Healing
~~~~~
Yeah, I know you're exhausted. I know you don't have any more energy to give him. There's nothing I can do to help except watch while you both rest, and wait for the monkey to come back, and try not to worry.
Damn, I wish I wasn't out of cigs. Oh, I wouldn't smoke where someone's healing anyway. You know you can trust me on that.
You're right, it would help to have someone else around who could mend broken bodies. Can't argue with that. But you can't argue that's not the only reason you think about that pretty chemist. And you do pick the pretty ones, I'll give you that. But things are a bit too... complex... between you two, I think. I've seen the way you look at her. You know your eyes always betray you.
Sure, sure. Close those eyes and give me that practiced smile, that disarmingly self-conscious little laugh. I'm not buying it, and you know it.
Women. How is it that we both think that women could heal what women have done to us? Ah, that's not what I meant. I know you don't blame her, you can't. I could never blame my stepmother either. But we have these scars, these wounds that won't heal because of women, and yet we turn to women to try to fix it, or at least take away the pain for a little while. Are we really just hurting ourselves more? Yeah, probably.
You know me better than anyone, and I guess I know you fairly well by now, too. Sometimes I think we could maybe find some real healing in that, if we'd let ourselves. But it's hard to offer comfort when you're over there and I'm over here, and between us is him, the focus of all your energy. But I guess that's the way it always is now, isn't it?
Try to get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up.
--
Written 1 March 2005
