Waving Not Drowning

We just don't understand each other, I guess. What do you want from me? Erik was detached, barely repressing his thinly veiled irritation with Lindsay. It's been going on for months. The same argument, back and forth, circling down the drain, an endless spiral of  miscommunication. So decayed it's coming apart in pieces. Wow. Just wow. Lindsay has no other words. A year of hoping against hope he'd come around Lindsay is realizing that it's over. Erik is in it for Erik and Erik alone. And the booze. Lindsay's fallen apart physically, her body shut down months ago and she's muscling through day to day trying to stave off her own implosion. The wilful self destruction of their lives. So this is the way it ends, not with a bang, but a whimper. The end of the what ifs, the could be's, the happily ever after, like peeling back layers of newly formed skin on the scab that just won't heal. They're too far gone to find the horizon and get back to an ev...

It's been one of those weeks. Lindsay's been under deadline stress hell and Erik, well, Erik's just been under. More than usual. The 45 year old bottle of scotch he brought back from the working slash golf weekend is three quarters spent and their present plans for house hunting have fallen by the wayside. Things have been coming to a head for months now and just when Lindsay thinks she's reached the precipice, a subtle shift happens, so slight it barely registers yet somehow they manage to navigate themselves back onto the path. What path remains to be seen. That's the question, this gnawing obsession of a need for direction. It is slowly killing them, insidiously, from their insides out. Lindsay's been skipping periods, stress eating. A patch of hair has fallen out from behind her left ear. Alopecia areata her doctor says, possibly a stress related disorder, or maybe due to low iron or actually pulling her hair out, which Lindsay may be doing, unconsciously. S...