{"id":111,"date":"2020-06-14T03:15:20","date_gmt":"2020-06-14T03:15:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2020\/calendar\/?p=111"},"modified":"2020-06-14T03:15:20","modified_gmt":"2020-06-14T03:15:20","slug":"june-14th-least-said-soonest-mended-by-lapfordlass","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2020\/calendar\/?p=111","title":{"rendered":"June 14th- Least Said, Soonest Mended by Lapfordlass"},"content":{"rendered":"

Sometimes, Starsky just pushes my buttons. Sometimes, he\u2019s so infuriating, I could kill him! Sometimes, I even tell him that. Even when he and I both know it\u2019s not true. Even when I know the reason he\u2019s making me angry is to stop me falling into the pit of despair that certain anniversaries open up for me.<\/span><\/p>\n

In Starsky\u2019s mind, filled with that weird logic of his, making me angry at him is supposed to deliver me out of my blue funk: it\u2019s supposed to aid me to refocus all my negative energy on him so that I can let go of whatever is bothering me; and it\u2019s supposed to help me get my equilibrium back so that tomorrow will be a better day.<\/span><\/p>\n

Why does he have to do that? Why is he always thinking about me and not himself? Why does he put up with me? Sometimes, I just don\u2019t know the answer.<\/span><\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t help my mood today. I couldn\u2019t help the shouting and the sarcasm. I couldn\u2019t stop the grumpy sighs and the drumming fingers. It was beyond my control. The dark clouds were hovering over my bed when I woke up this morning. The calendar screaming the date at me like a klaxon calling out my loss: saying you\u2019re alone, you deserve to be alone and you\u2019ll never find happiness. You\u2019d think after two years, I could at least let some of it go but each anniversary of that day does the same thing to me: fills me with sadness, anger, a sense of hopelessness.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky knows this and yet he still comes by and picks me up. He still talks to me about nothing and does stupid things to wind me up just so I can lash out at him rather than at myself. He\u2019s never, not once, asked for a day off to avoid me. He takes what I dish out and still wants to be my partner anyway. That\u2019s a special kind of friendship and that\u2019s an amazing type of friend that on days like to day, I really need but don\u2019t believe I deserve.<\/span><\/p>\n

Usually, we struggle through the bad days together and at the end, he\u2019ll drop me off and say, \u201cSee ya tomorrow, Blintz,\u201d like I hadn\u2019t just ripped his head off for the thousandth time. He\u2019ll act like he doesn\u2019t mind when I ignore him, or I just grunt, because he knows that tomorrow I\u2019ll be all smiles and things will be good again. It will be like today never happened. Starsky always believes in \u2018least said, soonest mended\u2019 and, by and large, it works for us.<\/span><\/p>\n

But not this time.<\/span><\/p>\n

Not this time, when I\u2019d said those unforgiveable words, \u201cI could kill you,\u201d and had very nearly managed it.<\/span><\/p>\n

What kind of a partner was I anyway? What kind of a friend? Starsky deserves so much better. He deserves someone who won\u2019t take his bad mood out on him or even better someone who\u2019ll let things go and not stew on them.<\/span><\/p>\n

As the doctor wraps his chest to support his broken rib, Starsky smiles and jokes with the nurse. He even smiles and jokes with me. He acts like I didn\u2019t almost cost him his life with my inattention: my head down, stuck in my own world, so absentminded that I didn\u2019t see the pipe ’til I was tripping over it and knocking into my partner. He acts like he didn\u2019t fall off a roof because of me; like he wouldn\u2019t have been dead if he\u2019d fallen a foot to the right. But I can\u2019t act like that. All I can see, in my mind\u2019s eye, is a drop, a huge gaping hole between buildings. When I think about it now, it makes all the blood rush out of my legs, which is why I\u2019m sitting on a chair unable to move.<\/span><\/p>\n

As the doctor and nurse leave to organise the paperwork so Starsky can go home, silence descends. My hollowed out brain is ringing with thoughts, each more terrifying than the last — you nearly killed your partner today; you nearly lost your best friend; you nearly lost the one thing that makes this world worthwhile. My heart\u2019s no quieter: it\u2019s telling me I should get away from him before I hurt him irrevocably; before I say one too many mean things that will break the camel\u2019s back; before I actually do cost him his life.<\/span><\/p>\n

I can\u2019t look at him. My failure hurts too much.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d the words escape my lips without me forming them. They are totally inadequate.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey, these things happen, Blintz. Don\u2019t go beating yourself up about it,\u201d he says and he means it too.<\/span><\/p>\n

We walk in silence to his car and he insists on driving even though he\u2019s in pain. I expect him to drop me home but he stops at a little bodega to run some errands. I can see the way he\u2019s holding himself stiffly and my mortification knows no end. He comes out carrying a six pack of beer and a bunch of yellow roses. I raise an eyebrow at him but he just puts the items on the back seat and drives: not towards my house or his but somewhere else. I\u2019m not sure where we\u2019re going ’til we get there.<\/span><\/p>\n

The cemetery.<\/span><\/p>\n

He hands me the flowers and I get out of the car silently. I wander down the tidy rows of white and grey tombstones until I come to the one inscribed with her name: GILLIAN INGRAHM. I lay my flowers on the neatly clipped grass and say what I need to say. I kiss my fingers and place my hand on the cool marble stone, saying thank you for our short time together, saying goodbye.<\/span><\/p>\n

I feel better as I walk through the grassy lanes to my waiting partner.<\/span><\/p>\n

He starts the engine and turns the car back towards where he lives. I know he wants to go home and rest but I also know he\u2019s taking me with him. We\u2019ll drink beer and talk and I\u2019ll sleep on the couch ’cause he\u2019s decided he\u2019s not letting me be alone today. And I\u2019m grateful, more grateful than I can say.<\/span><\/p>\n

As we open the first beer, he turns to me and says, \u201cNext year, we\u2019re taking the day off.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I frown at him. \u201cWe don\u2019t need to do that, Starsk. We don\u2019t take a day off on Terri\u2019s anniversary. We always do something on the day or evening to remember her but we don\u2019t take the whole day\u2026 I don\u2019t need the whole day.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Unexpectedly, Starsky grins at me. \u201cNo, but I do. Gillian\u2019s anniversary is dangerous for my health. If I remember rightly, last year you threw a can of soda at me and gave me a black eye. This year you knocked me off a roof. I might not survive next year!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

And suddenly, I\u2019m laughing and he\u2019s laughing too. I throw a cushion at his head and he ducks, clutching his bruised ribs and gasping, \u201cDon\u2019t make me laugh!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

So next year, I might take the day off to keep my partner safe and sound\u2026 but if I don\u2019t, I will remember to be grateful for Starsky: for the way he drives me crazy; for the way he reads my mind; for the way he gives me hope; for a partner who\u2019s always got my back; and for a friendship that\u2019s unending.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Sometimes, Starsky just pushes my buttons. Sometimes, he\u2019s so infuriating, I could kill him! Sometimes, I even tell him that. Even when he and I both know it\u2019s not true. Even when I know the reason he\u2019s making me angry … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,6,4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-111","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fic","category-gen","category-sfw"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2020\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/111","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2020\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2020\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2020\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2020\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=111"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2020\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/111\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":395,"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2020\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/111\/revisions\/395"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2020\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=111"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2020\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=111"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/solstice.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2020\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=111"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}