Loving the fight

13❦

13

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Blake woke me up with dinner in bed but breakfast style. The plate was full of waffles, bacon, eggs and fruit paired with a mug of hot cocoa.

He must have gone to the store or ordered ingredients to the house because I know there wasn't bacon or fruit in this house when I left. I know that because I ate the rest of the grapes while I was sitting at the kitchen island worried out of my mind yesterday.

We spent the rest of the day talking about what happened with his dad showing up and how that caused him to distance himself.

He told me about his conversation with his mom and how it crushed him. He let me in on all his inner torment and didn't hold anything back.

He cried in my arms as he told me about how he realized his mom never really loved him like he thought. How she didn't turn to drugs when he was a teen, but that she was a drug addict his whole life, he just didn't realize it.

He completely broke down when he explained that his mom took him as a sick sort of revenge on his dad. Because all this time there was a man out there looking for him, wanting to be there for him. But he was led to believe that Peter never wanted him.

I think parents like Blake's mom and mine should be charged with murder, because they killed our childhood, and the person we could have been.

Where would Blake and I be if we were not forced to go through all the things we did? I love the person Blake has become despite all that has happened, and I love the person I fought to become.

But how wonderful would it be to not get woken up in the middle of the night because of a nightmare that just won't leave me alone? Or the constant fear that I'm not enough. The scars that litter my body from the beatings I took wouldn't be there.

Maybe I'd have scars from learning how to ride a bike, or falling out of a tree. Not from being drug through broken beer bottles or pushed down the stairs.

What would Blake's life be like if he didn't have to fight his whole childhood to stay alive? Would he still have gone into fighting for a living? Or is that just all he knows?

All I know is he wouldn't be curled into my body asleep with tears drying on his cheeks.

Maybe we would still have found each other. Maybe I'd be an artist and Blake would have come to one of my showings with his friends. I love who we are both separately and together, just as we are. But I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't change it if I could.

But the harsh reality is that I can't, so I hold Blake close to me as he sleeps, trying to bring him any comfort that I can.

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"I swear I'm wrapping up everything as quickly as possible. I should be back for good within two weeks." Bella booked the last plane ride possible to get her back to work on time. She's only going to be able to sleep on the plane and go straight to work but she refused to leave any earlier.

I think she misses us just as much as we miss her. So this time all three of us came to see her off. "Can't I just come with you?" I grumble. I miss our brunch dates and everything else we do together.

"Hey!" Blake playfully snaps from beside me. "The fuck? I oppose anything of that sort." His finger hooks around my belt loop. It's something he started doing a while ago to stop me from randomly wandering off.

I guess I have a habit of seeing something and making a mad dash for it. Blake explains it like I'm an unstable squirrel that's going to get run over by a car.