a tie, too. Promise of good things to come, she says. Can't wait until they do.

Friday we texted all day (what is it with us and texting?). She slept over (almost wasn't fair, what she wore, but like I'm going to tell her not to?), we slept in Saturday. I needed a day like that. Think she did too.

And now I've got to work to make up for the lazy day yesterday. She's at church -- good time for it.

As good as things are going with Jackie and I, I try not to lose sight of everything else. This bruise, the money, this unknown -- it's getting to be a long list of things to deal with, and I don't like that, having more questions than answers. At least I can give myself a little credit -- at least I'm looking for the questions instead of pretending like there aren't any.

That hate isn't dead. I want it to be. I wish it could be.

The idea that that's all it takes is really believing it? Really wanting it? And it's all forgiven? That he could be up there? Makes me sick.

Sleep isn't going to be easy, and it's going to be bad, if it even comes at all.

Saturday, November 24, 2012 -- late morning

It's been difficult. Really difficult.

What does that mean, that I'll hear from her sooner than I think I will?

I try not to listen. I try to trust her, and not

Yesterday, after I left her house, I tried to get a little work done. Paying work, detective work. Not the other kind. It's a good distraction at least.

Couldn't stop thinking about her, though. How hurt she looked. How upset she was. My hands on that girl, but I don't

If I can't even deal with this, and I don't even witness any of it, how is she supposed to? There's nothing for me to even forget. It's almost easy for me, almost. For her? And for her to do it alone?

I've offered to tell people before -- or for her to tell people if she wants. She's always told me that it's not her secret to tell -- that she can't force me to tell people if I don't want to. That I need to want to. Well -- I want to.

It was easier when I didn't know exactly what was happening. When they were just blackouts. I hated it, and it was hard to deal with, but knowing what's going on while I'm not here -- that there are others that do things like what Harry's done

I watch those movies, again and again. Night of the Living Dead. Frankenstein. And I think about it, how it is to be Ben-but-not-Ben -- how it is for her, for other people. How in those movies, do you shoot Johnny? Or do you run into the horde of ghouls with him? Is Frankenstein's monster something to pity, something to hate? Chase him with torches and pitchforks, or get angry at the injustice of it after it's over?

I told Chey. Maybe it was okay. It seems okay. I can trust her with it, and Jackie will have someone to lean on when things happen. Maybe I will have someone to lean on too, instead of always going to Jackie about it. Maybe I need this -- more of a support system. I've always avoided them before, because I don't want people to know. Don't want the looks -- don't want to have to explain. But maybe

Aren't they all part of my psyche, she said? Are they? I don't want them to be. Because that means there are parts of me that

Staying in today. Can I sleep you off? Will you stop then?

It's going to take time. That's what I have to keep telling myself. Time to get used to feeling this way.

It isn't like I can feel him there. It isn't like I actually have ever felt any of their presences. There's nothing physical about them. Even mental -- the only one I ever hear is Sam.

But it still feels different, physically and mentally. Something missing, and all this strange pressure in its place. I don't know how to describe it really. Jackie asked me if it was a heart hurt, and I don't think that's perfect (because that makes me sound like I miss him or something, and I don't), but I guess it sort of is.

It hurts worse than I told Jackie. Everything feels raw. Little things seem overwhelming. Staying in bed most of the day sounds like that's about all I can handle.

But I think that's okay.

Is he really gone? Or did I just lock him up somewhere? If I really can handle life on my own, will he stay gone? Or will he come back when he's recovered too?

Too much thinking this early in the morning. Back to sleep. No dreams last night. Was really nice.

It really didn't take any convincing at all. Jackie was so happy to hear that I was going to go with her. I did warn her, try to tell her that if things go back to how they were before, I won't be able to go, and she understands that. Wants me to be careful. But she trusts me when I say it'll be fine. I didn't realize how much that meant until it happened.

Still a few weeks away, so I have plenty of time to mentally prepare. It'll be good, though. She said her parents will love me -- that there's a really long list of things about me to love.

