sunday nights

I drive heading to my home early in the night. Everyone is gone, the streets are bare. It's only 9:14 pm. I scan the radio for something right. Nothing good is on, like usual. I flip back to the mix cd you made me and gave me when we were in Boston together. Jawbreaker is playing loudly. I know these roads way too well. I pass my father's store that he and my brother built. I pass by the sports bar Lil b and I used to eat 65 cent wings at every Tuesday night. I pass the DMV I spent almost a week at, struggling just for some progress in my life. I pass the Kmart that my mother once left me at when the freshly bought plant sitting aside my friend apparently looked like me. At the stop light beside the community college that held the track that my mom and I spent so many countless nights trying to keep our bodies to the ideal feel of how we wanted them to be, I started to think. I decided to write a letter to Lil Beezie to explain how I love her and don't give up without me around to keep from her killing herself. How everything would be okay and how life will suck but one day she'll find her soulmate and life will just look a tad bit better. Then I thought about how my brothers might ask, "Where's my letter of love and assurance?" and then I realized however I die, I want them to know I know they're strong and can always carry on without me to bug them or cry for help. At that moment, I cried. I cried while i drove. I kept my speed, but it didn't matter in the black paved abyss I tugged my truck along. I was crying for the first time in a really, really long time. For a minute, for some strange second in time I thought to call Landon. Maybe he would know what to say in a time like this. Then I got angry with myself and questioned on why in the world do I always think of Landon when I cry? It's disgusting and pathetic that when sad tears fall from my eyes I think of that piece of shit. I blame all those sad memories that haunt me. All those sad fights we had. All those empty nights I spent in my room, screaming my heart out to a human who barely heard an exhale from my direction. Then I turned my music down low. The only sound that filled the air now was the chugging and struggling of the truck I was within. I grabbed for my phone and dialed for you. Why? I didn't know. Tears still streaming down my face. Thoughts of death and missing just a handful of people crowded my mind. High school nights of sneaking around. Hardcore shows being the bane of my existence. Mom and the life before. Suicide flashing in and out. No answer from you. I figured that much, I know you've got a busy life of your own. It's all fair to me. I instantly regret the call, wipe my tears, turn up the music and sing along to something I know. Pull up into my yard and forget who I once was and keep moving forward.

Just keep moving forward.