I played my part well, as I had missed her very much. No one could be with me in such a way. The conversation was real, moved into the lighthearted, and ultimately proved my prediction. Forever the dark horse, I asked why we, the most emotional and brilliant of souls, would have to bear the harshest of decisions. She shrugged, didn't know. I told her that I didn't know either, and ordered more drinks. I stayed until closing, and watched her climb into her boyfriend’s car and drive away. As much as the club depressed me, I continued to return, if only to hope that she might need me for any reason. It was a better mission for a day than work, or my cursed quest.
The
last night I saw her, I did not go to the club until very late. I had been bar hopping when I ran into an
old friend who was having a party. I
went to the party and drank at least half a case of beer, on top of shots, and
the dreaded beer-bong. Then came the
cocaine. By the time I left, I was in
such a state of confusion, and had the weight of the whole universe on my
shoulders, not to mention the responsibility of ever ones happiness hinging on
my results, that I was headed for a crash.
I needed a dear friend. Instead
of being the pillar for all to rely on, I needed to lean on someone else. Only one name was in my head once I caught
my snap and decided I needed emotional support: Jennifer.
I
made it to the club, and waited outside for them to close up. It was a half-hour before they would
close. The huge bouncer, who had gotten
to know me by now, as every one in the club had, picked me up from beside my
car, put his arm around me, and helped me in.
He asked me, "What happened, did some one
die?"
"Me.", I replied, solemnly.
He
took me into the dancers dressing room, and Angela, one of the dancers, got me
a cup of coffee while the bouncer went to retrieve Jennifer. I was not a wild man, I wasn't any trouble,
but they knew I was troubled. When
Jennifer came in I was surprised to see that she was not in any way
sympathetic.
"Let's go.” she said.
Before
the bouncer could get hold of my arm I stood up and walked straight out. I may have run into the edge of the doorway,
but I was still on my own power. This
burst of strength, or last act of desperation, came from my sheer shock that
someone I have always been there for could not comprehend that I had weak
moments too. On the way home, she
stopped by Denny's to tell her boyfriend she would be late for breakfast, as
she had to "take him home."
And that was all she did. As we were on the freeway, I asked her to
pull over so I could throw up. Instead,
I climbed out of the car, and began to cross the freeway, into on coming
traffic. There was a lot of noise, but
she reeled me back in, and took me home.
To me, I figured this would be a bridge as burnt as ever. If you can not return what you have asked of
me, then why can I expect anyone in this world to do so. If this is true, then let me die. I would rather not breathe than be
used. She gave me a speech about how
she had seen to many of her friend go to shit because of drug, and she did not
want to be a part of my life if this was how I was going to behave.
It was a painful lesson. It was when I realized that my strength of
conviction was my weakness as well. It
was wrong of me to put her through what I did that night. I peeled myself down to my most fragile
place, and asked a friend if she would give me a reason to live. What I found was that she had learned how to
not care. The world had suceeded in
giving her insensitivity lessons. I
have learned how to care so I might recognize someone who cares about me. What I have found is that I have pushed the
edge of something no one looks at, and found a gift I can give others, when it
is all I wish to receive from the world.
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