On a mostly unrelated note, I wonder if I really could use a secretary.

I guess it's been a while, hasn't it? A lot has happened but most of it I'm not going to write about. I'm not going to forget it -- any of it. And it's for me, not for them (if they're still here -- it's been over two weeks).

She makes me feel like I'm thirty years younger. Like I'm a teenager again. If somebody had told me that first night, after the stupid flirting with the cherry stems and me writing my number on her hand without really asking if I could-- If someone had told me that we'd end up like this, I wouldn't have believed it. That girl, with me?

After that many days at home with her, it's been sort of rough trying to get back into working. It's a hard case, too, the one I ended up getting on Friday at Lydia's party. I think it's something I need to do, though. Maybe there's a reason it's me he's asked.

I'm worried like hell about Adam. I'm starting to think that when I go with Jackie to Georgia for Christmas (when, not if -- I will be fine), that I'm going to fly back to Vancouver afterward. Can I really keep telling him to keep waiting if Ella is as bad as he says? I don't know what I'll be able to do when I get there, or how long it will take to get accomplished -- where I'll be living, how long I'll have to be away from here, from Jackie--

It's a lot to think about. It's a good thing I have a little time to figure it out still.

This could be it. That might've been my last night.

I don't like to be morbid. I don't like to think about those kinds of things -- prepare for the worst. But Jackie's worried about it too. I can see it in her face.

But I have to believe it'll be fine. Three and a half weeks. Nobody home but me. Everything feels tight inside; it's hard to describe. But maybe it's nothing. It must be nothing.

If you don't want to go to Georgia and Vancouver, tell me now. Please.

Nothing.

I'm trying not to doubt anymore around Jackie. I'm not even mentioning it, the bad possibilities. If something goes wrong, I don't want her to think it's because of something she said to encourage me. This is all me. My choice -- my choice.

I've been waiting months for this moment.

I'm ready. Because if not now, when?

The past couple of days have been great. Spending time with Jackie's family wasn't perfect, but there weren't any real problems, either, and I am really happy with that. I get along with her parents. The Christmas parties were fun. Hell, even church yesterday was fine. I wouldn't change a thing about any of it.

And I finally told Jackie last night -- or I guess really early this morning -- that I was going to Vancouver today. She wasn't surprised. It seemed like she already knew. She knows me as well as I know myself, I think, sometimes.

It was hard to tell her -- to shatter that little bit of total peace we had with each other -- but it almost felt like she knew I was going to tell her. It was the right time. And I stayed with her, in her childhood bed, until the sun came up, and then I kissed her goodbye. Drove her truck to the airport.

I don't know when I'm coming back. The plane lands in about an hour. I'll be home. I'll see Adam. I'll figure out how to get him away from Ella. Will I have to bring her to court again? Will she give him up? Will him just seeing me every other weekend be enough?

I want more than that, though. I don't want to be every other weekend.

Jesus Christ, I am so nervous.

It hasn't been all that long since I last wrote in here, but so much has happened. Always how it goes, isn't it?

Adam's already making friends at school. I'm relieved, sort of -- he's just shy a lot of the time, maybe not always very trusting (and I don't blame him for that at all), and he doesn't always make friends easily. Maybe it'll be easier for him here. Fresh start, right? No baggage about his past -- about me, and all that happened.

He stayed over at his friend's house on Friday night, which is great for a few reasons: not only is it good that he's making friends, but the kid and his parents seem like they're good people (even though at least the kid, Louis, is a wolf boy of some kind -- didn't ask for details). Maybe almost as important is that it gave Jackie and me a chance to have some time alone.

I didn't think we were due for any serious conversation, but right away, she's reminding me that we talked about not waiting to talk about things -- not to let them sneak up on us.

