In my last post I spewed heartache goop all over the page, lamenting the loss of my old life. As the rollercoaster would have it, today I feel differently. A brief look at the facts helped.
Fact #1: It’s undeniable that I had some great fucking times “out there”; from house parties in the suburbs, to beers on beaches in Central America, to dive bars in Rome, and private jets to Utah, memories were made. I don’t have to pollute ALL of my past with where drugs and alcohol took me in the end. (Just have to remember what the end was like.)
Fact #2: Rome was a great time. But…it is marred by the fact that I spent the last night hounding my best friend’s friend for cocaine, as though it was the most important thing in the world. Once the dry goods were obtained, everyone carried on drinking like normal people and I snuck to and from the tiniest, dingiest, darkest, bathroom to blow lines off my passport till the wee hours of the morning. I lied all night…”I swear it’s all gone.”
Face #3: Some of college was hysterical; I’ll never forget my girlfriends rolling a keg across the lawn in torrential rain, right as the sprinklers went on, and as a cop drove by. I’ll never forget road tripping all the way to San Francisco at 3 in the morning with five of my friends to watch the sunrise, just to realize the sun rises on the east, (so we just watched it get light out.)
There are one hundred humorous recollections, but for every one good memory there are 1,000 regrets…for every one fun college night there were 100 days I couldn’t hold my head up walking across campus.
Fact #4: There were no laughs at the end, no “remember whens” or “let me see that picture.” Drugs and alcohol made all my choices for me; where I would end up, who I would go home with, where I would drive to during a blackout, and what I would say. The only decision I had left was to change.
Fact #5: In the past year I have learned more about life than in all 26 prior years. I’ve tapped into what it means to be a good person, how to ask for help, and most importantly how to help others.
I’ve restored relationships with my family, some of which I thought were irreparable.
It turns out I love rock climbing. And probably fly-fishing.
Turns out I still suck at cooking.
Best of all, I’m able to connect with whatever is keeping us all connected, and that’s a fact, too. Or maybe a feeling?