Family

We weren't exactly having a great time. Fighting all the time mostly. She loved Nascar. That was fine. I didn't mind it, not that I was into it either. The only time we really got along was when we were having sex. The rest of the time was spent needlessly arguing about something stupid. She loved that I was a musician, but I loved her because she didn't just think of me as that person.

We left Colorado and went to Louisiana hoping for a better life Jobs were getting scarce and The band I was playing with had a death and soon broke up. We had no real job prospects in Colorado and I was tired of the winters. So I convinced her to move with me to Louisiana where it was warm and the hurricane had just past a few months ago, thinking there would be work. I was a painter and she assured me she could learn fast, so we left. To be honest I never really knew what she did for a living. She seemed to spend all her time at home listening to Green Grass and High Tides. Loved her records. But that and bud light seemed all she ever did. Maybe I should have asked?

We found an amazing little apartment in Covington and set to finding work there. Wasn't long before I found a contractor near that had lots of work. I set about teaching her the basics as I painted window after window. Also a musician, I took small jobs here and there, got a job with a band and we did ok for a while.

But the fights kept getting harder and harder to understand. We even had a huge fight over whether or not the stove was on. The oven to be specific. I always just turned off the temp dial to 0. If its at 0, it can't be on right? She vehemently said you have to turn the whole thing off, which I guess is perfectly normal, but we had to fight about it.

That's when I had had enough. So I took my acoustic guitar and what little money I had left, and wen't down by the lake where there was a jam going on. There was about 15 people there with guitars, fiddles and lots of stuff. I remember someone telling me that rum martini's with olive salty juice was really great, so I ordered several of them before the night was out.

I met this beautiful woman there, blond bobbed hair with this distant look in here eyes, and she fixated on me for some reason, so we ended up at a motel for the night. Difficult to explain the next day of course, but I was happy to have been with someone that didn't want to fight!

My girls and I's fights kept getting worse, and I kept going back to that fun spot where I could let my hair down and have fun, and she showed up again. This time the looks were a lot more serious, and we spent time down on the pier and kissed and just seemed to be perfect together.

Even though I only had a tent and my truck, I set about leaving my girlfriend. I cited the things that I couldn't take any longer, she said it would change, (Though I knew it would only last a few weeks.) I left. Right into my truck and tent. I had every intention of making this new relationship (haha) work even if I had to sleep on the ground.

Boy, talk about young and stupid. That was me, basing my whole life on someone I'd met twice. Believe it or not, it went well for a while! She invited me to her house for dinner, and that was amazing. She could cook like no one I'd met before. When we got to the bed, it was this huge, down thing that was ten inches thick and you could get lost in! I did. That was just the cover for her bed!

I was there maybe 5 days, and thought this is the rest of my life. And here's were it all went wrong:

Being 25 and stupid, a man way too obsessed with love and family, I thought this was the end all of everything and to show my love, I went had got a tattoo, beautiful one. Her naked, with me as a tiger crouching between her legs to defend. (My parents later clued me into how sexist that was and some of the other implications of the symbolism of course.)

Next thing you know, after showing this to her I was kicked right out. Some kids don't have an idea of space because we grew up with parents that never needed it.

I spent a few weeks heartbroken of course. I lost my job, drank too much and eventually had no money to eat. I went back to my tent and sulked for a while and got hungry. I eventually went down the the docks and begged the incoming shrimp boats to give whatever they didn't use. They routinely catch fish they can't sell.

Diane wouldn't even return my phone calls, not that there was any place to call back. Let's just say she never picked up. She was a professional, worked as a paralegal in a huge firm that ended up winning the suit against the tobacco industry. I loved her for her work on that, even though I smoked.

I sold all the remaining music equipment I had just to live in a tent. I had some great stuff too, but eventually it was all gone. I was destitute. Made my choice between fighting all the time and beauty. I lost.

I fished every time I had a chance, but seldom caught anything. It seemed even the fish didn't like me. It was depression time to the max. Its one thing to have a broken heart where nothing matters, quite another to be living in a tent with no food.

I had 15 bucks left.

I filled up the gas tank and headed back for Colorado, not sure how I would get there. My family had done this many times. There were pretty nomadic and never seemed to be out of that last dollar. But me? I was done for. No food, no money, no job. I felt like a horrible country song.

At this point I was running out of gas. I finally ran out of gas in the middle of a very long bridge between Louisiana and Texas. So, I got out and looked over the bridge, not really thinking about what to do, just lost in thought. Then I saw over the bridge, maybe 15 alligators. I used to swim with them in a lake off the Tchefuncte (chefunktee) river a long time ago. I started to wonder if I jumped off, would they be kind or would they eat me?

There was too many of them just sitting around for them to be kind. They did look hungry. In my despair, I really didn't care or think about what pain it would be to be torn apart. You don't really think ahead when you're feeling that way.

All you see is your death, the freedom from your pain. For those of you who've never truly been in love and lost it, its not just sadness. Its not just depression. It LITERALLY hurts in your body. I won't tell you lies, its a visceral reaction that has real pain. It can feel like you've actually been shot. And it goes even deeper than that. You can have headaches that are worse than migraines. Pain in your extremities and debilitating nausea.

So anyway, I was on this bridge and thinking about jumping over. Not a long distance, but it didn't matter, the gators would get me either way, when my phone rang.

That will shake you out of your determination quick. I answered and it was my mother asking me if I was ok. You have to understand that my mom and I have always had a connection that defies physics.

There was one time I was on a cliff ledge and couldn't find my way down. She showed up at the bottom to let me know I wasn't alone, and I never told her where I was going in the first place. Ten times over she has always shown up in one way or other if I got in trouble, this was no exception.

She rang me when I was on that bridge about to jump. She assured me she loved me, promised me money to drive home, and I cried. I cried so hard. I still cry when I think about it. I will always cry when I think about this situation.

Such relief and a major breakdown.

Since that day I've never let my mother get to far away nor too distant. She's 70 now, and its my turn to be there for her.

This story is completely true and I hope it inspires. I want to say there is nothing that family can't fix, however, I know some don't have family. I wish I could be there for you myself. I honestly do.