I didn't know where she was going with it at first, talking about me having Adam and her not having any kids. I thought maybe it was too much pressure, that me being a single dad with Adam here was more than she wanted. it seemed like she wanted to be involved with Adam -- she really is great with him, and it seems like she genuinely likes to spend time with him -- but maybe it was too fast. And then once I realized she was talking about wanting kids of her own someday, I thought--

But it's the opposite of that, really. She wants it to be me. She wants me to--

If it gets to that point. If nothing happens to split us up. This isn't a definite thing, and we aren't rushing anything. But we're on the same page, and holy hell.

I've loved her since before she broke it off with me (even if I didn't say it until then). It was fast for me, I know. But who else has ever really understood me the way she does? Who has ever been this stubborn and patient with me? I don't think that is going to be easy to find, somebody that can not only deal with all my sh*t but not look at me any differently for it. Somebody that's okay with keeping an eye on me when I need it but never makes a big deal out of it. She knows exactly what to do, a lot of the time -- and when she doesn't, she still tries, and she wants to know.

I want to make her better. She wants to do the same for me. That whole glow thing.

She told me she loves me.

When I went out yesterday to look at bigger places for Adam and me, I told the agent I wasn't interested in apartments anymore. I want a house. More room for the three of us, once I ask Jackie to move in.

Jesus Christ, I've been bad at this lately.

And I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be trying to get to know you, aren't I? That's hard to do if I'm not writing in here. But you all know how busy I am, right? Or some of you do?

I've been working a lot. A lot. I'm getting a lot more work than I ever thought I would. I should thank you for that, shouldn't I? Thank you.

I like being busy. It's a good distraction. So I like that I've got a lot of work to do, and when I'm home, I'm focused on Adam or on Jackie, when she comes over.

That's not good, though. I know that. I know I need to make time for me -- for us. So I'm sorry.

This thing with Richard, that should free up some time. It should make things easier. And I promise I won't just fill it by taking on even more cases, or spending more time with Jackie, or something else -- I will stop avoiding this. --you. Me. I know I need to. Is that why my days are getting worse? Missing lots of pieces here and there?

You can tell me. Am I missing something, or am I just not doing a good enough job?

I will do better. I want to do better.

That's not fair. Listen to you, play by your rules, and I get a chance, I thought? For things to stop being like this -- to be better. I know now, I know, I'll never be normal, but--

Just want to be better. There has to be some way to work on this.

How is it that I can be at your mercy? That isn't fair. I want my own


not ready.

Dear


I can't even start.

I've been trying all day. Hid out in the apartment the entire time Adam was in school -- well, when I was around, anyway. I guess it got to be too much, and somebody decided to go for a drive and lose my car somewhere. Car's still lost.

I'm in the office at home now. Still trying.

I don't know what to say. There are things I want to say, want to ask, but then I start to write them, and they don't feel right. It feels like I'm accusing someone of something they never did. She wouldn't do that to me, would she? Couldn't. Maybe that isn't a memory, maybe it's a dream. Something I invented. Because if


I hate this, I hate this. Not right now. Don't want to right now.

This is when I worry about the drinking in moderation thing. This is when it's a challenge.

Things have been not great.

I pushed hard on Friday. (Not getting into that, still too raw.) And I knew it was going to be hard. I knew it was going to be bad and that I was going to be in and out.

Didn't count on leaving. (Do I ever, though?) I especially didn't think anybody would end up at the bar. But Harry did. And at least he didn't find too much trouble, but he hit on Peaches, and that's bad enough.

Especially when after she and Jackie come back after a night out, Peaches just lays all that out there in public.

I'm not mad at her. How can I be? I just feel like sh*t about it. Jackie really likes her, and now there's maybe this weird thing between them. I don't want anyone to think I'd ever take advantage of Jackie like that. I never would. She knows that.

I guess that was one upside to it all, if I'm going to find one. Jackie handled it really, really well. She talked things over with Peaches, and I didn't ask exactly what she told her, because I kind of didn't want to know, but she did tell me everything is smoothed over.

I never thought I'd have somebody in my corner like that. Somebody that will fight for me like that, even when it means trying to explain something away that isn't even explainable without getting into a bunch of sh*t that can't be gotten into.

