His Death

I always had a ritual when someone died. I'd pop in a CD I had made, and hit repeat on number ten- and just sing along. Track ten was always I Will Follow You Into the Dark by Death Cab for Cutie. I'd just listen to it over and over again.

I hated gearing up for the funeral. This one in particular. I wasn't sure if I should even go, but I made my own choice. I put my suit on, all black with a little white. I combed my short hair. Put my sunglasses on that I had always put on. My nicer shoes I had gotten to wear for interviews.

I drove to the cemetery, the middle of fall there were leaves everywhere. The sun shone bright above the graves. A line of cars marked the drive, as chairs sat in front of a podium and a casket. It was like something out of a movie.

I sat in my car, watching. I was late, never could be on time for anything he put on. I saw people who wanted nothing to do with me, crying. I saw people I hadn't spoken to in months. Everything changes in the blink of an eye.

I got out and walked across the lawn, crunching leaves. I quickly took a seat behind a few I still spoke with. I couldn't listen to the man preaching something about God as I sat there. I could only play the song over and over in my head.

"At this time we ask friends and family to come forth to say a few things about Vincent."

I listened to his family and friends remembering the good times. Saying he would be missed. One saying they wished his death could've been avoided.

"Does anyone else want to speak at this time?"

"I would," I said loudly- the song still playing in my head. The man nodded and gave me the podium.

I walked up slowly, everyone's eyes on me. My sunglasses covering my eyes, and how I truly felt. As I got closer I could see his lifeless body for the first time in the casket. Nothing seemed real.

"Hello everyone. Some of you may not know me. I was Vincent's friend during college. To many of you, I was a friend too. I was told I shouldn't come here today, because people would think I was dancing on his grave due to our falling out. That's not why I'm here.

"I'm here because life is fickle. One day you're eight years old and carefree. The next you're thirteen and wondering what's going on with your body. And the next thing you know, you're married with your own eight year old. People change, and we all change with them.

"For Vince and me, life was fickle. We had our ups and downs. We grew apart. And we had a bad falling out. But I changed just as he did. I'm a forgiving man, now. That's why I'm here. Not to just forgive, but to forget those downs. I'll forget the disagreements, him and I acting like assholes to each other. I'll forget the hate, because life is too fickle to remember that.

"Instead I'll remember him as a friend," I nodded. "I'll remember him as someone who was willing to help someone who was dealing with more issues than anyone could know. I'll remember him for bringing together the friends we had, instead of separating us. I'll remember every laugh, and every smile. Because that's all that matters.

"I have a ritual when someone in my life dies. I'll play this song over and over again. I Will Follow You into the Dark. So, Vince- despite all the bad we had at the end, if there's no one beside you- I'll follow you into the dark. I'll follow you into the dark."

I stepped down. I couldn't tell what people were doing. I didn't care. All I could hear was the song playing in my head. The man stood there, preaching his last words. I watched as the casket was closed and the coffin lowered into the ground.

Everyone else went to throw a bit of dirt on top, as I disappeared to the back of the cemetery. I breathed in the new fall air. I watched and listened to the birds and saw squirrels playing on the graves.

No one said anything to me as I stood there. No one said hello or goodbye to me. The cars slowly left. I looked back at the scene and nodded.

"I hope the dark isn't too bad, old friend."

The wind picked up like a movie. I got into my car and turned it on. The radio turned on, track ten still on repeat. I drove off, listening to the song one more time.

Push

I can't keep doing this. I can't keep pushing for success to only fail.

"What do you mean I still owe you a thousand dollars? I paid that off last month. No, I did. I even wrote a check and everything. Well, the cash is no longer in my bank account so of course it was cashed. You know, why don't you go see what's going on with your computers messing up and get back to me."

I couldn't keep lying. It wasn't going to last. The debt was filing in and there was nothing I could do. They say 90% of new businesses failed, but I had a surefire plan. I knew how business worked. I had the best people, I pushed and worked harder than anyone else. How could I fail?

"Mr. Delaney, your father is on the phone."

