If I told you I spent seven years in exile and somehow found my way back would you call it hyperbole, destiny or some other adjective.
Would we turn on the music, grab a drink and turn back time or say that we didn’t have to go back because we could start from exactly where we are.
If I said I went through hell covered in gasoline and kept going for no reason other than a need to tell the world the Brussels Sprouts suck and Chunky Peanut Putter is inferior to Creamy would you nod your head and say you always knew I was right.
Or would you shake your head no, but admit there is a certain charm and romance here.
I have my ideas but I shall not speculate upon them here instead I will say I said I would return and I did.
The man looked at me and asked what my problem is and I told him that my tiny black heart hurts.
“You’re lying sir, you don’t have a heart.”
Nodded my head and said he might be right.
“If you knew what I have done to get to this place and how hard it was you might have a different sort of appreciation. Or maybe I’d still be a monster, but some still love the monster because they just do, even when they don’t want to.”
But no one has hugged the monster in months and maybe that is why he outran two trains and played in traffic because for a moment he felt…alive.
****
Somewhere between the first and the seventh bottle of a 12 pack he realized there are still a few things he can do like he once did and laughed.
“Going to hurt a bit in the morning.”
“No, it is going to hurt a lot. But if you give me your car keys I’ll pretend I didn’t find you in the back seat of your car.”
He looked up and asked when security guards started wearing plastic badges.
“Ask again and you can wear bracelets in the back seat of my car.”
He looked at the picture and said “you think I won’t ever leave and that all this proves I can’t or won’t. You ought not test that hypothesis because one day I may be gone.
One day you might find you missed out on the best love you could have had and that you let some other guy fool you into thinking mediocrity is enough.
Kids are only young for so long and then they are old enough to fly and recognize mom and dad have their own lives too.
That day comes faster than you think and maybe faster than you like but none of it makes a difference because it happens regardless.
And then he laughed and walked out the door into a new future.
