When I looked at the bedside clock, the digital semicolon blinked in and out the final seconds of 2011. I was in bed with Kina, my daughter was sleeping easy in the monitor and it was calmer outside than one might expect for an approaching New Year. Within those precious few seconds, the world, my world, came into focus for me. I've prayed, real hard, many of nights that the magic finger of God wag its mystical digit in favor of my direction. bless my heart, my wife's heart and seal our holy vows with a kiss to ring in the New Year, and remove any doubt the moment that clock turned over. 11:59.00 and counting and still doubts linger. I cannot blame myself, for I can only lie for so long until one lie, once covered up by a stack of more lies, finds its way back to the forefront. You are wasting your life away to someone who will never be anything more than the cold, distant, baggage handler who refuses an honest apology in order to nurture the poison that is her vicious and vengeful bite.
Kina is watching some music videos, drinking her wine, working out in her head how she might convince herself of the same doubts roaming freely in my mind. All I wanted LORD was one woman to love for life, why is that so much to ask? Don't worry, tomorrow is a new day. be thankful it will come, for it could all end with a quick simple stroke, perhaps a random heart attack? You have been under a lot of stress lately. Good point. And the momentum that had been building, the confidence to take the next step in my life, call it a day with my wife and shake hands that we both came out of it all with our dignity intact, suddenly takes a step aside for commonality. Go with what I know, what I am used to, what is definite, regardless of how negative an impact it may have on me. So I reach for my glass and tip it back. We both drink in silent remorse, for she has apparently made the same decision I have. Stay. Give it just a little more time. The old is about to fade into oblivion and the new limitless year will be upon us. We eye one another and smirk. "More wine?" Yes please.
11:55.05.
Hope has packed its bags. Look, if you are going to continually ignore the signs because you are afraid of change, I am just going to head out and find someone who can use me to the fullest. Good luck, schmuck. I am now hopeless. Fitting, considering the theme running around my brain. Just say you have had enough and move on. But...I haven't. My God, there is still so much to give and experience with her. So much can come if we both just let go...hell, if just one of us let go. Shut up and drink your wine. A thought derives from the pain, just drink until numb there is no shame in that. No shame. It does help, the wine, the alcohol of any kind, to quieten the thoughts. A stupor has more use than just making a fool out of myself. Because what you now read before you, comes out from my head like fcnwsoeifwoihf ewofhwufhwrui fiuffhiu fhsdoisoiu sofdvhsigvh oshvoisduhvodsiuf gvhw0gvhwseovhseo9vhe9ouvbhfpd oiudouif do. No wonder I cannot concentrate.
11:59.00
wggferouhg gfeegveoiu...just...relax....it will all be over...soon...A clean slate, start anew, make the most of tomorrow and be the husband and father you respect. She will come around. It will take some time, perhaps more than I want and willing to give, but she will see the good in change. Save her, Scott. Save your wife and do what no one has ever done for you. Right. Here we go. More wine. A little more. Feeling better. Numb. Thoughts slow. Breathe. There you are. Drink up. Atta'boy.
12:00.00
Happy New Year....Schmuck.