"My father?"

"There's a Benjamin on the phone for you."

"Benjamin isn't my father. He's my step father."

"I'm sorry Mr. Delaney, should I take a message?"

"No, I'll answer it. Thank you Pat."

I hated this man. He married my mother when I was 20 and in college. My mom had kept my room exactly the way it was while I was away, and he took out everything valuable, sold it, and told me nothing in life was free and that I had to earn everything. I then told him I had earned many of what was in my room from working odds jobs since I was 13. He didn't relent.

"Andy, it's your father."
"You're not my father, Ben."
"And you're not my asshole son of a bitch son who promised me a giant return if I invested in his company. What is going on with you?"

Debt. I had pushed myself to deal with the bullying of high school to graduate at the top of my class, so I could go to any college I wanted to. Wasn't smart enough to get any of the scholarships I wanted though, and was forced to pay for college myself. $100,000 for 4 1/2 years and I learned little that I could use. When they wanted money back for all those loans, I was pushing myself working two jobs dealing with idiots that probably didn't have their GEDs calling me a rude bastard for not caring about their days and not wanting to fake caring, especially when the companies I worked for pushed me to the edge of exhaustion and still wanted more.

Then I took to doing anything I could for money so I could pay for food. I was starving most the time when working, because I just couldn't afford anything. Days would go by with no sleep. In my free time I would apply for jobs. Having to work through college, you don't get internships and experience. And everyone wants experience.

So I pushed harder. I found investors. I found people that liked my ideas. I got enough money to make way into opening up my own business. I hired the best team around. And then everything started falling apart.

"Hello? Andy are you there?"
"Yes Ben, I'm here. Sorry. I just. Things aren't going to well in my life."
"Don't tell me it's because Laura left you."
"No. It's been awhile, I'm sure I've moved on from her breaking off the engagement."
"Listen, I don't know what it is and I'm sure I'm the last one you want to tell- but if you need someone always know Pastor Thomas is there."
"Thanks Ben. I have some work to do, I'll call you back tonight."

If only I believed in God any more after all the bad things that happened. Laura had been my dream girl for two years after I graduated college. We worked together, and she understood my situation better than anyone I had ever dreamed of. She was supportive in everything, but one day it was just over. Some say we were too young. Others say she was cheating on me with other guys. I simply say, it is what it is.

I fell into a bad place, but pushed myself to move on. Nothing was bringing her back, and nothing ever would. I threw myself into work, unfortunately ignoring many of my friends from before. I find a few had been bad mouthing me behind my back, and told them off for it. Close friends I had known for years walked away from me. I threw myself into work.

A piece of paper sat on my desk. The pen was in my hand, waiting.

I found some of the best graduates around, and hired them. I had the investor's money to do it. I had the time now. I had everything I needed to do what I needed to get the business of the ground. Then as we were about to launch our website, our Internet went out. Checking into it, the entire internal network had a virus. It took us a month for us to get back to where we were.

Money was lost. I had to pay employees, costs of repair. The entire advertising campaign had to be scrapped due to timing, and I wasn't sure where to go from there.

The pen was heavy in my hand. I could feel it tilting back and forth.

More friends left me. I had to push myself, and nothing was going to stop me. Nothing except life. I needed more money from investors, and no one was giving me the time to even talk to them. A few places, schemes mostly, wanted me to basically borrow money from them. I took the bait on one, and wound up in more debt than I could afford. My business was basically in ruin. When I fired one of the guys who was getting paid too much, everyone knew what was going on. Others began to leave from finding other jobs. I brought in lower paid kids who didn't know what they were doing. Everything began to fail no matter how long I stared at the figures.

"Dear Loved Ones," I wrote, finally moving the pen to the paper.

I began drinking a lot. Tried to go back to school to get another degree, but didn't go further than looking into it. Too expensive for a guy my age. I applied to jobs, posted videos, posted everything I could to try to get someone to help. And nothing. I was simply waiting for it all to fail.

