Ten years ago Zoe and Romans lives imploded.
When Zoes brother and Romans best friend Will died at a party their lives were ripped apart. After a drunken car accident and the man who saved him Roman joined the navy in order to run from from who he...
I can't begin to count the number of times that this was almost me. Almost my funeral. Will and I had been friends since we were in middle school and getting ourselves into trouble since at least then. We started partying in high school and we had both probably done more drugs than some 90s rockstars. I couldn't begin to think about how many times we had narrowly avoided death. It was only when I had started really taking an interest in Zoe that I had slowed down. I saw how it affected her to worry about us; to think we were going to die. Don't get me wrong I like to party. The drinking, the drugs and everything that comes with can be fun but the come down sucks and seeing her face the next morning was the worst. The look of disappointment every time she caught me hungover was heart breaking. I never wanted to see her disappointed in me.
Standing here now though. About 100 feet off to the side of Will's funeral, where hopefully people wouldn't see me. The reality of the fact that this probably could have been my funeral if I hadn't been with Zoe that night was really starting to sink in. I hadn't been there for him. He had texted me practically begging me to come hang out, but I had been too wrapped up in Zoe to even think about hanging out with Will. I knew he had been partying too hard lately and trying too many new things, but I was too lost in her to notice. And now my best friend, hell my brother was more like it was being put in the ground because I wasn't there for him. That really hit me straight in the chest. The migraine and nausea from the three-day bender I have been on combined with the newest wave of guilt had my stomach rolling uncontrollably. I practically ran back to my car; the beautiful Lamborghini my parents had given me when I graduated high school and just barely missed the side of it as the contents of my stomach raged forward onto the ground. I couldn't do this anymore. Couldn't keep looking at her and know that if I had been there, her brother might not be dead. I had pulled him back from the edge so many times from going too far, I could have done it again.
As I sank into the leather of the car and looked over the half empty bottle of whiskey sitting in the passenger seat was calling my name again. I took a long swig and turned over the engine on the car barely giving it time to warm up before I was peeling out of the graveyard at breakneck speed. The problem was that between the speed and the whiskey and my own thoughts I never saw the curve coming. I missed the probably ten different signs before I hit it warning me of the practically ninety degree turn in the roadway. The curve came up fast and the next thing I know I'm spinning through the air seeing nothing but blurring colors as the world turns on the other side of my windshield. I'm weightless, practically floating in the seat though the seatbelt has me plastered to the seat. I'm not even sure when I managed to put my belt on, I suppose I must have done that out of sheer muscle memory in my drunken state. Maybe I'm already dead; lord knows this is how everyone would expect me to go out. But just as I come to the conclusion that I must already be dead, everything goes black.
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A pounding on my chest jerks me awake. My head is throbbing and I can feel something hot on my face as I start to make out the sound around me. Despite the ringing in my ears I can hear someone screaming at me.
"Hey man, wake up! You in there?!? Wake up man!"
The sun was too bright as I squinted open my eyes and looked up to see a man with a very short buzz cut staring down at me. He's shaking me and yelling at me to wake up. Once he realizes I'm awake. He looks down at me. And then back at my car that is undoubtedly in pieces and off the side of the road, then back to me again. I'll never know how this guy figured it out so quickly, but the look on his face wasn't anger or disgust with the 20 year old kid who was clearly drunk out of his mind and should never have been behind the wheel but he looked like he understood how I got here. Granted I had just been through a car accident, but most people don't feel bad for the drunk drivers in accidents. As I came to there was one important question I had to ask; one I was deathly afraid of knowing the answer to.
"Did I hurt anyone? Please tell me I didn't hurt anyone. "
The guy looked at me for a long second like he was debating on telling me. Dread set in now. I wouldn't live with myself if i had hurt someone.
"You didn't hurt anyone. Just yourself a little bit but you'll be fine. "
Right then I started crying. To be honest, I couldn't remember the last time I had cried, maybe only a handful of times in all my 20 years of life. But I was crying. My life was a mess. I knew it. It's not something I am exactly shocked by especially with my choices. I can't go back to my life. I can't look Zoe in the eye and continue to be this person anymore. I didn't realize that I was saying most of this out loud until the guy sitting in front of me said.
"Well get change your life then. This clearly isn't going to help. You're drinking yourself into a stupor and putting everyone else in danger isn't going to help. If you want a better life, you got to build one."
"Most people just tell me to get over myself and be happy I'm not poor and that I don't have any space to complain."
"Money doesn't make for a good life kid. It certainly can make things easier but it can also screw people up. I'm pretty sure there's a line about it in a rap song or something"
Two weeks later, I was sitting in a Navy recruiting office, signing papers to leave. The guy who pulled me out of the car turned out to be Petty Officer Jason Allison of the United States Navy. By some twist of fate Jason had been driving up and saw me hit the curve to fast causing my car to flip and he then dragged me out of it before it caught fire. He was right, I needed a change. I needed to get away from this entire place and the people in it. I didn't want to grow up and be like almost everyone that I knew and their parents before them drinking and doing drugs and doing shady business deals just to make a ton of money. Then marry who we're told to from another rich family and have 2.5 kids and the penthouse suite. I need a life with a whole lot more purpose than making millions and snorting them away. My parents weren't too excited about it, to be honest. The official story would be that they sent me to a fancy school in Switzerland in order to straighten me out. The rumor mill would probably say they sent me to rehab but I didn't really care. I need some kind of purpose, any purpose really. Just any reason to live. I needed to become a better person before I could ever look Zoe in the eyes and tell her what she means to me. I couldn't be the guy anymore who puts her in danger. She was too close to all those drugs and dangerous people that night and had been why to many times before that. To many times I would have been to out of my head to help her if she needed me. She shouldn't have to lose anyone else the way she lost Will. I wouldn't do that to her. I'm going to figure out how to be a better person and then maybe one day if and when I came back I could pursue her. Don't get me wrong I'm not delusional enough to think she would just wait around for me to magically reappear especially since I ghosted her but it's the only hope I've got. I can't talk to her or be around her until I'm better for her. Only then will I ever be okay with being back in her life. She deserves only good things and right now I'm not good. I'm as wrecked as my car but for her I'm going to be better.