Lucky. I'm lucky. I know that.

I've been taking it easy for the few days since then. Even though it ended up not being me, it still took a lot out of me, because I was still the one pushing to get there.

I don't have any answers. Of course I don't. The only ones I have just


Right, I'm going to focus on work the rest of the day.

Things have been a little better, I guess. Or I'm just falling back into old habits, getting used to the blackouts again. Maybe that's not better after all.

I talked to Jackie. Told her about-- well, I didn't really tell her much of anything. I told her, no, my mother didn't care. Told her why Ivan exists, I guess -- the way I know he comes around. I couldn't tell her more, but I had her read what I wrote to her.

I couldn't talk to her about it as much as I wanted to. She wanted to know, and I guess I wanted to tell her, but I wasn't able. I lost time, right there -- those weird little blackouts, the short ones where nobody comes around, and I just go away.

'Go away.' Not come back. Didn't tell her that fear yet. I shouldn't. What good would it do?

It ended up okay. I wanted to drink, but I didn't. She didn't get scared after reading all that, didn't pity me. She never pities me. That's important. But she loves me, and she cares, and that's important too. I would say 'more than she knows,' but I think she does know.

It hurts her that I hurt, I think, but she never leaves because of it. Maybe she just holds on tighter.

Been feeling awful today. Sick. Hungover, head cold, something. I lost a lot of time yesterday afternoon, and I spaced a lot in the evening -- didn't feel all there. Sometimes I get that way, like I kind of feel like... I don't know how to put it really. Like a ghost, sort of. Not completely here. It was a weird manic version of that last night. Jackie came over this morning though, took care of me. Even came over after work and made dinner, helped Adam with homework.

I need her here with me. It isn't just that -- that I need the help. I can get by on my own -- have gotten by, for a few years now. But with Adam here -- and maybe even just with me trying to go through therapy, really trying to work things out--

But it's more than just that. I want her here, too. I want to be a family with her.

I'm going to have to talk to Adam about this when she leaves.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Things are better.

I never ended up calling her. I never texted her. I sulked a lot. Adam and I avoided each other a lot. He wanted to ask, never did. That still kills me, that isn't any better.

I started to be a little less angry, but a lot more hurt. More worried. Maybe she just wasn't going to call me, right? Maybe she was just angry. I shouldn't have left like I did. She's got a temper, and maybe that was too much.

But she showed up at my office yesterday. Right away, I knew she at least wasn't mad at me. 'How much do you hate me?'

It took some time to figure everything out with her. Sometimes I forget -- she's twenty-three. When I was twenty-three--

Well, when I was twenty-three, I was getting out of the military, doing everything I had to do to become a cop. In a way, I think I had it easier than she does, because I knew what I absolutely did not want to be. I wanted to be something different. I wanted to turn my back on who I was, on where I came from. I wanted life to start over.

Jackie's got it different. Her family is so important to her. Her roots are important to her. She wants to stay true to that -- and I never want her to feel like she can't, or like I'm asking her to not do that. I'm not -- I never did, never would. That was what hurt so much, was that she thought I wanted her to be someone new, to abandon all that.

She said she understands now. She says she gets it, that I'm not asking her to change -- that I fell in love with her, all of her, and that if she tries to put on a complete act, then that's completely defeating the purpose of bringing her along.

It isn't going to be easy, I don't think. She understands it in general -- she knows she's not the same crazy drunk loudmouth when we're on dates, or around Adam, or whatever, and that's fine -- but it's going to take time to convince her that she really can be herself at these elite things.

It's harder for her because she already knows who she is, I guess. It was easy for me -- still is easy for me -- because I make it up as I go anyway. I've been doing that for so long, it's almost like making it up, being who I need to be for what the situation calls for-- that is a big part of who I am.

I didn't get into that with her. I am sort of regretting even getting into it here.

Maybe I'm just a little distracted today.

