Elysium

The other night at the bar I ran into a friend of a friend, someone I haven’t seen for a very long time, a forgotten face from a distant past which races closer and closer each day - and I approach this past with determination, hands locked tightly on the steering wheel, eyes forward, unable or unwilling to move.

We spoke of life, it’s ups and downs. Small talk. Then she brought up you.

I haven’t seen you in over 5 years. I sternly thought I would never see you again, or speak of you even, until perhaps the day we die - when we are reunited…. and there she was telling me you never moved on. You waited. You ask about me often, evidently, with a great sadness, and a dash of hope, in your voice.

I spoke to this friend about you.

The booze coaxed words out of me I normally only reserve for the anonymous written page. I told her things, not much, but “just enough.” How I miss you. How I hope you are doing well and that you are happy. Just enough but not as much as I certainly could have. We exchanged numbers, another strategic move on my part, and I was sure to give her a ring several days later… “just calling to say hi.”

I close my eyes and I see you. When I run, and the runner’s high creeps over me in a cold shiver I see your face. I smell your hair. I long for your smile. I feel your breath on my neck. I have clothes I swear I can still smell you in.

I do not know if things could be the same between us... or if I am setting myself up for failure or disappointment. Reunited or perhaps ruination, whatever this may be, it steadily approaches.

In front of me I see a barren land. In the far-off distance stands a crumbling, ancient wall. And the whispers I hear, that I have always heard, grow louder.

Dawn

My head is finally starting to straighten out. Driving home yesterday I had an epiphany, a quiet personal victory, a moment where I didn’t think about the present but instead, looked forward to the future. The pain was gone. I was fully numb. I have moved on and there is no more “us.” I am no longer responsible for you, nor do I care what you do or where you go. I am Atlas and I have set down this preposterous burden I have bourn for countless years.

And I am smiling.

I was unsure if this “high” would last but it has. I woke up this morning with a clear head.

Yesterday, when you were over at your moms, out on bail and a day before you checked in for rehab, I had the opportunity to finally speak to you, your mom asked me if I wanted to, and it was very easy for me to tell her “no, I'm not really interested.” I do not need to speak to you or hear your "explanation." Because, and this is the truth, I really don’t care anymore about the details of what transpired.

The fact is these things happened - and it’s my “get out of jail” card.

I knew it would take something drastic for us both to finally have the guts to do what was right, and that is to go our separate ways. Our marriage sucked. We were together for him and only him. Let me rephrase that, I was there for him, you were there because I enabled you to do what it is you did. I was one of many "enablers."

We were together because it was convenient and I was just too damn lazy to break things off sooner. In addition, when all this finally went down I was devastated not because I had lost you, but because I wasn’t able to end things on my terms and it is this stubborn, macho pride that I think affected me the most.

Now a new world lies ahead of me. Unlike break-ups of the past, I do not dwell on you. I do not obsess over you because our relationship was always more of a friendship then a romance or a love affair. You were not my soul mate. And I think you have a pretty clear idea who was... and I probably wasn’t yours either.

You know, one thing that keeps things in perspective for me is this: while I was moving out, boxing my things, I came across our wedding photos down in Vegas. I looked at my face in the pictures and remembered the doubt, fear…. no not fear, but sheer terror, I was experiencing that week. I always thought I'd be with someone different. I always knew in my heart marrying you was the wrong move. It was the expected move because Presley was on his way. And it was my “duty” to marry you so I could oversee Presley's birth and his rearing.

So, I have moved on. The grieving is over. The sense of betrayal and anger has been replaced with a numb hope you may eventually get through your rehab and shake your demons, as I have, and one day become a good mom to our son, because he really does adore you. He will come and see you provided this visitation is supervised and you are continuing to be tested daily. I realize you will always be a part of his life and I will try to make the best of it. I hope he is your motivation to shake this disease you have.

But I will forever be cautious and untrusting of you.

When we speak it will be polite, to-the-point conversation about him and his well being and nothing more. I do not want to hear excuses, or apologies, or anything else from you because I don’t care anymore.

