Forever February.
It’s my third night in my own place. A cabin on the hillside of the New Hampshire mountains. Like I always have, I go to my pantry and get a bottle out of my box of six, which after tonight holds only five. I cross to my desk, turn my lamp on and tilt the shade so the light spills across the wood of the desk. Usually, a glass waits in the drawer. A royal chariot that takes me to where I want to be. I know what box it’s in and I go to pick it out.
The box has ‘Mark-Fragile’ scrawled on the side in red sharpie. I unfold the top. Shifting through my belongings, longing for the cool glass that means comfort, I brush against coarse leather. The family album. I can’t remember packing it, but I take it out regardless. I see my glass lay underneath and bring it to my desk. The snaps of plastic as I twist the cap bring a cool feeling of relief. I pour my first glass. My eyes turn, and I’m staring deep into the full amber leather that covers the album. A book full of what used to be happy memories. Day hikes and skipping rocks. Pool days and spitting watermelon seeds. Hugs and warm breakfast’s. The pages of my book turn with ever drink I take. The warm feeling of the liquid reminds me of how my life once was. All four of us together, a family. Wet drips patter on the yellow edged photos. ‘Pikes peak 2002 ‘passes through my vision. ‘Lena’s fifteenth birthday’ is next, followed by ‘Mark and Lena-Royal Caribbean’. The last pages are empty. No one took pictures of the bad times. Legal papers and counseling sessions. Tears and ‘Your mother and I want you to know this wasn’t your fault.’ At the end of my bottle, the book is empty. I’ve torn out the pages of my life ripped them in half and thrown them against the wall. They lay, littered around me. Like doves with broken wings, never to fly again. At the end, I’m staring into the empty bottle, but I don’t find my book anymore. I find a fragmented reflection of my tear stricken face. I’m alone again, with only my self for comfort. As it always is, and as it always will be.