We're supposed to have a redo of last Saturday night -- when I was going to give her the locket charm and ask her to move in -- this Saturday. I'm still debating if this changed things. I don't think it did -- I know I still want her in my life. I want to go forward. I think being skittish about it, this hesitance, is only temporary. We've fought before, but it doesn't usually go like this -- days and days without talking.

Maybe I should look on the bright side, though -- we got through it, and it's fine now. It's fine.

She came over last night after work because she missed Adam. She missed spending time with us.

I do still need to ask her.

April 7th, 2013

for?give - verb \fər-giv, fȯr-\

for?gave for?giv?en for?giv?ing

Definition of FORGIVE

transitive verb

1
a : to give up resentment of or claim to requital for <forgive an insult>
b : to grant relief from payment of <forgive a debt>

2
: to cease to feel resentment against (an offender) : pardon <forgive one's enemies>

It all came up so fast.

I just got back from a run. Jackie's still sleeping. Adam is too. We're leaving for Georgia in a couple of hours. Probably should wake both of them up, make breakfast.

Part of me doesn't believe this is happening. It almost doesn't seem real. How did I trick a girl like this into thinking I'm good for her?

And then I realize, there wasn't any trick. I've been honest with her -- more honest than I am with almost anyone. She's seen it all, everything, and she's never afraid. She never wants to leave. Even when she did leave me, she didn't want to.

Sometimes I wonder if it's only because the two of us are stubborn that we got to this point. Stupidly stubborn? Maybe. She's young and headstrong and it's hard to talk her out of something once she's made up her mind. I think the only thing capable of doing that, convincing her she's wrong? Is her heart. And through it all, I'm pretty sure hers always told her the same thing about me -- the same thing mine always told me about her.

We always came back together, no matter how hard we tried to stay apart. I need her. She said it herself, that even though maybe I'll never be whole again -- maybe will always have missing pieces --she just wants to make those pieces of me shine. Anybody else would want me fixed. That she understands that, that that may never happen, and she's okay with it-- that means everything.

And all I've ever wanted, from the very beginning, was to make her shine, too. Make her glow. Try to repay her for everything she's done for me, even though I never could.

We're good together. I know a lot of people don't think that, don't see it, can't get past the age, or the divorces, or whatever -- hell, we doubted it ourselves, tried to talk each other and ourselves out of it, because there were so many strikes against us, right? So many reasons why it shouldn't work, could never work.

But it does work -- incredibly, amazingly, as close to perfectly as I could ever ask for -- and even though I'm nervous as hell, I'm excited, too. I want to make her my wife.

I need to get on with this day. Please stay quiet, all of you? Please let me enjoy these couple of days. Let her enjoy them.

Hilarious. The last bit I wrote in here. Really funny.

It isn't enough, that Jackie's falling apart after last night. I'm trying to be there for her. I'm trying to make it better. I stayed home from work -- and thank god, the first thing she said to me this morning when I woke up, with this sad, broken look on her face, was, "Stay home with me, sweetheart." Thank f*cking god. Because I wasn't about to leave anyway, and I didn't want to have to fight with her over that. Didn't want her to insist that she's fine, that I can go, that I can leave her alone for the day. Because she's not fine, and I can't leave her alone for the day.

I made breakfast for me and Adam. He knows something is up, asked if she was sick. I half-lied and told him sort of. He didn't press it, even though I know he can tell I wasn't telling the whole truth. I don't know what to say to him half the time these days. I don't know if it's okay to keep sheltering him, or if I need to just start telling him everything. I tell him a lot, because he deserves that from me, but he's twelve. He's a child. I don't want him to grow up too fast.

Christ, like I haven't forced him to do that already?

Jackie's not really eating. She does this when she's stressed. But I got her out of bed eventually, told her we should go outside and plant those flowers we bought over the weekend, the ones that remind her of the terrace we had in Italy. It's probably the best thing I did all day, getting her outside for a little while, letting her do something physical and a little monotonous, and something we could do together that made it a little less obvious I just didn't want to take my eyes off of her.