"I cannot live this life any more. I am depressed. I push harder and harder hoping for something and nothing comes of it. Nothing works out for me. No matter how hard I push, I keep pushing harder and no one seems to understand that. It was my fault many things happened between some of us, the bad things. I'll take that blame, even if it wasn't my fault. We have to blame someone."

I looked at the paper and took a deep breath. I twirled the pen around in my fingers. I took the paper and crumbled it up, throwing it in the trash can. I packed up my things and left the office.

I drove home and changed out of my suit. I left the house again and just drove. For hours I drove around the city, around the suburbs, around the country we had. I saw everything. As I was driving, I found where I used to live as a child. Down the street was a park I hadn't been to in years, despite not living more than 15 minutes away. I parked and saw the basketball court, where my friends at the time and I played.

I popped my trunk, took out the deflated basketball I had in there from college, and walked over. Each shot felt good, even if I missed. I had no cares in the world. My phone wasn't going off, as I had shut it off. No one was bugging me about the debt I owed them. I was relaxed with each shot.

It was a better shot than the liquor I had every night. And it was better than what I had planned to do that evening.

I waited until darkness to leave, then sweaty from the small exercise I had been doing. I drove home, happier than I had been. Not thinking about the stress I was going to face, because I knew that I had to just keep pushing.

I knew that I had to keep that drawer in my desk locked. The only shooting I would be doing was basketballs, and for the stars.

The Burning: Part II

I turned the radio's dial down to a mere 3, as I watched her walk up to her front door. It had been months since I had seen her. Months.

"Thanks, love you too!" she said to her new boyfriend. At least, I could only make out that it was a guy I hadn't ever seen before. And there she stood, looking at her door, keys in hand, confused.

I put my hand, covered in a black glove, on the door to my car. I stepped out, body covered in a large coat, my face with a scarf over it, and sunglasses and hat to top it all off. I closed the door and slowly walked towards her.

She got her cell phone out and began dialing. "Daniel, weirdest thing my front door's lock is melted shut. I can't even get a key in and the door is still locked."

I walked slowly, my head down. My boots made little noise as they clacked on the sidewalk.

"Alright, I'll try to break the door down. Yes, please come back I'm a little scared now."

She hung the phone up and started to beat on the door with her whole body.

"Need some help?" I asked.

"No, I-" she looked up and saw me. She didn't recognize me. She was scared, because my outfit didn't fit the weather. Not that I would notice. "I'm good. Thank you."

"Here, let me lend you a hand." I said, taking my glove off and walking up to the door.

"No, really, it's OK."

I put my bare hand on the door to watch it melt off. The metal was putty in my hands.

"You did that to my door?"

"I did, Claire. We should talk."

"Daryl?"

I motioned her inside, as I pushed the door open. She wasn't sure what to make of me, but was visibly less scared than before.

"Daryl, what are you doing here?"

"My experiment. I figured out how to splice genes."

"Why are you wearing such a ridiculous outfit?"

I looked at the ground. I felt like crying. Like a tear was stuck. I took the hat off first, then the sunglasses and scarf. I slowly took my jacket off.

"Oh my...what have you done?"

My body had become infused with diamonds. My hair had fallen off as a side effect, all of my hair. There was none anywhere on my body. Instead my body was encased, mostly, in a crystal like substance. My face was the worst, with my eyes looking like glass. My nose at one point since the transformation had gotten hit, and cracked. The body didn't regenerate and the crystal was not as strong as diamond.

"This is who I am now. My research. I did this because of you."

"Because of me? Why would you do something so stupid?"

"Why would you?"

She knew what I meant when I said it. She knew I meant leaving me, finding another guy. Finding Daniel.

"Listen, Daniel is nothing like you. He's a great guy but-"

"I don't want to hear it. You fucked up, and yeah...I thought this was change things but instead it just made it worse. I thought I could change the world, and now look at me. I'm an outcast."

"Can't you just change back?"

"That's not how it works, Claire. This is how people see me, and will always see me. Even if we try to go back, this is what we've done. You fucked up my life."

"I still love you."

