I cried to my mom on the phone, begging her and begging her to tell me where he was so I could contact him. He was my brother! She declined with a cold tone every time, until I finally stopped calling her. All of a sudden I was mourning the loss of my other brother.
I wanted to throw it all away, get rid of the past. Shun my days in Hanson from existence. Everything was lost now... my former life was completely shattered. Hanson was nothing. We cancelled all of the promotion, and the tour. We sold our records, received royalties, and sat in the back pages of magazines and tabloids... soon to disappear forever.
Isaac was allegedly arrested for assault and paid for some of the hotel damages - on top of what I gave them. I wasn't really sure about this, because I had gained all of my information on him through Hanson fan sites. It was really pathetic that I had to depend on my overzealous, over exaggerative fans for information in order to determine the whereabouts, and well being of my own brother. They said he was in New York... other's said he was in Canada, some said he was in Tulsa, home.
Whatever fan base I had had clearly diminished with my faltering mind - and it was obvious by the thoughts illustrated all over the Internet about me. I was now known for the stupid shit I said in front of the hotel that day - my whole entire career disappearing like smoke into the air because of one incident. The news stations refused to air videos, and the websites refused to post pictures. The speech was too coarse, the mess was too nauseating. The fans gutted it, and I saw pictures of myself through them... I was almost unrecognizable with the blood flooding my face, my shirt, and my hair. That was the last memory they would have of me. Screaming, bloody, vomiting, angry, insane.
Why didn't they give up, already? Why did these fan communities still exist, anyway? Why couldn't they let me go... let us go?
I spent my nights stoned. I pulled out my old bubbler and toked up in our living room. I told myself I wasn't going to get into drugs again... not anything beyond weed... not anything serious. Alex did nothing to stop me, she was as helpless without me as I was without her. Fighting would only tear us apart, and ruin the only foundation we had to stand upon.
She never joined me in my pursuit to get high. She and Zac were the brilliant couple that sent me to rehab years ago. Said I had a problem. Said I was a mess. Said I needed to get help, because I could not, and would not do it on my own. I shouted and spat and said "Fuck You" because "I can control this," when all along Zac was right. He watched me fall into the habit cocaine formed... he found me when I had done too much... when I had lost my mind on it. I was in psychiatric facilities for the night where they detoxed me, put me in intensive care, then immediately sent me to rehabilitation.
I didn't know it... but at that time, he made a secret exchange with God. I saw it clearly now. He told God 'My life for his' and it was so. Now I was begging to reverse the process, that it was me who died numb, incapacitated, and stupid on the floor of a hotel room.
He hated what I did so badly. But yet, he was the only one who would stay in the room when I was undergoing detox. Tubes down my throat and everything inside coming out in every direction. I wanted to scream, and wondered if this was just my nightmare, but when I came down I saw the reality of it, and the worry lines on Zac's forehead. I had to stay in intensive care for two days, and he was by my bedside crying. Before Mom, and before Dad... he was the first person I saw, and he was crying. His tears were landing on the skin of my hands, and that was the last time I ever touched the drug in his lifetime. He cut it short for me, a stupid boy who should have died, anyway.
Save me. Save me again. Let me see you. Let me hold you.
The tears felt like magic trails on my cheeks in my haze. I tried to catch them and save them for just a moment... to savor the magic I had for as long as possible, to somehow keep it close to my heart, to somehow make up for the emptiness that surrounded me.
I sang to Theo at night when he was about to go to sleep. Spending time with him was the only time I felt like I existed in the real world - the world where good things happened. I played him CDs to watch him dance to it, and I laughed. I longed for the simplicity that he enjoyed, I longed for a life where I didn't understand pain. When I started to cry... He'd say "Daddy don't cry. Daddy don't cry." It seemed sad to me that among the first phrases he could formulate, "Don't cry" was one of them. Aren't babies supposed to say things like "Hello," "Balloon," and "Ice cream?"
He fell asleep to "Golden Slumbers" and the song made me think of my mother tucking my younger siblings and I in our beds late at night to the very same tune - and then Mike who threw up into pie plates because he was so disgusted with himself, because he wanted to die, and this was the only way he knew how. How I wanted to sing Mike's tears away - like my mother did for us when we were young. Every cut, every bruise - saved by her love. When I sang the song, I could almost feel my mother's warmth in the room with me.
Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby
Golden slumbers fill your eyes
Smiles awake you when you rise
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby
Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby
Alex liked to hear the lullabies, sometimes she sang along. She held me so close at night, I was the only thing she had left to hold on to. Her mother, her only living relative, lived states away, and hadn't seen her since the birth of her grandson. Her mother came in and out of her life, but was never a constant - Alex thought I was that. She held me like I was the last thing keeping her living. On some days, I think maybe I was.
My family grew more and more distant from me with passing time, and never had the days gone by so slowly. Every day I had nothing, felt nothing, and did nothing. I ran silly errands around L.A. to occupy my time. Alex and I had sex three times a day (whenever Theo granted us his sleep), and even that was growing old. We were both so sick and tired of being lonely and isolated - that even each other wasn't enough.
We told each other everything... talked about how we saw things, and how the days never seemed to get any better - but didn't give us the liberty of getting worse so at least we'd have something to complain about. She told me anecdotes about Zac, and I did the same for her. On the anniversary of Annissa's death we lit candles and she held me while I cried and told her the gory detail of what had happened. I told her everything, from beginning to end. She had never heard any of it until that day. I told her about the walks in the park, the drugs, what her father did to her - what he did to me, and how I found her in the bathtub. She shook her head in disbelief as I talked about her bruises, and I showed her the video of us that I got in the mail... I showed her everything on that tape, I showed her everything until the suicide message. I cut it short, and told her what came next. She understood why.
She never interrupted that night, not once. She didn't even ask to stop the tape when Ani and I started to have sex. She didn't say anything to downsize or degrade it, she didn't solve it. She just listened. She listened to everything I never told the psyches, Mike, The Stripe, or Isaac. She listened to everything I never told my Dad, or my Mom... or even myself. Words and feelings that had never been let out until someone opened the door.
I caught my tears in my hands and took two fingers, smearing the wetness on her cheeks. "If they're really magic this'll all be okay, someday. You promise to never leave me?"
"I'll never leave you." She took the tears and made a cross on my forehead, like holy water. "You are blessed. You are safe."
Our baby's cries broke through our intimate moment, and we separated, satisfied. She ran to Theo's room, and I stood over the flickering candles. I couldn't see the stars through the smog and the city lights, but I wished on one anyway.
"I'll always love you, Ani. Wait for me." I said softly, and blowing out the candles. It was suddenly time for me to move on. "This is our ending."
next>>
index
email
Lyrics (C) The Beatles ("Golden Slumbers")
Boy, you're gonna carry that weight
Carry that weight
A long time
Boy, you're gonna carry that weight
Carry that weight
A long time
I never give you my pillow
I only send you my invitations
And in the middle of the celebrations
I break down
Boy, you're gonna carry that weight
Carry that weight
A long time
Boy, you're gonna carry that weight
Carry that weight
A long time
Oh yeah, All right!
Are you gonna be in my dreams tonight?
And in the end
The love you take
Is equal to the love
You make.