I truly do not give a flying fuck.

You go do your own thing, I already am.

Away

We push on. Even though the skies are a gray, drab curtain of menacing storm-clouds barreling closer to us... closer to the earth, we push on. For we must.

Quiet, except for the shrill whistle of the wind weaving through dead, dry branches of dead, dry trees and long ago the birds went away from this place leaving only a barren ash field stretching as far as the eye can see... perhaps forever.

I look at you, a slightly older you, and you point up at the sky and in a hoarse little voice say "Daddy I felt rain." I quietly nod, and pull the tarp over us, and we walk on. We cannot get caught out here when hell breaks loose, we must find cover and rest or we too shall die as this land has.

And you whisper in my ear "Daddy I'm scared." I kiss your cheek and assure you we will make it through. "And where is Mommy?" You ask and all I can tell you is "She is away." I turn my head and avert my eyes so you do not see my tears, I do not want to upset you. Although I know you will be all right as long as we are together.

You are the strong one.

Waste

We have moved on, Presley and I, and you now rot in jail.

I told you that this is not the path you should choose... I told you life is different for us both now... and you didn't heed a fucking word I said. Your vicious game you continued to play, queen of lies, and then you got caught you selfish pig.

Such delicious irony. YOU got caught.

Now it's YOUR house of cards that has come crashing down, whore, because we have moved on and you continue to rot in a barren cell, I hope this forced detox is extremely painful. I can't imagine the pain and hurt and emptiness you are feeling right now....

actually I can...

Because I have been there.

And the past 8 months have been pain, hurt, and emptiness as I watched you slip away. And every day I grew more and more numb. Unlike you, unlike myself once upon a time, I chose not to self-medicate. I took it like a man. Yes, I am angry and hurt, but not for myself, but for our son. It pains me he was not your first priority as he is mine. You are and always were a pitiful mother.

Now, I am all he has. We are "each the other's world entire." And you are no longer a part of the equation. You will never be. I will not allow you near him.

Unlike you, I would never smoke Heroin in the same car I pick him up in, or in the house right next to the spot he likes to play. Unlike you I am here to protect him.

I am thankful this happened. I wanted an out but my sense of "duty" kept me in. I felt obligated to play house with you and wear a happy face and pretend the world is peachy so he would be happier. I do not regret meeting you, however. You served your purpose, I have what I always wanted, I have my immortality. The center of my universe, my beautiful, beautiful boy. You are/were a mere egg donor.

You were my greatest drug buddy, the thrill of the flesh bonded us, fused us together, but then he came, unexpectedly... I changed, but you couldn't.

I don't really give a fuck where you go from here. You are now a felon, you can never be a professional or lead a normal life. You are a hopeless addict, you will relapse again and again and again, I know you will, I know you are exceptionally weak. Perhaps you will strip or suck or fuck to get what you need... I couldn't care less really as long as you stay the fuck away from him.

Perhaps you will get busted again and spend countless years locked away and forgotten, yes forgotten, because no one will come see you. You have alienated your family. You fucked them over. Presley and I will definitely not come see you. These so-called "friends" of yours whom convinced you to use, your drug buddies, will not come and see you. You will become a memory. When people speak of you they will shake their heads and say: " Such a waste. Such a waste."

Or.... Perhaps you will go to sleep and never wake up again. Oh my god, I'm crossing my fingers you do. I know you will relapse with a fucking vengeance. Try shooting your smack. Try a line of coke with that Heroin, fuck how about some meth? lol, I promise you'll like the way you feel bitch... I promise-- and I promise I will never speak ill of you to Presley, I will tell him the good things you did, which are few. But your memory will be honored. Not for your sake, but his.

Be'trayael

And so it ends. My house of cards comes tumbling down around me. I've lost yet another person I love to drug addiction, this time someone close, and I cannot find it in my heart to forgive such selfishness.

Or my own hypocrisy for doing so. Such irony.

And deep within the Kraken stirs, he has awaken from a deep slumber.