She took the world's longest shower last night when we got home. I thought I heard her crying, but I'm not sure. I just sat outside the door, in the hallway, feeling useless.

So then there's that -- useless. Yes, yeah, go for it, Sam. You want to write it down instead? Maybe then you can stop repeating it over, and over, and over, and over--

No? Right, you'd probably rather I stay here, because you can't keep at me if I go, right. Right.

So Sam tells me-- well, he tells me a lot. But the things I'm on the verge of believing--

Coward, useless. Weak. F*ckup. What does she see in me, right? Because I didn't even do anything. Couldn't do anything. Didn't want to? I did want to, just didn't let me. Can't handle it, the pressure. Too weak.

There's other things too -- worse things. More dangerous.

I'm trying not to think about it. I'm trying not to believe him, that she's glad he took over, because I wouldn't have done it right. I wouldn't've saved her. I'm trying not to think about it because it's going to drive me crazy. Because I don't want to be a danger to myself, so if I just ignore it--

I need to stay strong for Jackie. Need to stay sane. Not talk to the walls. The voices in my head.

Where his thoughts end and yours begin, right? Where's the line?

She's fine. I'm fine. Everybody's safe and fine. It's all fine.

May 18th, 2013

I've never liked roller coasters.

I don't know what got into Jackie last night. It was just a damn picture. Yes, sure, I'm sure she wasn't expecting to see it, how happy the three of us looked, but--

Just a picture. It doesn't mean anything.

She lost it. I know it's just because she's traumatised, getting over what happened. It's okay. I mean, it's not really okay -- it actually really bothers me, the sh*t she said about Ella; I've never seen her be vicious like that, and especially not about someone that is so important to me -- but I understand. I forgive her. She's not in a normal headspace. I get it.

And she pulled back when I started to leave -- not when I started to leave, but when somebody else started trying to come out. When I started to leave, she just freaked out more.

I'm trying to just let it go. I'm hoping she realizes that she overreacted. I'm hoping she feels guilty about what she said about Ella and is just too proud to apologise to me. I can be okay with that.

Either way, I'm not going to bring it up. I made it clear that I wasn't going to tolerate sh*t like that from her. I'm not going to stick around while she says things like that. Yeah, we got divorced, but that doesn't mean I don't love her. It doesn't mean I don't feel for her still. I do. All the struggles she has, the setbacks and relapses -- I feel for her. I feel guilty about them. I don't blame her for them. It would be hypocritical of me if I did.

Maybe some day Jackie will get that. Maybe someday I'll talk to her about it. If I'm lucky, it just won't come up again.

Who am I trying to kid, though -- everybody knows I'm not that lucky.

I've been so bad about keeping up with this lately. I'd like to say it's because I've been so busy but... that's a bad excuse. I should always find time.

Jackie and I went through a little bit of a rough patch. Nothing horrible, nothing we didn't handle, but she's never told me to sleep on the couch before (even if she took it back -- for Adam's sake, she said, but who knows if that's really why).

I think it's hard for her to understand how Ella still fits into my life. Hell, sometimes it's hard for me to understand completely, so I guess I can't completely blame her? But still -- it wasn't like she didn't trust me; I know she trusts me. But it's something like it.

I think it's a sign of her age, maybe, that it was hard for her to understand how Ella and I could not work as a couple but could still have some kind of positive relationship. She gets it now, though, I think. It was sort of a jerk move for me to pull, giving her sh*t over texts for hanging out with a guy she used to date while she was visiting her parents in Georgia, but it got my point across. We haven't brought it up since, but maybe we don't need to. She gets it.

Other than that? Things have been...

There's nothing new.

Adam is with Ella for about another month. I miss him like crazy, but it's not as bad as it was before. It's easier, knowing he'll be back, and be back pretty soon. Ella gets him for his birthday, but that's alright. We already talked about it, and he'll be here for his next one.

So that means Jackie and I have had a lot of time together.

