Thursday, April 28, 2011

I Needed You.

Friends will pick up the phone and call not because you asked them to, but because they know you need it. Friends keep you busy and make sure you're mind doesn't have too much time to think about it when They know your thoughts are your worse enemy. I have felt the sting of loss this week. Two in one week. Literally. My good friend is now gone. Died in a car accident because someone couldn't call a cab after having one too many. My sister is gone because of whatever reason. . . THat's still being looked into since it only happened a couple hours ago. We'll know once the medical examiner is done. Call it caloused, or call it survival. Really I'm waiting for you to get the hint that I need someplace to break down. I need you to hold me while I cry about this so I can pick it up and move forward. I need a moment where you stand beside me. Even if you don't want it to be as my companion do it as my friend! Because the only other person who would do this is a couple states away right now. I reached out because I needed someone I could trust to help me. The anger I feel from the loss tells me that it's pathetic that men who used and abused me were better at reaching out than you. The part of me that recognizes that anger has NOTHING to do with you knows you did what you feel comfortable doing right now. And knowing that I have the warped sense of death I have you are thinking about your own issues and problems knowing I'm just that sick. I may view death in a similar manner as Johnny the Homicidal Maniac but I'm telling you now. . . I need you to be my friend. I need you to be a better friend than you have been this last couple of weeks. I need a best friend. I know You've been that. I guess this is my sick way of saying thank you.

Thursday, April 21, 2011


Staring in horror at my phone as I recognize a number I had hoped would disapear with the rest of my mistake to become a faint memory, and severe warning I am frantic. I can't bring myself to touch my phone let alone silence it.Even with out the name attached I knew who it was, and I was gripped by both horror and terror. I continue to stare at it with trepidation as the notice about a voice mail pops up and sounds. This isn't happening. All my progress! Everything I've done to weed this out of my life! It's only been a month granted, but still! This is NOT happening! I sit questioning whether to listen or just delete the voicemail. I listen. "Ma"'s toxicology report say's over dose on a narcotic painkiller, and an alcohol level through the roof. It wasn't "him", but it was that family. That woman was the only thing tying me to that family. I loved her dearly. I have no reason to still love, or desire that family, that coast, that person. Only Ma. . . and she's gone now.
I rememeber the first time I set foot in that apartment. three empty Bailey's bottles on the table, and a half finished bottle of Absynth. Three bottles of prescription pain killers on the table. I looked at 'him' and whispered " she'll kill herself is she keeps that up". She was an alcoholic and everyone knew it. They even made fun of her a bit about it. I said it not because I knew this phone call would come but because I knew what those things did to you as a human body.

I sat staring at the end of my bed for almost 30 minutes before I got out of bed, walked my dog, and got in the shower.

Someone asked me once what brought me back. Why did I come back to church after everything I did, and everything that happened. I couldn't answer. I tried to come up with something profound. There isn't anything profound about what happened. I just knew. I knew and so I couldn't stay away. The true conversion happens that way. Much like those in history who have looked back and said " I always knew". . . I knew. I KNOW. I've never been able to honestly say I didn'tknow. I wanted to not know. I wanted to have some great conversion story with heavenly lights, and angelic music, or profound life altering revelation! yeah, not so much. I've always prayed. I've always known. Perhaps that's the key. I've always prayed. Even when I was so drunk I couldn't think straight I could muster a " Father. . . I'm drunk. please. . " and then I'd lose conciousness. Even when I was higher than a kite I could still hit my knees star at the cieling and say " well you know. . amen". I have ALWAYS prayed. I will never have a profound decliration that envelopes my entire being. I will never have some cool story to tell the youth at a fireside. I will never be asked to speak on my conversion in sacrament meeting. But I will be able to look someone in the eye's, and say in all honesty, "How could I deny what I know?". Am I going back to that family? Never! Will I become the person I was, and hide and lie about what I know to be the truth? Never! And I believe I finally understand that the people who will truely love me are the ones who will never ask me to deny what I know in action, words, or deeds. They will support me in this lifestyle, and love me all the more for it. To a little brother who scared the crap out of me this morning. . . not cool dude, but it was good to meet you and I wish you well. To the person who brought Ma into my life. . I wish you the peace you desire, but seem to always fall short of finding. To the coastline that almost reeled me in. . . Maybe someday I'll have a reason to go back, but today is not that day and tomorrow doesn't look good either.
I know who I am. I know who I have always been. . . I was just hiding.