shot in the head - but it just grazed me.

I went to Landrys last night after work. We both had intentions of organizational grandeur... specifically moving things out of her studio so AD could move in there this weekend. Landry made snacky pasta sauce, we got sucked into watching someone ELSES sucking chest wounds (although that was the least of her problems post cougarbobcatmountainlion attack since her husband was fainting in the ER and everyone started taking care of Mr. Helpful while her face continued to fall off (and don't get EITHER of us started on the ugly conjoined twins....). Anyway... we moved SOME stuff.

What was my point... oh yeah. Landry and I are in a lazy, humid, dusty, hot, and angry at shitty TV and fainting people who DONT have sucking chest wounds mood... and all of a sudden noises came from the street that made all three of us jump (Breakfast was helping us by getting in the way of moving)... and jump not in a startled "ooo, what was that odd noise" but body crouching "Gormley - get away from the window" jumping. There was this funny odd moment soon after of Breakfast sitting next to Landry (instantly reassured by her hand/calm as I usually am) and I was standing there with them as car alarms started going off all over St. Johns... For the first second or two we were sure they were 'normal' noises... then I thought uhhh... gunshots?... then we started seeing the lights flashing - reflected and bounced back and forth across the windows on either side of the street until they found their way into her living room. Fucking fireworks... but I don't think either of us could possibly explain how fucking LOUD the echoes were. Blood-pounding loud.

Then I had this moment as Landry leaned out the window to try and see them and invited me closer where I realized I had been blindsided, and shot, by fireworks this year when I have been dreading July 4th. I was stunned and backed away from the window without her needing to tell me to this time. I saw a reflection of one in the glass and it was enough to strike me dumb. numb. fight or flight.

July 4th of last year found me on a beach in Point Pleasant where I have spent countless July 4ths curled up under a blanket in the cool damp air with my sister, or family, or friends watching fireworks over the ocean. And this year as it approaches I am filled with dread. Dread that something I once loved could be the last straw that pushes me to have that tasty nervous breakdown we've all been helping me avoid.

A year ago was the last time everything was fine.

FINE. Happy girl, perfect life, curled up with my sister and parents watching fireworks looking forward to traveling back to Boston to curl up with my husband... and not 5 seconds after I walked through the door in Boston a few days later everything unraveled. Really fucking quickly.

So fireworks have become my milestone... a milestone I am terrified of. And a milestone I am angry about. My favorite, comforting, most beautiful memories ruined for now until I reclaim it. Just not this year. This year I want to crawl into a hole. I had a funny dream about watching the fireworks here in NYC with Landry along the river. Packed with people, and I fucking LOST it. And then Landry was there, with AD and C which seemed an odd group all together... but I suppose it makes sense from the pieces everyone is fitting together... and the three of them were hugging each other over me. Keeping people and sound out... keeping me from being pulled apart by flashes of light over nasty, disgusting, and unswimmable water.