Is it healthy, what we're doing? I think it is. I'm pretty sure it is.

And like either of us would want to stop, even if it wasn't?

Some other things are lingering, but I'm just trying to ignore him. Them, ignore them. It's getting harder to do, but I'll manage. I will. I always do.

Losing it a little. A lot.

I slept in the apartment the past two nights. Shadow came with me. It's like he knows something is wrong, somehow, like he's more a shadow than usual. Like he's patiently waiting for me to... I don't know what. To come back to myself a little more or to totally lose it.

I'm already unstable. Being told I'm stalked doesn't help. Normally I'd probably tell Jackie, but not this time, not while she's away. I don't want her to rush home for.. what? Maybe nothing? Or will she become my shadow too?

I have too many of those already.

This is my favorite time of year, when it cools off a little, gets kind of crisp in the morning and the evening but it's still warm if it's sunny during the day. Reminds me a lot of home.

I haven't been good about finding a shrink. I've been busy -- with work, with family, with getting Jackie to relax -- and being busy means it's easier to ignore the things I shouldn't ignore. It's not that I don't see him -- I do -- but he hasn't done anything more than be there when other people are around. I wonder if that means only I can see him. I wonder if that means it's all in m

I know. He's real, I know. Stop lying to yourself, Ben.

We have a name for the baby, and it's perfect. She's perfect -- the version of her we met is perfect, anyway. And they're all still here, but it's fine. It works. It isn't a problem.

I want to get there. I need to get there. Not for me, but for my children. I don't want them to grow up scared or worrying all the time like Adam is now. And I know I can't go back and fix things with Adam, but maybe this will help. It can't hurt, right?

I bet it can. I bet it will. But it's something I have to do.

Extra switchy lately. Not for long amounts of time, either, but in ways, that's worse . More disorienting.

Sometimes I miss the days when I was resolved to just ignore this when it happened. I noticed it, of course I did, but I just went on the best I could. Everything started to fall apart when I started seeing DiSilvio.

Maybe it didn't. Maybe it was always this bad but I was just better at lying to myself.

I wonder, sometimes, how obvious it is to others. My excuses -- they aren't usually good ones. People don't push, but they must know there's something not right. Something wrong.

Some days are worse than others. The good ones are when I can forget what I am -- only part here. Part ghost. Part dead. When I can forget all that, when I'm with Jackie or Adam, when I'm preoccupied, when he isn't here, it's better. I can forget. Things can be good.

Today's not one of those days. I have a feeling.

I think it'd be alright if I stayed home with Jackie all day. We have more decorating to do.

I'm going to pretend like I don't know. What good is it to know? To know I'm not


Tonight's an important anniversary for Jackie and me. The night I thought maybe she felt it too -- really felt it. That she understood, no matter how hard we tried to stay away from each other, we'd just keep coming together, one way or another. Like it was fate. Meant to be. I don't know what she was thinking that night, if she realized it then, but I did. And I thin, at the very least, it made her think that maybe--

I need to get some work done at the office before I get some work done at the apartment before I go home and spend the night with her.

Keep going.

I've not been writing much lately, and it means I'm falling back into old patterns. Lots of lost time. Working maybe more than I should.

Even at home -- her grief, I don't handle it well. What I mean by that is, I lose time around her. It shouldn't surprise me. The same thing happened with Ella and me. And them. Somebody doesn't like women like this.

I do what I can, and the losses could be worse. Could be longer. I don't even think they talk to her. Maybe there is a god.

She feels well enough to commit to dinner Sunday for our six month anniversary. Little victories.

Her family has been really present during this, and it's helped incredibly. I don't


It was nice to have everyone over the other night. Coming home to that scene, Jackie and so much of her family in the great room playing Monopoly or whatever it was -- I'm glad she has that. Maybe that's the bright side to all of this -- I'm starting to believe that I have some of that too.

It was a joke. I don't have wings at all.

