Bouncing off the Wall

Caught burning gasoline, sleeping in reverse...

Turn on your light and stay with me awhile
And ease your worried mind
Turn on your light now baby
And stay with me awhile
And rock steady

October 5th, 2016.

The comforting fragrance of bold coffee and burning cigarettes danced through my nostrils as I struggled to overcome my post coma-like sleep state. As the coffee and cigarettes roused my other senses, I could hear the muffled sound of music coming from the kitchen. Our bedroom door was opened just a crack, but that snazzy guitar lick sounded familiar: Billie Joe was enjoying some Bad Company. Smiling, I opened my eyes slowly to find myself being greeted by the promising warmth of the California sun. Even on this brisk, October day, it peeked cheerfully at me through our bedroom blinds. An all-encompassing feeling of tranquility washed over me like a cleansing rain.

"So peaceful," I thought to myself as I shimmied down the bed to submerge myself in the sea of blankets just one more time before getting up.

Suddenly, I was propelled back into reality by the sound of a dish breaking. Or two. Maybe three?

Clank. Crack. Thud.

"For fuck's sake," Billie groaned audibly from the kitchen. "Jesus Christ, talk about a bull in a fucking china shop," he then mumbled in frustration. 

I giggled and heaved the covers off of me with a shove. Venturing back into dreamland for a few minutes would have to wait, because from the sound of things, a clean up on aisle "kitchen" was needed.

Standing up, I glanced at the bedroom wall clock. 8:12 AM.  For just a moment, I was surprised to hear my husband up and about already. Typically, he would still be snoozing at this time; even on a weekday, so long as he didn't have anywhere to be.

Today, he didn't have anywhere to be except in his own head. That's because Green Day are releasing their 12th studio album, Revolution Radio, in two days and Billie's nerves have never been more shot. With every album release comes crippling anxiety about how fans will receive it. It plagues him like nothing else. He's feeling especially vulnerable with this album, because aside from a few more-lighthearted tracks, it's essentially a rollercoaster ride compilation of all his thoughts and emotions since Cheeto Jesus took office in January. It's very personal and different politically than anything else Green Day has released before.

I wish I could help him find rest, but there's zero room in his mind to think of rest right now, which likely explains why he's up so early.

Studying myself briefly in the vanity mirror next to our bed, I readjusted my "pajamas": a silky, black slip with white lace trim - Billie's favorite - and pulled my long dreadlocks into a semi-manageable bun before emerging into the living room.

Billie and I were in the house alone since our boys were out touring together. I missed them so very much. No kiddos meant Billie and I could walk around the house in our "comfy" clothes, though - and to us, comfy meant the less amount of clothing, the better. 

As I rounded the corner of our kitchen entrance, the aroma of blueberry pancakes hit me hard; almost as hard as my heart started beating when I saw my better half of over 22 years clad in a black tank top and gray, velvety boxers.

He stood with his back towards me, fumbling with the broken porcelain remains on the counter. A tall carafe of fresh orange juice sat on the kitchen table accompanied by a large pot of coffee. Next to the beverages sat two small stacks of decadent blueberry pancakes on individual plates adjacent to one another. A burning cigarette lingered in a crystal ashtray near one of the plates of pancakes.

He had made breakfast for us - a loving gesture that he knew I appreciated so much. Smiling, I inhaled deeply and opened my mouth to greet him, but then decided that staying behind and enjoying the view for just a moment longer would do me good. He stayed with his back towards me, shaking his ass ever-so-slightly as he swayed side to side with the music; completely oblivious to the fact that I was behind him.

After several moments of indulging in the eye candy who stood in front of me, I walked up behind him quietly and gently swaddled my arms around his beautiful canvas of a chest.

"Oh, hey, baby," he said softly, turning to face me with a sleepy smile. "Good morning. I was just thinking about coming to get you up for breakfast. I hope I didn't wake you with the music?" he asked, turning it down; his smile morphing into a more concerned expression.

"Good morning, my love. You didn't," I smiled, resting my head on his chest and squeezing him tightly. I could feel myself melting into oblivion as he lowered his calloused hands to rest on my curves; reciprocating the hug that assured me home was wherever he was. As we released our embrace, he held my face with one hand and brushed some loose hair out of my eyes with the other, then placed a soft kiss on my lips.

I winked at him. "Those noisy dishes, on the other hand..."

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he chuckled, lowering his head. "I was trying to get some of those pretty plates out for us to eat breakfast on but I just ended up dropping them."

"Those old things?" I inquired, gesturing vaguely to the remains of the outdated, distastefully-designed porcelain on the counter.

"Yeah...I thought those were, like, really special?" he suggested.

"Really special to my ancestors, maybe," I responded playfully. This elicited a laugh from him which was so refreshing to hear.

"Well, in that case," he chuckled, "Let's eat."

Abandoning the mess on the countertop, and with my hand in his, we walked to the kitchen table. "This looks and smells so good," I smiled. He helped scoot me in closer to the table.

"I wanted to make a pre-birthday breakfast for you," he smiled back at me, sitting down. "I know blueberry pancakes are your fave. I can't wait to celebrate you tomorrow."

"This is so awesome of you, honey. Seriously, thank you," I said with a smile. "You're the best." I reached out for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, resting it there.

He smiled, but the look in his eyes said, "Save me."

"You know, we have my birthday and the new album to celebrate in the next couple days," I said, optimistically. "There will be all kinds of reasons for celebration here in the Armstrong Household. We should do something fun," I suggested, trying to get his mind into a happier place. 

Instead, at my words, he tensed up immediately and his thumb that had been drawing gentle circles on my hand came to a haunting halt. Pulling his hand out from underneath mine, he reached hungrily only for his cigarette.

Fuck. I shouldn't have mentioned the new album at all. I'm such a fucking idiot.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry," I whispered, looking down at my feet. I felt like I was choking. "The new album...I, - I shouldn't have said anything..."

"No, no, no," he exhaled, a cloud of smoke leaving his kind lips. "I'm sorry for being a wreck about all of this and pulling you through the mud with me." He stood up and knelt down to kiss me, wrapping me in a hug where I sat. "I know it'll be ok. It will, won't it?," he asked, his green orbs piercing my soul; desperate for some kind of confirmation. "I just want them to like it," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

"I know you do, baby," I assured him. "They will." He began sobbing quietly into my neck as I soothingly rubbed his back. "I'm here for you and this is going to be awesome," I said encouragingly, kissing the top of his head.

As I held him - this beautiful man I'd rarely seen be anything but stoic - I felt defeated. Here was the man I loved more than life itself: an anxious, vulnerable, trembling mess. And I couldn't do anything to help him.

As we held one another, Bad Company continued to play softly in the background. The lyrics to Rock Steady burned in my ears.

Turn on your light and stay with me awhile
And ease your worried mind
Turn on your light now baby
And stay with me awhile
And rock steady

Or could I?