"I don't care. I just don't fucking care."

I moved out a chair, forgetting I had the glove off, and felt my hand collapse through as the chair caught on fire. I quickly put it out, putting my glove back on and attempting to sit down in a different chair.

"When I started I told myself I would make things better for both of us. That no body would destroy me, not even you. I could build myself up to levels you couldn't touch. Superhuman strength, heat levels that created fire, electricity running through me. Diamond tough skin. None of it worked. No one cared about me and just left me. You know what I've done to them?"

"What have you done?"

"I killed them all. I held them by their throats with this bare hand of mine and felt as their blood splattered over my hand. I watched as I tried to make everything better, and instead all I did was kill all of those people that left us. That left me."

"You're a murderer, Daryl?"

"I killed them, Claire. I fucking killed all of them. Then I burnt them to nothing with my bare hands."

"Please, just realize I love you Daryl. Even now with you in whatever state you are, it's taking everything in me to not hug you right now."

"You can't. The crystal is somewhat sharp and sometimes can be hot."

She looked at me with a tearful eye. "You know I love you, right?"

"Of course I do. You know why I came here, right?"

"To tell me how I ruined your life? How you killed all those people and plan to kill me?"

"No. To say I loved you too. And to say goodbye one last time."

"Goodbye? Daryl, please don't go. We can talk. Like I said, Daniel means-"

"Nothing. Nothing can stop me."

"Please, just- wait. You need to at least be in a hospital. Something."

"They couldn't do anything to help me."

"What do you mean?"

"The crystal is slowly taking over my entire body. Once it encases it, I'm fairly certain the heat will reach such heights that my body cannot take it. Once that heat builds up my internal organs will burst. That is, if the crystal doesn't get to my blood or organs first."

"You're dying."

"That I am."

"But there's so much to do, so much to see with you."

"I'm going to be dead soon. Let's just focus on the good times. Like every time I was with you." My breathing felt somewhat heavy. I found it harder and harder to breathe.

"You're so sweet." She smiled. "I wish I hadn't chosen the path I had."

"We all make mistakes. Just like I did with this experiment. But hey, you're in a better place I'm sure. You have Daniel. I'm sure he's not a douchebag."

"Actually, he is kind of a douchebag."

"Dump him, you could do better. You could always do better than me, and you settled. You were the hot one."

"Now you're the hot one." She said, giggling.

"Heh, funny."

We sat for an hour, just talking until Daniel showed up and knocked on the door.

"Fuck off." I told him. Claire went and got rid of him. It was another hour before my breathing got heavier. I became sleepy.

"I'm going to lay down on the floor here, Claire."

"OK. Keep talking to me though." She had tears running down her face.

"I will. Always. I just need a nap right now."

"Well, I'll be here when you wake up."

I didn't know where I was going when I woke up. I had traveled hundreds of miles to see her- killing people for months on end and hiding from cops. Hiding from everyone. And now all I could think of, was her voice.

"Oh hey, I brought you something. You left this in my car. I want you to still have it." I handed her the diamond bracelet I had given to her the night we broke up. She read the engraved quote, her favorite from Farenheit 451 "It is a pleasure to burn."

"I liked that quote because it has so many connotations. You could use it to mean the books. You could use it as an ironic statement. You could use it as a parody of what they really want you to do. Or you could use it as a literal statement, taking pleasure in the act of burning. Or you could even say, the idea of burning things into our memories. A burning desire for love or lust. So many questions of what it is a pleasure to burn."

"I'd burn for you." I said out loud. "But after I wake up."

"After you wake up," she said putting the bracelet on and watching me fall into the deepest sleep she'd ever see someone go into. "After you wake up."

Yes, I'm Still Alive

Good news: my computer is back up and running. A whole month after I was going to throw a huge ad campaign (surprise) at the Internet for Death in Disguise. Unfortunately, I'm no longer doing that ad campaign- but I hope you readers will still let all of your friends know about us. Or you yourself can like us on Facebook!

