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Thursday, November 14, 2002

In an hour.


Probably going to meet at the Maple Room. That's our bar of choice, or was, before all this happened. Going to be me, him, and her. All face to face. This isn't going to be pretty. There's going to be a lot of crying, a lot of tears, and a lot of pain. And I have to realize, have to admit, that this isn't going to be a happy ending that leaves a yellow brick road for her and I to be together forever.

Oh no. I'm not a negative guy. I'm a realist. And the cold, hard reality of my situation is that all of us, and I do mean all of us, him, her, and me, are really going to be hurt by the end of the night.

Welcome to the Reverend Steve story.

I'm a wreck. Cold. Shaking. Sick. Scared. Haven't had any food in my body all day and I've been drinking like a fish since yesterday, wince he called. I wish I could have been a big man, a brave man, and stood up to him, stood up for her. But I was scared. I ran. I was scared and I ran. I ran away. I hid in the record store and hid in the Wendy's and hid in the mall and went to the bars I've never told anyone I go to and got so drunk that I don't know how I drove home, no idea how or when i went to sleep.

Think I tried to drink myself to death last night and goddammit if I didn't get damm near close. I wasn't a man yesterday so I san away, disconnected my phone, and just took off.

I'm sorry, Col. I'm sorry baby. I'm sorry I ran.

But tonight. S**t, in less than an hour, I'm going out there and doing it. Being honest. Being me. Being Reverend f**king Steve. Trying to make up for last night, you know? Am I scared? You're goddamm right I'm scared. I'm shaking just typing this thing here in my kitchen. Feel like I;m going to vomit at any time. I'm scared. I'm scared to death and I don't want to do this.

And I know how stupid cliche crap this is going to sound, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do, that old line of how a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, you know?

I'm not a religious man. Shit, I have my own religion I created in 1996. But, seriously. If you can, pray for me.


1 comment:

Reverend Steve said...

It's been five years since I've written this post. That's a long time. I'm married with a wife and two amazing daughters. But I remember this day like it was yesterday. I remember the drunken nights and the fighting and the packs and packs of cigarettes and the nights closing the bar and driving home drunk just to polish off another six pack. I remember the pain and the long lonely nights and the darkness that feels like its eating your stomach with dank thoughts of suicide.

I'm proof that everything gets better, even the darkest nights.