_{I've decided to publish this journal. Whatever form of life I have left is now here for all to experience.}

I Won't Come Back From This

I'll begin with now. I've already jotted today's notes down. I finally figured it all out around mid-morning today. Coming to terms with everything will take more than the few hours I've allowed for it all to sink in.

I often keep a journal. Some days are uneventful or I become lazy and I lose interest in keeping it up-to-date. Once I skip a day, there's always that chance I'll neglect the pen and paper for up to a week after. Sometimes I'll go an entire month without updating my personal status messages. When that happens, and I look back, it appears as if an entire portion of my life has gone missing. It's difficult to remember everything. Even the important things seem to have a way of vanishing into the haze of a clouded memory.

It usually takes a life altering event or an oddball day to encourage me to grab for the journal again and keep up with my times.

Four days ago. That's where I'll begin after this. Instead of Monday, I'll call it Day One. It's a fitting name for my first day, but it took me this long to realize I had traversed into a new chapter of my life, if you can call it that.

Day One

Why do I drink so much. Every single day for the past week at least, I've been waking up with this massive headache. I suppose being off of work for a week starting today was a good cause to celebrate last night.

I celebrated all weekend. I can remember the bottle hitting my lips, but not much more.

I could get used to days like these though. Slept in, woke up, Monique was already at work and the kids were at school. Such a peaceful form of quiet. I don't care about shaving and I'm not going to bother putting pants on until later. Today is me day. Coffee and The Price is Right while I roll a fatty, hell yeah. This will be the best week ever.

Day Two

The silent treatment. Everyone. They wouldn't speak to me at all yesterday. The kids stared into their screens and Monique acted like I didn't exist. This has happened before.

I probably blacked out the night before last and said something stupid again. If only they knew how much I hate myself after I fall apart like that.

They all looked so drained and upset. My friendliest voice, the best I could do, all for nothing. I didn't know if I was to apologize, but dammit, I think I've used up all of my sorry excuses. They hear the word, I screw up again. Story of my life. No point in talking if they're going to pretend I'm not there.

Day Three

Same thing. I had the entire day to myself yesterday. Spent most of it in the office just staring at the wall, waiting for a knock at the door.

I tried to speak again last night. I lost my cool, started yelling.

Monique! Monique! Monique!

I hate the way I sound when I hear it in my head. Three times I said her name. I'm sure the neighbors heard. She took her eyes off the book, looked up and forward, then went right back to reading. The kids were off in their own little worlds. They all probably thought I spent the day in the office sneaking swigs from my flask.

I must have told her at least a hundred times I don't hide liquor from you or anyone! That was all before she found my stash. I'm such an asshole.

Day Four

Everyone appeared to be emotionally drained last night, again. Numb, devastated, blank stares, no time for my shit. It was almost bedtime for everyone, nearing ten o'clock. I heard the commotion and they all scrambled out the door. I thought they left me.

All of the lights were still on. I wandered around the house aimlessly for most the night. Pacing. Looking out the windows. More pacing.

I woke up this morning to another empty bed. No headache. I've been sober all week. That was actually the first thing I wanted to tell her today. I was surprised to see so many people in the house when I got to the bottom of the stairs. I thought I was about to enter my intervention.

Everyone was hugging each other. Tears were flowing. Monique was rushing the kids, telling them to hurry up and get dressed because they can't be late for my funeral.

I'm dead.

Now

As I think back, if I look hard enough into what was, I can remember the headlights. I hope I didn't ruin another family.

This guy showed up a few minutes ago. He won't come inside.

"Let's go." Aside from the strange tune he seems to be humming, that's all he said. I was given a nod when I asked for some time to have one last look around. I'm doing that, now.

I guess I'll be on my way.

~End~

_{The first image was provided by Fiction Trail for use in a writing competition. Follow this link for further details.}All other images seen here were produced digitally, by me.Remember Headlights and The Exit are the names to go along with the images._{Higher quality versions available upon request and for a small fee.Printer friendly files are also available. Ask for details.} "This is the end."
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