Day #18

I. Hate. This. Life. I did not ask for this. I want absolutely nothing to do with it. 

This is me having a tantrum or, if I’m being really hard on myself, a pity party. I am a grown man (53), responsible, mature but, goddamn it, I feel like I’m allowed to have this one - probably others - and without any judgement from anyone. Including myself. Yeah, it may not be the best reflection of who I am, but I don’t care right now. The world can suck it. 

I just spent the last 7 1/2 hours in a car driving to Florida. Lots of time on my hands to reflect on what has happened and what I’ve lost. I feel like I’ve lost almost everything. In the blink of an eye. I made this same drive a month ago. The 3 of us spent the week of Thanksgiving in St. Augustine. I remember it like it was yesterday. Because, literally speaking, it was pretty damn close to yesterday. 

I remember my son flying a kite on the beach. I remember him losing one of his Apple EarPods in the condo. I remember the 3 of us having Thanksgiving dinner. I remember him buying a cheap dagger in a souvenir shop in old St. Augustine. And me ribbing him for it. (I told him I was going to call him Dragon from now on and that he needed to have the dagger autographed by Randy Jackson.) And poof - that is all that’s left. Memories. 

I’m sorry, but memories alone are NOT FUCKING GOOD ENOUGH. This world, the one without my son it in, is for shit. I. Hate. This. Life. Now all I have to do is learn to live with it. Fun. 


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