Listless echoes, still wanderers in the valleys of time. Broken shackles and a new sense of freedom overcome even the stronger willed. But now, as we wander, we begin to lose direction? For we, are lost and do not know the way. Will you help us to find direction? To a place where we shall arrive together. And then, become open to a new thought. But nothing too far out of the ordinary. For, we, are still in a new place.
How many ways can a man fade into nonexistence? Broken and charred remains of a shattered existence. But now, as we come together as one. We realize, are the stirring whispers of two separate worlds. Distant memories of a place long forgotten. Lost inside, displaced by nonexistence. Far away from a distant escape. Now we fade, shaded and misplaced.
Distant echos whisper, the memories of a time when we where young…We barely knew the other. But, as time moved forward, a bond strong enough to whether the darkest storms formed. As for our parents, they weren’t any help. They rejected our friendship from the start. All because they had their own problems. But I like to think, we helped them to help one another, in the end.
We met in 5th grade, when you moved here, and became quick friends. We would play together in shaded places. We where afraid, that our parents would find us together. Your mom hated my dad and thought I was a bad influence. But I was nothing like my dad, and you knew that. But the more you tried to convince your mom of this, the more she forbade our friendship. My dad would get drunk and try to take his anger for your mom Stacy, on you. We would go out into the woods and hide together. I always felt so safe when I was with you. And now, I still do.
School days come and go, like they always do. I would look forward to seeing you in class every morning. We would look at each other and smile, not knowing we both liked the other. The first time that we talked, we where on the playground. My father had gotten drunk and slapped me. I was sitting under a tree crying. You saw me and came to give me a flower. It was a buttercup, you called them. You told me to hold it under my chin and it would tell you if you liked butter by the reflection. We laughed and became quick friends.
After my brother died, my father started drinking more. Things just seemed to be too much for my mom to handle, because she left us both. It was the hardest time period for my dad. It seems like it got worse over time. But you must understand, they had been together since high school. They got married at a young age, and swore they would never have kids, my dad said. But sometimes, I guess life throws you a curve ball. Some people can handle tragedy better than others. My dad was a very soft hearted and emotional person, behind the bottle. I always thought I could fix him, but he didn’t want that. He just wanted to drink and forget.
I don’t know too much about Jason’s mom, Stacy. She knew my dad was a major alcoholic and wanted nothing to do with him. She had seen him several times out in town drunk. He was what she liked to call a shameful drunk, one of those crying drunks. When she found out we were playing together all the time at school, she flipped. She thought I would be a negative influence on Jason. She would do anything to keep us apart. It seems like if she was a real Christian, she would offer to help him. I guess sometimes the best thing to do is ignore others selfish stupidity.
We didn’t care about them though; we were becoming the best of friends. We would say that they couldn’t keep us apart forever, and it was true. We couldn’t wait to go to school to see one another. As time went on, and high school came around, we saw each other in a different manner. You bought me a rose on Valentine’s Day and asked if we could start dating. It was the happiest day of my life, and I unquestionably said yes. We smiled and had our first kiss. We had no idea that this moment would change our lives forever.
The multiple layers of discontent began to slowly fade. Our parents where their usual selves. But my dad was becoming more depressed by the day. Unknown to him, I had seen some scars on his arm. I was worried, because he kept drinking more and more. He said it was to kill the pain, but all he did was cry when he drank. I think the moment everyone realized how serious his situation was, was when he had a suicide attempt. He swallowed 132 pills and was in a coma for four days. Even Stacy had a moment when she realized he might need help. So, she invited him and I to church with her and Jason.
My father, of course, said no. But Stacy would ask us every Saturday to go with you two. One night, as my father was stumbling upstairs, he staggered and fell backwards down the steps and nearly fractured his neck. But he walked away with a different attitude after that. That next Saturday he told Stacy he wanted to come. And then, to everyone’s surprise, they started to become friends. I guess God works in mysterious ways sometimes, because he was really trying his best to change.
We graduated high school and began to plan for our future together. We both enrolled at the same community college. Thank God for grants or we couldn’t have gone. I wanted to become an addiction councilor so I could help other families through some of the same hard times we had. We had made it through what I thought was the hardest times in our life. Stuff like addiction can ruin families and even friendships, but that’s another story.
As for you, you wanted to do some religious studies. Your mom was very pleased to hear you wanted to become a minister. Your plan was to go to school and for us to get married once we had gotten settled in a profession. But we couldn’t wait, we had been not only a couple, but best friends. You were working a side job at a used bookstore, and barely scrapped enough money to get me a ring. It wasn’t much, but that wasn’t the point.
We went for a walk down a creek road where your mom grew up. It was so beautiful; the flowers were starting to bloom along the edge of the creek. We took our shoes off and climbed over to the waterfall. You proposed to me right there on what was your moms favorite rock to sit on. I think they could hear me scream all the way down the end of the road. We both had tears in our eyes as we held the other.
The wedding was beautiful. We had it at a small country church just up from the creek. It was the one and only time I ever saw my dad wear a suit and tie. He walked me up the isle and gave me your hand. I was pretty sure his eyes were watering when he sat down. The preacher conducted the wedding. And with a, “you may kiss the bride,” we where married. And as for our future together, that will come in a different story
Schizophrenic Poems, Short Stories, and Thoughts 