Wednesday, April 1, 2009

April Fool

Exactly one year ago, on April Fool’s Day, it felt like my life ended. It might as well have.

I couldn’t breathe anymore. I called anyone who would listen. Some did. Some didn’t. I panicked. I opened a bottle of rum and drank the whole thing that night. I did other things. I regret a few of them…

Full disclosure: My family put me on suicide watch for a few days (And that’s about as much detail as you get on that. Some things just can’t be said.). I packed up the charred remnants of my existence and tried to start over. Why?

Because 11 years of my life evaporated in one night and I became an April Fool.

It sounds melodramatic, I know, but 11 years counts for a third of my life. A full third of my life was rendered meaningless, overnight.

I get that things end. I really do. I understand that sometimes love makes no sense and sometimes it really ends terribly. It’s just that I never expected something like this to ever happen to me. I never saw it coming.

I was in love. She was not. And so she hurt me terribly. This is how things go.

It took a long time to even attempt to move on. I knew things were over. That wasn’t the issue. I had no intention or desire to try to fix what couldn’t be fixed. You can’t fix what’s no longer there.

My problem was that I didn’t know if I even wanted to start over. Most of the time, I didn’t.

It’s been a whole year. My attitudes have changed. But every once in awhile, it still gets to me. I hear a song on my iPod, or a stumble upon an old picture. And it hits me. Today is April Fool’s Day and thinking about it is unavoidable.

So, I’m gonna go to sleep in a little bit. And when I wake up, I’m hitting the bar. Am I celebrating? Commiserating? Wallowing? Time will tell. But I’ve got ten bucks to put in the jukebox in your honor. I’ve got a lot of drinking to do, all for you.

And then after all of that is done, your memory goes back into bank. I keep moving forward. And I’ll forget about you. Eventually.


  1. If I were closer I would come drink with you. I would sit 4 stools down so you could be by yourself but still have someone there if/when needed.
    I would make faces at you in the reflection of the bar mirror and you could pretend not to see.

  2. if i didnt know you had plans already later tonight, id come out. i mean wtf do i have going on out here?

    ill see you in a week. and give you all the hugs i wouldve give you today. i love you honey honey and you can always call me.

    in the mean time go see glenda. or is it cassie today? shit i cant remember.

  3. I'm starting to enjoy your posts ... the good, the new, the interesting, and even the bad.

    This is our mortal coil, Michael. Without experiencing the pain and grief in life, we can fully appreciate the happiness and joy we (eventually) come across.

    That's no April Fools. Ying/yang - oppostion in all things ... is a governing rule of the universe.

    Embrace it. It's part of you.

  4. Turn that "can" into a *can't, and you'll get my drift.

    Ugh, typos.

  5. I still volunteer to bust some kneecaps.

    It's really therapeutic.

  6. So I have read this post a few times now (on my blackberry last night even!) and it's just been bouncing around in my head all day.

    I don't have anything prolific to say. I've had pain like that in my life that has taken a long time to deal with. You just gotta keep putting one foot in front of the other. And you know that, you're a smart guy. :)

    (virtual hugs abound!)

  7. You don't sound melodramatic, you sound honest.

    bondon and I must go down there sometime, next time I'm in town, and force you to have a beer with us.

    Best wishes, *hugs*, E