February 19th, 2013


Second Chance Idol: Nothing Good Will Come Of This...

She shows up to school late. Again. After the last humiliating episode in which her fourth grade teacher tore up her mother's note and threw it in her face, she cannot face going in. She tries to catch her mother, but too late. She panics, cries; finally a woman walks by and helps her call her mother from the pay phone.

Nothing good will come of this.

An abrupt transfer to a new school, where she finds a best friend and teachers that inspire and support her.

She hangs over a toilet, having puked the last of the vodka from her system, annoyed by the non-stop lecturing from the recovering alcoholic who helped her to the bathroom after she started tossing her cookies during Rocky Horror. Later, she will call her parents and they will tell her how disappointed in her they are as they put her to bed.

Nothing good will come of this.

The memory of walking and talking and heartfelt connection with a friend who would later die much too young, much too tragically.

This BOY takes her on a mysterious drive, ending up at a forest preserve. They walk together and when she stops to sit and have a smoke, he asks her out. She has just been dumped by her boyfriend of two years and this boy is young and cocky and they have almost nothing in common besides the D&D game they met playing. She informs him that...

Nothing good will come of this.

Seventeen years (and counting) and two beautiful boys.

Her father kills himself in a fatal medication reaction the day of her long awaited baby shower. SURELY...

Nothing good will come of this.

She never has to doubt that his death was unintentional; he'd never have done it on that day of all days!

She sits in her room, struggling, and writes:

Midlife Crisis

I am lost and alone
in a sea of possibilities
Worst part of it is
no one actually knows

I don't know how to tell them
I don't know who I am anymore
What I want or don't want
If I even care.

There's my path, right over there
But my feet aren't on it anymore.
I'm floating somewhere above and behind,
Staring at the trees that line it.

I'm thinking of nothing
Of suicide, sometimes. Pointlessness.
Of obligations. Plans. Love.
But mostly I'm just staring.

Lost and alone in a sea...
At sea.

Nothing good will come of this.

The words allow her to finally say something to her spouse, who understands and supports her.

She is still stumbling around, trying to find her way all over again.

Surely nothing good will come of this.