He’s spent a lot of time thinking about it, trying to justify it, trying to explain it, but the more he thinks about it the more his stomach cramps and his mind gives way to snowballing dark thoughts. What he did was dangerous and reckless; this he knows and has come to accept. What he still struggles with is the fact that he very nearly took the lives of innocent people, that a matter of inches and seconds saved him from the ultimate life altering event, death.
He was drunk, as was common place those days, and was empty inside. He lived for nothing, cared for no one, and thought only of his own depressing existence. He had no reason to drive. He had nowhere to go and certainly no one to see. He should have stayed at the pub, at his table on the patio, in the sun, where he had been content drowning his nothingness all morning, but instead he stumbled to his car, started the engine, opened a beer from the back seat and took off.
He knew it was wrong, that it was reckless, and that what he was doing carried with it high potential for the ultimate consequence, but still he drove. He ran red lights, sped, went up one ways, and passed blindly. All the while laughing and crying at the same time. Between the beers, the tears and the sun, his head was spinning and he could barely see.
His younger being, the smarter happier side of him was shouting to stop, but the new him, his addicted and neurotic side told him faster, longer, harder, MORE. The new him prevailed. It always did. He finished his beer and opened another. He was in the suburbs now, mailboxes and parked minivans whizzed by in a blur. Children running through sprinklers on manicured lawns stopped and stared as he flew by, swerving, shouting, and throwing glass bottles to the sidewalk.
Things are beyond him. His darker self is in total control now. Faster, louder, faster, harder, things are spinning now; he can hardly see, certainly can’t hear and is beyond thought. He’s lost all reason to care. Drunken tears streamed down his face. For a brief moment, his lighter self emerges. It tells him to stop, to go to a safe place, to stop drinking, to stop taking drugs and to stop hurting himself. It tells him that he is going to hurt someone, maybe even kill someone. Darkness immediately clouds him again. Just as he thought about slowing down, the darkness challenges him, and he succumbs, like always.
A four way stop just up ahead. He is totally dark now. His foot hits the floor, springing the car ahead with a jolt that snaps his head back. No stopping now. As he charges the intersection, his vision clears. His first sight is a family in a minivan straight ahead. His vision is crystal clear now. He can see everything, the decals on the vans side, the car seat in the back, and the two young faces pressed against the side window, staring in shock. His heart stops, briefly but surely. And for a brief moment he feels the pain his is about to inflict on this family.
But it doesn’t happen. Whatever controls his light and dark sides has a different plan for him. The light comes through and he misses the van by inches.
Instantly sober, thinking clearly, seeing clearly, and sharply aware of his surroundings, he pulls into an alley and shuts off the car. He gets out, sits on the hood and raises his face to the sun. Has the sun always been this warm? If so, he hasn’t noticed it in years. He’s noticed the darkness, but in noticing it, the darkness has depressed his ability to acknowledge and embrace the light. The sun feels good on his skin; it warms his face as tears stream down his cheeks. Tears of sadness or joy? He does not know yet. He doesn’t know what to do next, so many things are uncertain, but one thing he knows for sure is that the darkness that has clouded him for so long is receding. He doesn’t know where it is going, for how long, or if it will be back. All he is certain of is that it is going, and that is enough.
