To my surprise, I spent the night at Sonny's—I went out with Marsha Connell, and when I got home I called Nathan to check in on him, who was being babysat by a friend of Sonny's. But a half hour later, Nathan called me to pick him up, and bring him home. We snuggled on the couch talking about random stuff and then we fell asleep.
Sunny came home from a gig after 3 AM, and muttered something about us sleeping with the light on, douses the light and crawls into Nathan's bed. Almost like old times.
I haven't been in Sonny's cabin since mid July, and I said I wouldn't visit, unless things improved. Not that they have. But the heart is ever hopeful. I drew my line in the sand. And stood behind it. Nearly 2 months now I've managed to keep my distance.
Sonny fixes me coffee in the morning, talks about how he ran into another of Cindy's strange friends. He says she systematically burns them all one by one until they kick her out. soon she'll have no place to go to. He told her she couldn't stay in his house anymore.
He said, If I thought it could do some good to improve her situation I would wouldn't mind, but it doesn't.
Poor Nathan witnessing this: his mother's degradation, her falling apart. His story is so much like mine. Addictive parents. My heart aches for him. No wonder we cling to each other like burrs. I know our deep connection makes Sonny jealous. I'm his father, he says. As if that could take the place of mother complex.
Equinox 23 September
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