What I'm working on: A ton of things. Sadly, unless people start sending me things, I may only update the site occasionally. Once I work some kinks out, though, I'll be getting a lot of things done. Here's what I'm working on behind the scenes:

1. Soft news reports: I'm a journalist at heart, and once I find a good freeware program for editing video I'll be working on getting some news out there on the YouTube. I was in talks with some people before the computer crash, and hopefully they'll still be interested.

2. Hilarious videos: I also like to humor myself by making videos I find hilarious. What might that be? I have an idea up my sleeve I'm not going to talk about JUST yet, until this cough of mine that is killing me goes away (and I find that dag nabit editing program). Other than that I was in talks about doing a sitcom series, another mockumentary, or even something along the lines of...Glee.

3. Freelance!: Yes, that's right. I'm working freelance now, or going to attempt to work freelance. You can see my first column over at Unexplained Mysteries from the other day when the world was ending. I'm working on getting my work in other places as well- and if anyone would like to use my work or is looking for freelance, feel free to contact me via our contact page.

4. The new novel: Yes sir, yes sir. I am working on a new novel- and it'll be coming to you via Amazon Kindle. The novel is going to be an expansion of the short story "The Connection" which you can find in my book. Remember, I have a book!

5. A video game: I am working slowly on a video game on top of all of this as well. 5 projects is nothing to me, kids. The video game I'm not really allowed to talk about due to agreements signed, and I'm not sure where it is at the moment- but I'm attempting to learn how to use this program called Blender. Once I do, I'll actually attempt to create a video for the site first. See if I can tell one of my stories in 3D animation...ooo, ahh.

As always, look for more writing (and art!) here and in the future. And feel free to send your artwork, poetry, short stories, or anything (you can send your amateur porn, but I can't promise it'll be posted. Viruses I would prefer not to have though, you can keep all of those to yourselves- both human and computer). Send them to asimpleletterwriting@gmail.com

Revelations

The doctor's office was always cold and though clean, felt dirty. Maybe it was because I had to take my pants off for my check up. And they always asked me to take my shoes off. This time I was in a gown, forced to have all my vital organs checked. Something was wrong with me, and I didn't know what it was.

"So Mr. Drab, what seems to be the problem?"

"I'm not sure. I have a lot of weird symptoms."

"The nurse wrote on your chart that you're constipated, you have frequent headaches, you haven't been eating properly."

"I'm just not hungry."

I watched as he looked over the words the nurse left him. He swallowed hard, rubbed his left eye and then sniffled.

"Not to be too personal, but how are you feeling?"

"Bad."

"How long have you felt...bad?"

"Awhile I guess."

"Do you have any problems with your mood?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you happy?"

"No."

"Did something happen to make you that way?"

Two years ago...

I stood on the carpet of the room and watched as they all came in. One by one, the new freshmen we had to welcome to our dorm. It was tradition, but I was getting tired of it. And it was only just then the first time we had a group meeting with them all.

I wouldn't see many of their faces again, but I noticed one of them.

"Hey, I'm Jim."

"Hi."

Megan was shy at first, but within minutes was talking.

"Yeah, I love that show. With the vampires and all, and none of that bullshit new sparkle shit."

She was beautiful. I had so much in common with her- we were both Catholic, we both watched the same TV shows, we both were interested in painting. She was spontaneous and such a free spirit. But she was taken.

"Yeah, my boyfriend is such a dork."

"He looks like one."

"Oh, shut up."

I backed away. It was only my place to be a friend, as much as I could at least. But I was only comfortable as a distant friend, a colleague. Even though I told myself I had moved on I hadn't.

Months later, everything began to fall apart. Megan and her boyfriend fell apart, our friendship was changing as she began to move away from our group of friends. And that final night was so much fun. As I left she grabbed my hand, held onto it tight and I realized I still felt strongly about her.

"I don't know what to do."

"She's not your type, why are you doing this?"

"But she is. I've never met a girl like her."

"Jim, she's not worth it. Stop worrying about her."

"I'm sorry Carol, I just can't."

Friends advice was thrown aside. I became impulsive, speaking with her and the guy she was flirting with.

