One Last Time, One More Time

 

It was Halloween. 2001. I was laying on my bed looking up at the ceiling, my eyes rolling around from the drugs. I could feel my heart pounding through my chest. I had taken more than I ever had before. I'm surprised I even made it home from the party. I came out of my trance to an empty room. I was alone. Where did everyone go? I know I left the party but don't remember how I got home? I thought for sure this time was it. This time I would drift away and not come back......and I was okay with it.

 

I felt as if I had nothing anymore. My parents had finally divorced after years of passive and often times not so passive aggressions. My siblings were spread out and living their own lives. This wasn't new really, we were mostly all loners anyways in our adolesence, however we were as close as siblings should be in childhood.  My friends didn't want to be around me anymore. They didn't want to experience the downward spiral of their friend. I understood, though I admitt, it still hurt. I grew tired of my aquaintances, my girlfriend, the parties. I didn't want them anymore. I didn't want any of it anymore. My soul was dead. My mind was destroyed. I could no longer feel. My limbs would spasm here and there as if they were trying to restart themselves. I'm sure all the speed running through my veins had something to do with it. My breathing became thin and slowly I began to sink. 

 

In and out of consiousness I would drift. My eyes rolling down from behind my head allowing me to look up and wonder what it would be like to let myself go. The darkness, the silence, the nothingness became so very comforting to me. I wanted to weep but couldn't find the tears. You see, when one is on a self destructive path, there is a level of acceptance that accompanies it. I understood that this was inevitable. I knew for a long time I would one day be here. I knew I would one day self destruct. No excuses, no tears, this was all of my choosing.

 

For a split second I thought about my childhood , only later realizing that this was not my life flashing before I pass. I remembered my home in Texas. I remembered how the warm dry desert wind would feel against my face. How the whitest , fullest clouds would look against the bluest sky's I had ever seen. I thought to myself "If this truly is the last breathes of your life you are preparing for, wouldn't you like to see these scenes again, just one last time?"

 

I forced myself to sit on my bed. I forced my eyes to focus and forced myself to stand up and walk outside for some fresh air. I sat on the front steps and allowed the brisk autumn breeze to wake me. I lifted my head and watched the orange sun break through the dark stormy clouds. The mellow- dramatic scene moving my soul.  The fog gently dancing with the leaves of the trees. I closed my eyes and listened to their music.

 

"One last time" I agreed.

 

By the end of the week I had quit my job (which I was bound to get fired from anyways for missing so many days) I was on my way back home.

 

After almost coming face to face with death, not of my choosing but at the will of a tornado on the way to my small Texas town, I finally arrived late at night, and immediately fell asleep. Was this natural brush with death universal irony, devine intervention or some sort of metonia? I guess the answer is left to perception. 

 

I woke to a breeze gliding in through an open window. A warm dry breeze softly brushing my face. I opened my eyes and stared out to see the whitest, fullest clouds float against the bluest sky's I had ever seen. It was unbeleivable how beautiful the sky looked. I rose and walked outside to the balcony. I stared out into the range I grew up knowing. I stared out at my begginging having been so close to my end. I closed my eyes and let the experience soak in. I opened my eyes.

 

"One more time" I thought to myself. 

 

"Let's try this life thing one more time."