Imagine, fucking imagine that. Look at them hanging there, look at them and know a few more seconds in that noose and theyíre dead.
Imagine itís someone you love so dearly. Someone thatís so close to you.
Imagine, really fucking see it, really feel it. Try and know what that would be like.
Now imagine the moment their about to die lasts for five years. Youíre looking at that person dying for five years.
Imagine that, and youíll know what itís like to have a brother addicted to cocaine. A brother that you had to go visit in the hospital because his heart began beating irregularly after doing coke for three days straight. Not sleeping, just snorting cocaine up his nose.
Thatís my brother. The person I consider my best friend. Heís so smart. Heís funny and heís such a talented drummer. But heís killing himself, and I see him hanging in that noose every time I look at him. Heís killing himself and thereís not a god damn thing I can do about it. Iíve tried talking to him. Tied telling him what heís doing isnít right, isnít good. Iíve tried to tell him how worried I am about him. Iíve tried yelling at him and telling him that heís stupid. But nothing works. He still does it. He even borrowed $30 from Anne one night at the bar to go out and buy coke. Borrowed thirty dollars from my best friend to go buy fucking drugs when Iím sitting there paying his bar tab.
Iíve even told him heís all I have. When mom and dad are dead, itís just going to be me and him. We have no other family. Theyíre all scattered all over the states and we donít speak to them. Weíve cut off contact with everyone on my dadís side of the family. Same thing with my momís side. Except for her mom and sheís getting old and probably wonít be around much longer. So, pretty soon itís just going to be me and my brother. And heís killing himself. I told him that. I told him that Iíll be all alone some day and I donít want that. He has his son, Jacob to think about too. Does he want Jacob do be without a father? He doesnít really have one now, so it probably wouldnít be much different for him. My brotherís never there when he needs him. Erica had to take Jake to the E.R. the other day because he had a fever that spiked to 106. Erica called him and told him and he didnít care. When she brought him home from the hospital he wouldnít even get out of bed to check on him or to say hello. Like he didnít even care.
Thatís all he lives for anymore. And itís going to kill him. And I donít know what to do.
When I was little, this was never how I imagined things would turn out. He was suppose to go to college, study percussion and be a famous drummer. He was suppose to be doing more than he is now.
And no matter what, somehow he manages to get bailed out of every fucked up situation he gets himself into.
And god, there was so much more I wanted to say about this and itís all left me. Iím empty right now.
Thereís a secret fear Iíve been carrying around the past few weeks. I was absolutely scared to death I was pregnant. Because yes, I, the one who swore Iíd never have unprotected sex did indeed do that. Twice. Yeah, Iím a moron. I did go and get the Plan B pill, but that only protects against one instance and there were two. But, I think Iím out of the woods because I stared my period today. Iím making an appointment next week to go get all my thorough tests and such done just to make sure everythingís ok and I will never again be so fucking stupid and blasť about it.
Havenít talked to David in a few days. I miss him. HAvenít even seen him in over two weeks.
I got amazingly drunk on Friday and Told Brandon, the bartender, that Iíve had a crush on him for so long. Also told him what I said I would a few posts back about how I know heís not happy and would love to do anything to make him happy.
I need to stop talking when Iím drunk.