Crimson & Clover

After The End

It's been eight incredible months since I wrote my story on that cold winter night and hey, I'm still here. Wow, have my fortunes turned around and all because of this book. Who could have guessed that all I needed to do was apologize? Not me, that's for sure, although, strangely enough the whole story makes sense to me now, thanks to my wife.

My wife is the reason for my success. I came home that snowy winter night severely sad and depressed. I had failed yet again. I couldn't even take my own life to make things right. I had finally given in to the fact that I would perennially struggle through life, never to truly smile again until death finally took me away.

I drove home but stayed in the car weeping for hours. There would be no escape tonight. The car finally ran out of gas as the sun rose. I hadn't seen a sunrise ever. I suppose I would have enjoyed it more had I not been contemplating suicide the night before.

It was time to go back in the house and face my wife. She had been trying to call me all evening. I'd never done this to her before, not coming home. I was expecting to never come so I hadn't thought of an excuse, so I told her the truth, sort of.

I went up to the bedroom. She was sitting on the side of the bed with a look that was part sad, part disappointed but mostly disbelief. I came clean, told her about my depression. I explained that I'd found a spot on the side of the road where I spent hours writing down my feelings. I apologized for not taking her calls. She actually understood. She was amazing.

No, I didn't say anything to my wife  about what I had planned. I couldn't. What if I ever decided to try again? I couldn't let her know. Instead I looked into her beautiful eyes, kissed her and went to sleep. At eleven in the morning I was woken up by the sound of my wife crying. She was holding my notebook that I had accidentally left out on my night table.

"I'm sorry, but I just had to look inside to see if I could find a clue as what was making you so miserable." Her sad eyes ate away at my heart.
I stared at her ashamed. Now she knew everything, all of my secrets.

"No, it's me that is sorry," I told her as my eyes welled up.

"No amount of money could ever replace you. We could move to a small apartment. I'll get a second job, anything to keep you in my life. Just promise me you'll never do what you wrote in this book."

With all due respect to Betty, my wife is the greatest human being I have ever met. It was only my insecurities that made me believe she wanted more than I had given her. I always felt she deserved better and that she could never have it with me around.  Now I know, for absolute certain, that I could never leave her. If she could read that notebook and still want me around then who was I to leave? I decided at that moment my goal in life would be to make everyday the happiest one ever for my family no matter what obstacles were placed in my way because for the first time I felt that my best would be enough. Materiality was Adam's thing, not mine anymore.

"Publish this book," my wife told me as she took my hand.

"What?" The thought seemed insane.

"I've never read anything before that made so much sense. We all have our struggles. Its how we deal with them that tells the world who we are. I never thought about past lives before but reading this story gives me hope that life isn't random, that there is a reason for everything that happens to us. Publish this story."

"You actually believe that I lived another life?" I asked, rather surprised by her support.

"I do," she replied as she stared sorrowfully into my eyes. "But even more importantly; you do. This is about making you happy. Deep within your soul there are obviously many lingering issues that are resolving. You need to publish this story."

She was right. When I was very young I used to cry at night terrified that I would never wake up in the morning. I didn't understand it then but I was afraid to die. That fear must have been due to how I died in my past life, with so many issues left unfinished. My fears ended with that last dream about that car driving along the highway of neon lights. Afterwards I felt invincible, no longer afraid of anything, except failure. It's as if my subconscious knew what my conscious mind could never grasp; life is a continuous cycle that doesn't end with death, it only starts a new chapter of the same story.