Derailment

Last week I fully expected to die of severe flu. For three consecutive nights I had a fever of 103 degrees. The baby elephant on the chest and the stopped up cough that ends in dry heaves. Pinprick joint pain. The massive head where every heartbeat can bring tears to your eyes.

I guess I knew I wouldn't die but it didn't stop me from wishing for it. Having lived I can now write about the D-train derailment.

I had a conversation with D-train's dad to thank him for his assistance the night of the end and to confirm I had submitted the request to access the funds to repay him for his loan for the down payment on the house, and finally to beg him to reconsider their decision to not allow D-train back. As expected, he asked what I was talking about. Had I not offered for him to stay until the end of December out of the goodness of my heart? Is the goodness of my heart manipulation and coercion? No, of course they did not turn their parental back on their son. He promised to discuss the issue over their Sunday dinner (which Osho and I miss deeply). D-train did not return to my house that night or the next. The next day he phoned and asked if he could briefly stop by and pick up a few things. I warned him that Osho and I were both down with a severe flu and recommended that he didn't risk contracting it by coming to the house. He said it was important and could not wait. I relented and caught Herb Chambers and we both holed up in my bedroom upstairs where Osho was in a fever induced near coma. D-train arrived to retrieve his Xbox. I may go to hell for hoping that he is prostrate with a delusional fever as a result of this most important visit.

The segway - I am in love, enamored, beside myself with joy in my home. I look around and plan redecorations, purchases and colour swatches. I lay in bed smoking my nightly pinner and imagine the things I am going to do, plan the parties I am going to host, cook meals I don't know the recipes to yet. I am giddy with the anticipation of being completely and fully in charge of both my money and my home. And then I tuck in and switch off the lamp.

I lay there in the middle of my pillow top king sized bed joyfully at first. And then I hear something. I explain it away to myself as the birds on the main floor, the cooling and shifting of the house in the November night, an air bubble in the filter of the aquarium. Briefly I rest until I hear another sound. Despite Herb Chamber's protests I rise and check Osho, turn on the light in the entry and gaze out the side windows beside the front door, turn on the motion light by the patio doors in the dining room and look out over the backyard. I check all the door and window locks. I check the inner doors which are to be closed - the office, the basement. I check the door which is to be closed at all times - the door of the room where D-train's belongings are stored - closed.

I take a SleepEasy and grab my Ipod and return to bed, blocking out those sounds and the restlessness. I sleep.

And every morning the door which is to be closed at all times is open.

D-train's last stop

Since late May, my partner D-train has been going on wicked benders and narrowly averting disaster. I guess his "I'll never drink again" vow had an expiration date. It began with the day that my offer to purchase a home was accepted and preparing to go to a BBQ to celebrate, he pleaded with me to allow him to have one beer. I relented, and I have no idea how many he had. But he misinterpreted this as permission to continue drinking at will.

His drinking binges since were almost catastrophic. He almost sabotaged me getting my damage deposit back from my last rental house. He almost ruined Abigail Road's bachelorette party. He harassed Osho and I by phone on one binge by calling home every twenty minutes to give us an update on how inebriated he was getting and on what, forgetting the first call where he claimed to be working late. His next bender he took to another city so I would not have to witness it. And his last has destroyed everything we have been trying to build.

Last Friday I was tucked warmly into bed. Adequate rest is the only thing that makes a Saturday shift bearable. At 4am I awoke to a ruckus and found him coming through the front door with a case of beer and four complete strangers that he had met at the bar and claimed were 'the best guys he had ever met'. And I was enraged.

A drunk of his calibre is a target for opportunists. These were people he had met in a scuzzy nearby bar and decided to bring home, intentions unknown. They could have intended to roll him, to rob us, to club him over the head leaving me to contend with them. I made no secret of being enraged and within the hour they all departed.

The chaos that followed cannot be described - at least not by me as it all still seems like some terrible nightmare or an episode of 'Intervention'. I was terrified. After degrading every aspect of my character he began with the threats to harm and destroy. Maybe I panicked. But I knew I could not handle it anymore, as by then it was 5am and I was due at work at 8am. I had to make a decision to either call the police or his parents. I did not want to get him in hot water with the cops and truthfully I did not want my brand new neighbors to witness that either. So I called his parent's house and his dad agreed to come over.

Daddy arrived and hugged and coddled him. Rubbed his back. Gently explained that he was not making any sense and should stop drinking. The bottle count revealed that in that hour and a half he had consumed 9 drinks. Daddy stayed for about an hour. I stayed up in my bed chain smoking, watching the digital minutes tick by. Finally I went down and asked his dad to please just take him to their house. They BOTH told me to leave them alone, so I did. At the end of the hour his dad left D-train here with me after he promised to not hurt or verbally abuse me. I was beyond shocked. But D-train kept his promise and instead pissed all over the place in the downstairs bathroom then passed out on the couch.

The next day I was grateful for work, to occupy my mind and time, to pay for all the things I would now be paying for on my own. I had no doubt but I was not ready to face him, so instead a friend and I went out to a cabin where a couple we know is staying. We drank wine, ate fantastic food, and talked and sang the night away.

He avoided me for another two days, leaving only a warm spot on the couch when I would arrive home, hiding in his designated bedroom. Finally on Tuesday he approached and asked if we could talk before Osho came home. Thankfully during this entire drama Osho was with his dad. Then he just stood there and looked at me. So I offered to start the conversation, and advised I was arranging to access the funds in the amount he (his dad) had contributed to the purchase of the house and that he needed to start looking for a place to live. In the meantime, he would have to stay with his parents.

He looked haggard and like a stranger. He said he had no money to move and that his parents would no longer allow him to stay with them. I will be checking the validity of this statement when I make the arrangements to repay his father. I said he could have until the end of the month. He said he needed until the end of next month.

I know his parents said nothing of the sort as they have been enabling him since this started when D-train was 13. So I expect as soon as I can access the money, he will start the move.

Osho is heartbroken, but not nearly as much as last time. And I am empowered. And embarrassed. And I regret that I did not stick to it last time and not put Osho through all this again. But there is no protecting him - this is only the beginning of his many heartbreaks and disappointments, as all of us know. But to me the future looks beautiful. I am not afraid.

My most sincere thanks to Laurie, Tara, Ben, Barb and Tina for seeing me through. I love you all.

farewell sweet prince

what I wanted to say -

I have thought about you every day of my life since the one when we met. Not always in a flattering fashion, often with clenched fists and teeth. I can't explain what became of us. I can't pinpoint the end. I know when it was officially supposed to be, immediately upon entering my new life free of the love/hate balancing act, free of drama, free of baseless accusations, free of limitless demands. So why do I miss you still? And when we meet why, why do we digress to that same shameful place that defined us then? Why do we return to what drove us apart? It seems now it was more than the gravity of lust combined with incompatibility. It was much more like a drug, a fierce magnetism, a very nearly unstoppable force. It is best that you go with or without the repairs on us having been done, with or without the attempted friendship, with or without a forwarding address. Events can't be undone, words can't be unspoken. Our definition then defines us now. What's broken is broken and each of us has a constant companion akin to regret.

what I said -

Farewell sweet prince.

The drama

Tits and gifts buy a young man's soul
but only for a time.
Tits and gifts may twist his wits
but only for a while.