Jackie's stuck at home for the next couple of weeks while her ankle heals. I'm torn between staying at home and babying her, just really doting on her, and holing up in my apartment to work. I've been choosing a lot of the former. Part of me is glad for that. It's what I should do. I've always been good at taking care of her. I should be even better at it now. Giving me a princess.

But part of me is disappointed in myself, too. I promised. I promised. And I'm sorry.

If I live like this, is it okay? Maybe that's what I should be sorry for -- for thinking that it could be. For letting it go on like it is.

She's perfect.

During hard days, bad days, I need to remember this.

Jackie did so well -- is doing so well. She got through a really long labour and only yelled at me a few times during. Didn't take it personally -- if she wasn't hurting so bad, her bratty sarcasm when I was being encouraging would've been pretty funny. (Okay, it still was funny.)

But now that we're home, everything is just... It's like a dream. It's like some dumb perfect dream. Lily is beautiful, Jackie is a natural, really -- and she's beautiful too, beautiful to watch her be a mother to our daughter. I love her even more now. Didn't think that was possible. Even Adam is more cheery than he's been in weeks. Miracle.

I usually am pessimistic about things like this. I don't let myself get too comfortable. Things get taken away from me so easily, so quickly. But I'm letting myself want this. I'm letting myself believe it could stay like this. Maybe I get a happily ever after after all.

It could be. Things are so quiet in my head -- it could be.

Is this all it takes? Being at peace with myself? The pieces I've found might never go back together, but that's okay. If there's one thing Jackie's taught me about myself, it's that it's okay to be broken. It's okay to not be whole. I'm here and real -- and I'm good. I am good. I deserve this, and I can have this -- a family, a wonderful son, a beautiful daughter, a wife I never thought I'd find.

It's too good to be true, but it is. It's real.

And I don't question that anymore.

Lily is almost two weeks old. Every day, I'm thankful for her. Every day.

I'm going to miss her, when I go back to work. I'll just have to make the effort to be here when I'm here. I don't want to miss this, my little girl growing up.

I want to be a better husband to Jackie than I was to Ella. To be a better father to Lily than I was to Adam.

Don't we all want that, though? To be better, to make less mistakes, to fix our flaws as we move along?

It might not even be completely accurate, what I first wrote. It isn't that I want to be better to Jackie than to Ella, or better to Lily than I was to Adam. I just want to be better, completely. I got this second chance (in more ways than one) -- I want it to be worth it. I want to prove I deserve it. I do deserve it. I deserve to be happy too.

I sort of invited Ella here to Rhydin to visit. Nothing set, nothing even close to concrete -- good thing, because I haven't mentioned this at all to Jackie yet. The last time I tried to talk to her about Ella, it turned into one of the worse fights we've had. I almost ended up sleeping on the couch. (Didn't, because we never do that, but it came damn close.)

Maybe I should wait to mention it until I hear back from Ella. If she isn't interested in visiting, then I can just avoid that conversation altogether, can't I?

And god knows I'm a master at avoiding.

I don't know what's worse -- when I can hear them or when I can't.

Not that I ever hear them. It's never really like that, like schizophrenia, like auditory, like a hallucination.

Your thoughts end and his begin. Like that.

I went years without them. Years and years. Never heard a thing - never thought a thing.

Maybe that was why, when they came back, I could deny it so easily. Just blackouts. It had gotten so bad at the end of it the first time, hearing them all the time, that it couldn't come back so silently, right?

And then there's



Okay.

I never know if it's paranoia or if it's true or if maybe, just maybe, I'm finally winning. Maybe it's a part of the process. Maybe. Maybe. If there's even a process at all. As if I haven't abandoned it completely.

Hunter and Knox are both up. Good distraction.

A name is just a name.

Things only mean what you make them mean.

Except for what they really mean.

He



I wish it was different. Wish I was. Wish I was.

But I am, aren't I? I am.

As real as you are. And he is. I had proof.

But at the same time, it's all in my head. Everything is. Even



I've been in the apartment more and more lately. Waking up there in the middle if the day.

I just need