It was surreal: Standing outside of her work at sunset, her beautiful green eyes filled with tears. The engagement ring in my pocket, I'm dumbfounded. I try to process things, but I can't seem to focus.
I lose my cool and say dumb shit. Completely frustrated, I get in my car and tear out of there like an asshole. As I make the the first turn on the way home, I slow down. I feel so utterly and completely defeated.
Suddenly, so insignificant.
-----
I sat shotgun as my father sped down a narrow road. My mother, in the back seat. We had just buried my uncle, right beside his father.
Being a Native American cemetery, we had to dig the compacted, stony, frozen ground by hand. Exhausted, I stared out the side window, my eyes tracing the silhouettes of the tall evergreens against the overcast sky.
As we turned through a slight bend in the road, from the recesses of one one tree, two bald eagles took to the air. Hovering no more than 30 feet above us, they playfully weaved back and forth. For the next mile or so, they continued to match the pace of the car before eventually disappearing over a stony ridge.
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I stared at the menu, a bit confused, sitting in the middle of a busy Korean BBQ. Our table had a grill installed in the center of it. Apparently, after paying an entrance fee, you point to your menu, at which point they'll bring you something to grill. From there on out, it's all on you to cook things.
The menu is expansive. After toying with beef steak and pork, we thought we'd be adventurous, moving on to squid and finally, tripe.
If you ever find a place like this, I would recommend against finishing up with tripe. See, the catch is: if you don't finish everything you order, they charge you extra. By the end of the meal, you have a giant pile of tripe and you have to eat *all* of it.
Now that's just poor planning.
However, we emerged victorious. Slightly buzzed and filled with at least four types of animal, we make our way across town in search of a good time.
-----
Cleaning her bathroom was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. As I scrubbed, the light residue from her expensive girl products filled the house with her trademark smell. I turned on the exhaust fan and lit a candle, but it didn't help.
Scalding water and tears, down the drain.
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The 'celebration of life' was lackluster -- more coworkers than family, more sparkling cider than champagne. While it was apparent that everyone had the utmost respect for the man, it rang a bit hollow. Having to explain my new-found bachelor-status put me in an even stranger mental space. After mulling around for awhile, I said my goodbyes, exited the building and hopped in my car. In a few hours, the high-desert landscape would transform into roving plains into dense forest into the city.
As I exited the town, the skyline opened up and the traffic disappeared. A dark cloud over my head, I was intent on leaving it behind. I punched the gas and sliced through the Oregon highway. The rain became torrential as the scablands turned into forests on a deserted stretch of highway. Both my stereo and my windshield wipers full-blast, I push the car harder, to no avail.
The dark cloud appears to be omnipresent.
-----
Severely sick, I can barely breathe. Swallowing requires heroic effort. The pounding, pulsing headache only seems to recede when my temperature starts climbing.
When ill, I retreat to sleep -- hibernate my way through things. But this time, there's no solace to be found, for the fever brings dreams. Strike that -- vivid nightmares. Starring her.
I woke, head against the soaking bare sheet. I thought sweat, on account of the fever, but it turns out that I'd been sobbing.
---
We arrive in LA nearly broken by road. Hungry. Tired. I have to piss. 1/16 of a tank left. Find a gas station. GPS is malfunctioning. Wrong turns. Traffic. Our hosts have assured us that we're looking for a giant smokestack, and that they live at the base of it. Neither of us really have any idea what the fuck that means, but we push on. As we turn the corner, a monolithic smokestack emerges from the concrete scenery. And, as promised, there they lived.
'BREWERY' marks the spot.
-----
I knew the regional inventories and prices better than the dealers. There were exactly nine of them in a 1000 mile radius. Six of which were at a local dealership. Two of them, the right color. One, the right engine. And I'd had my eye on it for the past six months.
I walked in with a cashiers check for exactly 15% below sticker price, folded in half, in my wallet. I asked for a test drive. They copy my license, insurance and give me the keys. I'd driven the car about five months prior and was pleased to see that the odometer had only increased by 12 miles. Probably only one other test drive in all that time -- good for me: these cars aren't moving.
Twenty minutes later, I return the car and tell the dealer I have cash. After some light negotiation, we agree on my price and he draws up the paperwork. Thirty minutes later, it's mine.
Ridiculous, extravagant and so goddamn rad.
-----
The first time in five years, I made the voyage to my parent's place for Thanksgiving alone. Excessive traffic added unnecessary length to the emotional trip. Bags in hand, I arrive and sheepishly make my way to the front door. I'm greeted with warm hugs from familiar arms.
We catch up as I make myself a stiff cocktail. A healthy fire blazing, hearty laughter echos throughout the house. It's all smiles, but it's readily apparent that something is clearly missing.
Then, I realize that I've played out a painfully similar scene, eight years earlier.
-----
New job. New commute. New morning routine.
New building. New people. New desk.
New view. New computer. New technology.
New projects. New opportunities. New excitement.
New found optimism.
-----
I miss finding her hair, everywhere.
I miss how'd she'd buy me pants.
I miss her racist jokes.
I miss her burnt-ass pancakes.
I hate how much mental energy I expend on the issue.
I hate hearing old, shitty songs in supermarkets and not having anyone to laugh with.
I hate cold beds.
I hate thinking about her. All the days.
-----
About seven hours into the drive from LA to Portland, I start losing focus. My mind has been running circles all day, having no one to keep me company. I look in the rear-view mirror and hardly recognize myself. Dark eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. Unkempt hair. A week's worth of beard. I take off the sunglasses and inspect my visage in the rear-view. I chuckle -- I look tore all the fuck up.
The sun setting, I pulled off I-5. Turning into a service station, I pump some gas and obtain a refreshing beverage. Walking back to my car, the wind cuts with a chill. I can see my breath. The sky is dark, nothing more than a thin sliver of pink on the horizon. Suddenly, completely unannounced, an overwhelming flood of memories slice right through me.
The cool air stings my lungs. I take a deep breath and imagine the stinging as a vile venom in my body. I slowly exhale, watching it fade into the breeze.
Climbing back into the car, I adjust my rear-view, turn the stereo way the fuck up and gas it.
-----
Upon arriving home, I'm clearly in a mild state of shock. Everything had tumbled so quickly. What the fuck just happened? For reals? Goddamnit, I have to work tomorrow.
Quick, lucid flashes of frustration, confusion, anger, sadness.
First order of business: loud music.
Second order of business: a fat stack of blank paper and a red pen.
Third order of business: GYST (get your shit together).
I sat there for hours, writing and writing and writing. List after list after list. Trying to make sense of it. Trying to figure out what the fuck I was going to do.
-----
A certain state of mediation can be achieved while driving. The equation is variable, but there are a few constants: loud music, minimal traffic and (typically excessive) speed. At some point, the subconscious takes control of the vehicle, letting your mind wander.
After 10 hours of solid I-5, I realize that there is but one option:
I must move on. I must realize that the book is closed. With this devastating change comes great possibility -- I must exploit the opportunity.
I felt a smile crack on my lips. A world of possibility.
A time for reinvention.
Freedom.
Let's do this.