I Wrote This on a Couple Napkins
Would she be proud of me? Is she somewhere feeling that I want to make decisions that will make her proud of me? Does she know that I want to look at me the way she once did? No.
Does it matter anymore? Absolutely. I want to be golden again. I want to be someone she would be proud to hold hands with. I don't want to be some lush that only comes out and is enjoyable when he drinks or buys or brags.
I want to be someone she would like to introduce at a family party. "This is Bret." And even before my name is let out a hushed breath in is felt and a prelude to my arrival has been wonderful things said about me. I would like to walk into that party and be engaging. I want to be able to make people laugh and feel comfortable. I don't want people to assume I will embarrass them. I'm so tired of being an excuse. I'm so tired of being nothing more than a punch line that ends with a whimper and a sigh.
I'll never see her again. I know that. I'll never see either of them again. I don't mind that so much anymore. It's the way it's supposed to be and it's the way I have made it. But every time I pass a window and look at my gaunt sunk in face or my circled eyes I like to imagine that someone is on my arm with their head on my shoulders and I am shielding them from the world. I would like to believe that I am held accountable for someone else's love and I am entrusted to be a good man. I'm not held to any standard though. I'm free to do whatever I want. And what I want is to be golden again.
