Half & Half, Joy & Rot

I'm with Anthony and Kris. Sitting on a hillside in Albany watching KRS-One. It's evening and I have an eight dollar plastic cup of wine in my hand and sunglasses on my face. I haven't seen Anthony or Kris in nearly a year. The music was loud and we're there to see the show, so catching up and small talk would come later. I text Michael between songs.

"Are you at KRS-One?"

He doesn't answer and I scan the crowd for you, like I scan every crowd, but you aren't there. I'd have seen you immediately. I'd have felt you. I'm half relieved and half disappointed. 

My phone buzzes and distracts me. Michael. "Yesss."

I don't respond. Still stuck on the idea of 'what if I run into you' and 'what would I say' and 'should I even say anything'. I'd be afraid it'd ruin your day, so I imagine I'd try to stay out of sight and leave quickly. I scroll through our last conversation. Read it all. Again. Disappointed. Heartbroken. Keep trying to let go, but I can't. I've never been able to with you. 

Maybe someday my heart will get the point. Maybe someday I'll accept it.

The song ends. The show ends. The wine is gone and the three of us stand.

"Do you want to hang?" Anthony asks me.

"Of course, yeah. I usually stay in Troy though, so I don't really know any places around here."

"My cousin gave me some suggestions," Kris says. "The Old English? Do you know that place?"

"No," I say. "But let's just do that."

We all agree to get to our illegally parked cars and meet there. I text Michael back.

"Going to the Old English if yr sticking around."

I've been making a determined effort since getting out of the hospital to be near friends. Especially Michael. Neither one of us were in good places and we lost some friends a few months back, so we had decided that we need to spend more time together. It was the right call.

Walking back to my car I continue to watch the crowd for you. In case. I know it's fantasy. I know it's stupid. I can't help it.

The Old English is exactly what you are picturing. We are loud. Laughing. Yelling. Good to be around friends. They eat, but I don't. I have a cabernet and we talk about music and Plattsburgh. Touring and the old days. I can't help but find the sadness in all of it. In everything. I'm joyful in this moment but I can feel the rot climbing through me. We stay for an hour or so and leave. Anthony and Kris are headed north to stay with William and Frances before they make the drive back to Plattsburgh, and Michael, Paul, and I decide to go into Troy to a bar we know. It's a Thursday and we think we will be able to talk.

I get to Troy first and walk the block. Scanning the people. Relieved, disappointed. You're like a ghost. Always with me.

We have drinks. We share secrets. We laugh more and talk about the same old shit. We reminisce about the people we lost, people we love, dreams we've let die, and Insane Clown Posse. Joy and rot. It doesn't ever leave me. The rot always slithering inside of me. Growing and contracting. Fight the sadness and void as much as I can. Do all the tricks. Do everything right. It never leaves. 

Before I leave I order a pizza to be delivered to my house. I glance at the bathroom where a few months back you were sending me half-heart hand gestures and selfies and I cram that down inside me. 

Hug my friends. Say good night to the bartender, and leave.

At home I put a movie on. The pizza arrives and I begin to write and eat. I finish and I walk in the bathroom and take the small amount of pills I'm allowed to have. Twenty seven in total. I don't know if it's enough, but we'll see. I wash them all down with kratom. I don't set the coffee maker up because I won't need it. I write one general letter and I post it to my blog. I'm sorry. Goodbye. 

I turn the lights out, strip down, and climb into bed. I got to see my friends and feel love. Good enough. I close my eyes.

Four hours later I'm jolted awake. I'm balled up in pain and sweating and then I'm throwing up violently in the dark. I'm just not allowed to die.

Finish throwing up, delete the letter, and head back to bed. Half relieved, half disappointed.