"No, dude- come on Jerry, she has a boyfriend. We gotta get out there and find girls who are single."

"Yeah, you're right."

And then I felt bad. Guilt fell in. They were happy. How could I stop happiness?

"Just go out with him, will you?"

"Why do you care so much about my dating life?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Why not? You get all up in my business and then won't tell me why? Did he put you up to this?"

"No."

"Then why are you acting this way?"

"Because I've had a crush on you for months and I just want you to be happy, OK?"

I freaked out. I did the only thing I knew how to, and wrote. I wrote every stinging emotion I felt, that had no reason to be felt. I gave into all of it. I made them out to be the bad guy, when there was no good or bad guy. It was the only way I knew how to write. It hurt them, but more hurt her than anything else. And no matter what I did, she would never accept my apology.

"Two years ago? You've been feeling this way for two years?"

"No. That was just the start of it all."

"What do you mean?"

"After that..."

I had a year still left in college, but I had enough credits to graduate early. I moved on quick, stopped caring about girls and focused on getting the right credits. Even when she walked in, I wanted nothing to really do with her. It was just another year of new freshmen.

"And you are?"

"Eliza."

"Hi, I'm Jim. You new here?"

"Yeah, freshmen."

"Cool."

She seemed shy. I stopped trying after that. She was cute, but I had to focus on myself. I had to focus on me. It didn't matter anyways, because she was always on her computer whenever I saw her out of her dorm. Always keeping to herself.

Then, of course, I found out the same thing I did with every girl. She had a boyfriend.

I studied. I focused. I met this other girl, Mariah, in a class of mine. I thought about asking her out, but never got up the courage to. I didn't have time anyways, I had to focus on me and we only had fun working on a project together. We'd never get along outside of class.

Then Eliza was single. I thought nothing of it, and I was simply friends with her. Not even friends, colleagues. I wanted nothing to really do with her, because I was completely content with life. I just started a new job, I was still toying with asking Mariah out. Then we started talking.

I thought from the get go that she was flirting with me, and I didn't want that. I had to focus on me. But it's hard to do that when you feel alone as much as I do. I gave her time I shouldn't have, spent more hours working on papers than I should have. But I liked talking with her, even if it was only online as I sat in the library and her in her dorm room.

I didn't want a relationship though, and I had to nip it all in the bud before it got there. I confronted her.

"Eliza, are you flirting with me? Because I feel like you're flirting with me."

"Well, I mean- I can't say I am because it all just depends on whether or not I think it's flirting."

"So is this flirting?"

"Let's just say it's getting to know you better."

"OK. I can do that."

I asked her out the next time I saw her. As friends. Just to get some dinner. I didn't really think anything of it, I just went with the flow and I had a lot of fun with her. She then asked to hang out with me again, and we went shopping for the holidays.

"I like to make my presents instead of buying them. I feel like it's more personal if you do that"

"I don't have time to do that. Or the talent."

The entire day was amazing. I spent it with her, finding most my gifts for friends and family. And instead of my usual feeling of tiredness from shopping, I was just so happy with everything. Then it was all just...like a fairytale.

"It's so easy."

"What's so easy?"

"I can't tell you."

"C'mon, what's so easy?"

She kept quiet as I drove her home- a back and forth flirtation.

"Fine, you want to know?" she asked as we sat in her driveway. "Come here."

We grew closer, and she kissed me. I was lost. I didn't want a relationship, what was I doing? I pulled away, scared. "I'm not that easy." I said with a hint of flirtation. She got out of my car and walked up to her door.

I drove off, around her block and headed home. I smiled. Did that just happen? I asked myself the question again and again. I called my friend, who was supposed to meet me for dinner, and she didn't answer. When my phone rang I didn't bother looking.

"Hey Deb- I just dropped Eliza off I'm driving back now."

"Oh uh, it's Eliza."

"Oh, hey sorry." I had a smile on my face hearing her voice.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for what happened. If that made things awkward or anything."

"No, don't worry about it. It wasn't awkward."

