Back before it went to hell
The constant stream of images and reports from hospitals is hitting me with so many awful flashbacks.
Between that and the earache, I’m…discomforted.
Still, I thought I was ok enough to finally organize the massive amounts of videos and pictures I have of the boy. And Alison.
Do you remember when I said that I only have two videos of her?
That’s not completely accurate. My brother found a video of her and sent it to me, which brings me to three (good) videos total…before the cancer. Afterward, well, I’ve got a shitton.
They just sat in my computer all this time in a folder called, Alison (Sad, don’t open).
I never listen to me.
In the past three years, I’ve dreamt about Alison exactly one time. Since Monday, I’ve dreamt of her three more.
Just like our real lives, they started off so great. For some reason, I never remember she had cancer in them.
Her: Why are you looking at me like that?
Me: I dunno. It’s weird. It’s like I haven’t seen you in ages.
Her: (laughing) Werido.
But horror happens in each dream and the next thing you know, I’m watching her go. And then I remember.
Fuck. And then I remember. I don’t wanna remember.
Just last week, I joked that I would go to the back bathroom and scream because no one was around to hear me. Actually did that. Didn’t really help.
I’m out of my regular cheap sipping rum.
Time to start breaking out the fancy stuff, I suppose.
I spend a lotta time thinking about alla the people in Alison’s shoes right now. I remember the constant panic every time something happened. We went to the emergency room 11 times. 11 fucking times.
Can’t imagine what those people are going through now. Don’t wanna.
Around 11PM, I wrote someone that helped us. Don’t think I’ve really spoken to her in all this time.
Me: Sorry for the super late text. I just wanted to say, “thank you,” again for everything you did to try and help Alison. I’m using this time to edit videos and a lot of them are you helping her.
Her: Hey Logan, so happy to hear from you! Thank you for saying that. I think about you guys so often. And I miss your whole family.
This is one my shitty videos of Alison. I have more of these types but, as you can see, they barely count.
That first pic above is me almost exactly 19 years ago. It was taken March 29, 2001 by my brother sitting in the back seat of my old beat up BMW.
9/11 didn’t happen yet. I still had my life-savings. I still believed that god and happy endings existed. Man, I didn’t know shit about shit.
I loved that car. I loved my old red leather jacket. I loved that car stereo I installed myself. I loved tinkering with that car.
It’s been terribly isolating the last two weeks. I talk to friends but it’s different than having family in the room with you. So, I sit in the dark with my dark thoughts.
I think about alla the things and people that I love that I can can’t touch or hold any more.
Me: Hey. It’s me. Just wanted to make sure you’re ok.
Her: You called! I’m so happy you called. I missed you.
Me: I missed you too, mom. (sighing) I missed you too.
Her: Are you ok?
Me: (pause) Sure.
Location: Cortelyou Road, Brooklyn, waiting for strangers
Music: I wish I could turn it off sometimes. Oh, I can’t escape my mind (Spotify)
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