Friday, January 11, 2008

sometimes the news is bad

"If you have anything of any importance to tell me, for god's sake start at the end."
-Robin McKinley


spook is mostly okay. He's sore and unhappy, but he's back at work, and he's going to be all right.

On Wednesday night he woke me up by saying my name. It was pretty late; he'd been out and I'd been asleep for a couple of hours. I could tell something was wrong, but I was still sort of swimming up from sleep, and he had to say my name again. I sat up.

"What? What is it? Are you okay?"

One of us turned the lights on, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. There was blood on his face and shirt, and one of his eyes was swelling up. I must have been staring, because he said "I got beat up," and I, full of first aid training, promptly burst into tears.

Yeah, I wasn't impressed either.

He told me the story while I sponged blood off his temple and upper lip and sobbed: he was walking home, there were a couple of guys behind him, he turned up a street to get away from them. They followed him. When he cut across the park to get back to a busier street, they hit him, muttering something about fags to each other and laughing. "It was sort of like getting beaten up by Beavis and Butthead," he said wryly. No, we didn't call the police. He didn't really see them and no one thought that 'a couple of white guys in hoodies' was much of a description.

You know that song 'Today I Hate Everyone'?


p.s. Expressions of sympathy are welcome, but spook does not wish to talk about it right now--please do not ask him. Your love is the important thing.

2 comments:

Boethius said...

Fucked up...and in Toronto too...I would have thought that was a more Oshawa type thing to do. I'm sorry, I'm not good with expressing feelings but if you need to vent or cry or rant, I'm always here. Also if Alex wants me to walk the streets and look for the dudes, I'd be glad to. Hang in there.

Boethius said...
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