"Oh. OK. Well, I'll let you get back to driving then. Bye."

I knew then and there she was amazing, but I didn't want a relationship. I had doubts. As I sat down to dinner with my friends, I told them nothing of what happened. Told them we had fun. I paid little attention to the conversation, as my brain threw around the idea of letting go of so much. I was graduating college soon, the holidays were around the corner. I wanted to apply to places out of state, out of the country. I wanted to live free. But she was different. I could give up some of that, because she made me happier than I had been in a long time.

I couldn't understand it, but though I had my fears I knew I wanted to be with her. The next thing I knew, we sat in the back of my car in freezing weather.

"So what are we doing here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like us. Are we just friends or...do you want to be more?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're going to make me say it, aren't you?"

"Say what?"

"Ugh, will you go out with me?"

"Well I've already been going out with you-"

"Shut up, you know what I mean." I smiled. So did she.

"Yes. I will."

"You don't think it's too soon do you?"

"No. I want to."

"Cool."

Nothing really changed. It was slow going. Which I liked. She was so understanding, and I didn't have to tell her anything. She just knew. We just worked so well. Then our ideologies got in the way. We began arguing over things we couldn't control. We were happy, but there were problems we had to work through and neither of us wanted to budge. We couldn't compromise, even though we wanted to.

Then she just snapped on me one day. I was making sure she was OK, asked her what the problem was and she said I was the problem. That I was being self-centered and idiotic because I was worried about her well being. It hurt. She had been pushing me away, and I knew it. She didn't even want to look at me the time before we hung out. She was done with me, and that was that.

I tried to talk her through our problems, but I broke down. Maybe because I had let go of so much for her. I had let go of my fears, I had let go of my plans for my future. Maybe it was my mistake. Maybe I should never had met her parents the week before. Maybe I should have waited to ask her to be with me, but I knew she was special and I didn't want her to leave me.

And then that was it. It was over. And I lost it. Because at that moment I realized Eliza was the only thing I had that was keeping me happy. And she walked away. Just like that.

"Mr. Drab, it seems like you might have some issues with depression."

"And then..."

I couldn't get over her. I saw her in everything. A measly less than two months with her, and I was more broken than I had ever been. I couldn't explain my behavior. I wanted nothing to do with anything. Nothing made me happy. All I wanted was her again. All I wanted was to make things better.

She wanted to be friends, so I tried that. She said close friends, but she still pushed away. And my own friends, they were only sort of there. Only a few talked to me about it, the rest acted as though it was a joke. But it's how they always acted.

Then I started telling them the truth. I had an impulsive desire to just come out and tell every single person who I had something to say to the truth. Every jackass that ever pissed me off, every motherfucker who crossed me. All the awful things I had done and held on to. I bitched, I laughed, I apologized.

"Mr. Drab, I'm not a psychologist. You need to speak with one, I believe. You have a lot of the symptoms of-"

"And then they started walking away..."

They didn't understand what I was doing. It wasn't normal for me to stand up for myself nor was it normal for me to apologize for all the little things I was apologizing for. No one understood but a handful of people. A very close friend then decided to walk away because I bitched out some girl he kept around in case he needed a picture of her tits. Because the people I hung out with were judgmental and hated being called out on it. And he was one of the worst.

"Seriously, Mr. Drab-"

It all came down on me. I wanted to die. I wanted to slit my wrists. I stood at work, in the kitchen washing dishes...I held the knife to my wrists. It took everything in me to not let the knife slice through. Everything.

"Mr. Drab, I-"

"And now I'm here. Because I can't understand why I feel so sick."

"I think you should definitely see a psychologist. I can recommend one. It doesn't seem like this is an issue I can deal with. It sounds like you're dealing with clinical depression. Might even be something else that makes you act this way."

"Are you saying I'll have to take pills?"

"Maybe."

"I don't want to take pills. I don't want to go to some crazy doctor. I just want my life to be better again."

"Here. You'll be fine, Jim. You'll be fine."

I hope so. I hope so.