May 25, 2017

Paul, it has been just over a year since you left. Much longer since words between the two of us were exchanged. If only you were still with us. Just know I would give the world to have it happen.

I have not grieved as hard for another as I have for you when I heard of your passing. When the news found me, I was home sitting on the bed with my computer on top of me. I did not want to believe it to be true. That's when reality finally set in. What I was doing prior didn't matter. Nothing did. Everything suddenly just stopped. The noise from the t.v. in the background filled the room but couldn't find its way to fill my ears. Truth caused my heart to quickly become very heavy to the point of drowning inside. Forcing the overflow down my face. Such a deep wound still lingers to this day as I find it very difficult to hold it together. This result occurs at the thought of or when I speak to others who did not have the pleasure of knowing you as well.

There were moments of despair where I would clench my fists and slam them upon table before me. "Why him? It's not fair!" I would go before stopping only to wipe the tears rolling down my face before continuing on. "He had so much more to give."

Each time we broke words, I felt it was always settling. You seemed to find ways to pull me from darkest thoughts. The last time we did in person, I will continue to hold to heart replaying it within my head as a movie. Voice truth to it, I expected some sort of resistance from you on that day in wake of hearing about my planned departure from Ford. Instead, you spoke to me as if I was a person of greater purpose. Your words, advice and belief in me helped ease the uncertainty as I broke free of the restraints inner demons had upon me back then. All while igniting a flame large enough to give life to my cause and light up the path I was bound to take.

Apologies, brother. Your suggestion that day to seek support from those within the writing community at U of L did not fall on deaf ears. It was very much appreciated as I trusted your guidance. Same cannot be said for all. Between my pride and concern, I neglected to follow through. Even so, the thought remains ingrained after all these years.

The overwhelming concern lies in if I were to seek their support. Would they press to find a way to mold me into how they think I should be? Perhaps they would act as butcher towards my works to point it not being recollection of my own anymore. Maybe even going about instructing me how I should feel as well. All a mirror image to precisely how I found myself in high school. The sole reason behind me having a great deal of distaste in writing originally. Instead, I have the freedom to write without walls now.

So I originally believed....

In my attempt to gain much more needed experience, I wrote more and more. It became the main outlet to release my thoughts and feelings. No more so than after the news of your passing. I wish you could lay eyes upon pieces since then. Unfortunately, I have found that it does come with greater cost. In dire need to become better, I pushed harder to not find myself stuck on a plateau. Which means I had to dig deeper and deeper within each creation. In the wake of sheer desperation to master my craft, I acted as a reckless fool and made the jump without a second thought. Letting everything fly past me at tremendous rate and not shielding anything from going through either.

I wish I still was able to gain your counsel. That way I can voice such concerns. My assumptions would not be able to begin to do justice to actual advice given. Even with past balming conversations to aid in drawing map to what responses could or would be if you still drew breath. In turn, I ask of you to look over me. It's much-needed these days. This path I've taken has been shown to be a most dangerous one.

I dared to allow such a thing to occur. Continuously giving myself over while being swamped with emotions. Like a base jumper, I'd stand on edge of cliff, preparing myself before jumping to the depths and unknown that is my core. In the act, I was toying with what lay below waiting each time. A serpent formed from past demons remained dormant at its depths gaining strength without notice. Far removed from what was before waiting to strike back.

Yet, I cannot find myself to stop. Being swamped with emotions has become my drug. Restless to the possibilities to what can be felt and formed as a direct result excites me. Not only the power that yields from each one but also knowing I was the one to create it. Me as a person in a different form each time. Absent thought of any possible negative effects. I felt free and open to what was to come of it all.

I recently fell prey to it all. To the point I almost found myself no longer of the living. The serpent below struck without warning. Hitting hard with its fangs in order to infect me before taking advantage of quickly wrapping itself around me. Paralyzing me from my head down for a good portion of time over my thoughts or actions. It's venom caused me to remain ghost faced speeding down the highway very early in morning with zero regard for my safety. Plans were forming like a puzzle in my head how to end it all. Before it could find itself completed, I don't know how or why but thought of her was able to slip through. Giving reason to fight back. Stopping it all from happening.

The following day, I had attempted to gain your audience in any way I could. I knew I was in trouble seeing how I didn't return to surface yet. The serpent grabbed ahold of me once more. Problem was my mind remained not all there still.
The battle raged on as I strived to regain control. I found myself still absent feelings as I had not felt anything. Lost, desperate to feel something and see myself free from grasp, I took my pocket knife to palm of my hand.

There was no turning back now....

I sat there with the blade against my palm believing no relief would be granted unless I completed this obstacle first. Since I was not myself, I saw my body as not mine either. The displacement of skin would act in same way as if it were my inner demons skin. With a stroke of the blade, I guided it across my palm. No cut. I tried yet again. Only to get the same results. "This can't be happening!" I thought to myself. With each failed incision, hope diminished more and more. "How can I overcome them? Would I become a slave to my demons for good?" I began to wonder. I began to press even harder now trying get deep as I could. Only to retain multiple long outlines placed in the skin and a mere nick through the generous effort I had put in. Which did not come close to solving any of the problems. I still could not feel anything. The situation at hand appeared to be getting gloomier.

In hindsight, perhaps it was the exact opposite seeing how a bold strategy can be still forged. Seizing on opportunities where others would not. What if my demons are not a negative as one would so quickly believe but a positive one? If the possibility of conquering them can somehow happen then I can harness them turning over power bestowed within them. Whether it be an opportunity to call upon them on my enemies. Remain two paces ahead with courses of action before those who would move against me. Infecting them to the point of paralysis just as I found myself. Then there's the inexplicable magic of inspiring another with words, and I am in awe of the weight they can carry. Igniting to set those around me free robbed of strength. This will be no easy task. It would be as if trying to capture a pack of wild dogs.

And yet, how does one capture something that cannot be seen but only felt? How does one capture something that lives deep within their own core? That only I know exists and chance to see as result in what the other side of the spectrum has in store. That way I can grow and it wouldn't remain unknown to me. Any sort of doubt will fall from concern.

If doubt creeps upon me, I try and think of how you opened my eyes when they were yet shrouded. You didn't teach me how to write. However, you believed and saw something in me when others did not. Allowing me to gain confidence to tap into a part I didn't even recognize myself.

Forgive me for not always staying on proper path. I hope you can also forgive me for the things I've said and have done in your absence. The temptation is most difficult to shake at times. I remain forced to keep fighting.

You would not become a distant memory. I hope one day to honor you and your vision in me to be correct. In a time I needed it the most. I shall give my life over to words and the strengthening a relationship with them. As I know they will be my greatest asset to someday reach and touch people the same way you did. Allowing a part of you to live on through me with each piece I create as they continue to carry the weight of the world embraced by your own advice.

I love you, brother. We shall see each other again in the after life.