Ghost

I am realizing that I am actually nervous. I am leaving for Los Angeles in just 2 days. It’s strange; it used to be home. Seems like a lifetime ago. And for the first time since I left, I am going to spend time with the people who were part of my everyday life. I left that life in 2000 and never looked back.

They knew me as a “we”. They never knew me outside of this definition. And when I lived in Los Angeles, I was a grad student; buried in books and working a full-time job. And on the surface, it all looked fine. I kept everyone at an arm’s length because just like the proverbial impressionist painting, my life looked fine from afar. But if you got really close you would see how fucked up it really was.

I guess the most difficult part of seeing these guys is that they did really know. They really saw all of it. And just like me, they were powerless. We all watched him slowly killing himself. Well, they watched. As for me; this was my life. I think I spent much of it with my eyes closed, hoping that when I opened them I would see a different picture. It was my sick secret. As long as I never spoke about it, it wasn’t real.

I remember the day I left. I just walked out the door, got in my car and drove. I knew then I would not be coming back. I was done with Los Angeles. I never told anyone I was leaving. I just left. I remember the ride up the Grapevine. I remember pulling over because I was crying so hard I could barely breath. And I remember going down into the central valley as the music was blaring on my stereo and thinking I had escaped.