Page 57 of Nine

“I’d kiss you now, but you just vomited,” he says.

I laugh, as the moment lightens up.

He pulls me into his side and we walk back up to the hotel. I run into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. When I come out, Trig is standing there next to the bed. The mattress is still covered in money. We both just start pushing the remainder of it on to the floor. I slip out of my clothes and he slips out of his. We both crawl into bed. He wraps his arms around me and I wrap mine around him. This thing that’s happening is twisted, just like I said, but I can’t stop it and neither can he. I look up to see that his eyes are closed. He’s exhausted and I know I’m the reason why. I look down at his bloody knuckles. He just beat the shit out of a guy for me. I’m such a selfish bitch. I have this amazing guy in front of me and I don’t know what to do with him. I run my fingers over his knuckles and then I look at his face. The moonlight peeks in the window and hits the side of his cheek.

“Trig,” I whisper.

He doesn’t answer.

“Trig,” I try again.

I hear a slight moan.

“Why don’t you see me the same way I see myself?”

“What way?” Trig mumbles.

“Defective.”

“Baby, broken crayons still color. They still make beautiful art.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

He rubs his eyes, sits up, and yawns.

“Have you ever heard the rebirth of the eagle myth?”

I shake my head.

“They say at forty years of age the eagle’s talons can no longer grab prey. The beak starts to bend. The wings become heavy and thick from old age, which makes it difficult to fly. So, the eagle is left with two options.” He takes a breath. “Die, or go through a painful process called change.”

Trig has my full attention. I’m leaning into him, and hanging on every word. I know this is going to be something worth listening to. I just don’t know what it has to do with me yet.

“The eagle has to fly to a mountain top and sit on its nest. It’s there that it will bang its beak against a rock until it plucks it out. Then the eagle will wait for a new beak to grow, until it plucks its heavy feathers out.”

“And then what?” I ask.

“It takes its famous flight of rebirth and it gets to live another thirty years.

“That is awful. Why even do all of that?”

Trig lays back down. “To survive and live, change is necessary.”

I lay down and snuggle up close to him. I place my head on his chest and as much as I want to go to sleep, I can’t. Trig just blew me away with that story. I’m freaking out about life, and here this damn bird is self-mutilating to survive. All I have to do is say yes to change. That’s it. Why is the thought so damn scary? I stare up at the ceiling. Trig said it best. Change is a painful process, but necessary to survive. Isn’t that what I’ve been doing all of these years? Surviving? This next step shouldn’t be hard, but it is. This is the part where I’m left with two options, right? I’m supposed to evaluate my life and choose life over death. Damn it, Trig. I stare at him.

It’s definitely time. I think I need to break my beak, grow into my new claws, and rip out my own feathers, I just don’t know if I can do this. How do I even start? I’ve been motionless far too long, locked in my own little mechanical world, with heart in a cage, and then he comes along.

I guess I’ll begin with smashing my face into a rock, which happens to be Trig.

God help me.

Chapter 9. Consumed

We had one hell of a night, and this morning I woke up with a new outlook on life. After I fell asleep last night, I had a dream about Jenny. She was in our old kitchen in Las Vegas and she was making me a sandwich. She brought it over, and then she sat down next to me on the couch. She smiled in the way she used to. I asked her why she was so happy and she said, “You finally get it. You finally understand how to let someone in. Love doesn’t have to be painful, and you don’t have to be afraid of it. ” She held my hand and said, “Everything is going to be okay. Trig won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” Then she vanished.

After hearing those words from her, I was definitely prepared to take my famous flight, just like the eagle. It was obvious that I had already accomplished the self-inflicted wounds part.

“Trig,” I whisper and gently shake him.

---