Birthday Candles

A person celebrating their birthday contemplates life, and what he has done with his so far.

I did not feel twenty when I woke up today, but lone and behold calendars cannot tell lies. The morning started like the ones before it, sunlight rays invading through my curtains to stab my eyes, and my puppy Hazel up and ready to punch my face with good wishes for the new day. I did not know what I was going to wish for when I would extinguish the candles later that day, but at that moment I wished I had her blunt optimism. That dog was the only entity that brought me happiness these days. She was the most I had now that my brethren had recently abandoned me.

            When I went to take the phone off of the bed, I had noticed a green signal was calling as if it were the harbor light in The Great Gatsby. Sadly, it was only my mother sending her love, and Facebook informing me of information that I already knew. I threw on some clothing to hide the scars of my youth and headed for the kitchen. My father was waiting for me at the table happy with glee that today his prodigy was a year older. I would later break his heart with a change of my own, but that is a tale for another day.

            The day trudged on, making me feel as special as a little boy does when his drunken father forgets his special little day. Though I know it is absurd to think someone as cruel as mother earth would write my name in the sky, but a postcard would have nice as well. My father had me running a team of delinquents in hopes that I would take the reins of the business one day. He gave me everything he could, even things I had not earned yet, but I still felt out of place. I did not have the heart to tell him this, so I laid the grief upon myself for the time being. Today we were renovating a home in Hartford City. I had a guy tearing off the roof, another painting over the lovely works of some not so happy gang members, and the last one installing lights with me, because well, he was too dumb to do anything on his own. All the times I missed when my friends worked with me before they went off to boot camp. Memories as strong as these made a good day turn soggy.   

            When I arrived home my father was already gone to see the town with his girlfriend. This did not bother me the slightest because we had already went and celebrated a couple of nights ago. My mother, on the other hand, was waiting for the birthday boy. Usually my friend Pablo would propose we went out for an “adventure,” and run off to do something really stupid. Yet, Pablo was in South Carolina living his life. Derek would call me at some ridiculous hour in the morning to remind me of our growing age, and crack a wise joke. He was in Illinois attending boot camp to fulfill his long dream in the Navy. I was the only one in our group to stay home. How I can remember the conversations with my old friend about joining the Navy. I was stubborn back then, and sometimes wished I had left now. They were living their lives, and I was stuck here in the dry fields of Indiana without a message from either of them.

            When I arrived at my mothers, I was bombarded by hugs from my mother and grandparents. It was a perfect way to celebrate, despite the ridicule my grandfather would throw at my grandmother Julie. The lights were dimmed, and the candles were lit. Mom was more excited to sing happy birthday, than I was to hear it. I was surrounded by most of my loved ones, but all I could think of was my long lost friends. The song had ended, and it was time for me to perform my share of the load. I waited to think of what I wanted to wish for, but wishes were no match for troubled minds. So I wished for a better life, and played along with the ritual.

            I thanked everyone, and wished them farewell. Now what I should have done was went home to go to bed, but the midnight road helps clear my mind so I went for a drive. I loved to drive around town, and cruise the L. When the radio was soothing my soul it caused me to let my guard down, and think everything was going to be alright. Then a country song by Darius Rucker struck a chord I was not prepared for. Wagon Wheel was the title of the song. This was the song that our group of friends would make our song whenever we were together. Those late night trips to McDonald’s. That time we almost died driving to South Carolina. All of these suppressed memories flooding my mind because of this damn song. If you have ever seen a dam break, you can guess what happened next. Pure, raw emotion broke out, and I was paralyzed by grief.

            So I got low, really low. I wanted to take my black steel revolver and end it right there, but I just thought of my family who would have to bury me in a closed casket. So I drove to the bridge on the outside of town. I sat on the ledge staring into the abyss. My hands shaking, my conscious trying to reason with me. I did not want to be alone anymore. I did not want to feel anymore. I did not want to live anymore. I took a look at my phone, and saw I had 30% left of battery. So I decided to look through all the glimpses of life that had been so great, yet cut so deep now. Derek and the chubby kid I used to be looking tough in our football pads in little league. Pictures of Pablo, and I on our many of deluded adventures. Me covered in grime and drywall dust holding Derek’s daughter, my godchild. I looked up through the evergreen pines to look to the sky while I gave my neck a rest, and to give my mind some time to catch up. The canvas was beautiful on this night. It resembled a black chalkboard I was accustom to back in high school. It was peppered with chalky spots to let me know I was not alone. Now I know what I wanted to wish for. I wanted to be back reliving these captured moments. Life was moving too fast, and I cannot take it anymore. But it made me happy that a night like this would be mine to take with me. I stood upon the crumbling edge of the bridge waiting until the right time. Hopefully the right time was not laying in the past. My hand was still for the first time all day. This tickled me, because this meant that I would end with peace. I was just about to step off when I heard my phone scream out. I thought it was rather rude to be honest. Here I am trying to end my life, and this little piece of technology has the audacity to ruin the moment. Despite my frustration, I picked up the phone expecting it to be a confused fellow from India selling car insurance. I read the pure reflection of the screen, and what I saw surprised me so much that I cried with relief. It was an old friend calling to say hello.