#wolf log

We buried my grandma on Mother's Day. 

The weather was warm. It was sunny out and it made me think about how much I fuckin' hate funerals. I've never been good at saying goodbye. Never been fine with seeing my mom cry, or watch my dad's shoulders shake 'cause he's trying to fight his tears. 

Don't know how to fix sadness. These past few days, I've had my fill of it. Makes me...helpless. I think about the last funeral I went to. Stacy's was different. She was young, it was unexpected. MeeMaw had a full life. There was love in both, but I don't feel cheated now. 

Just sad.

I can't help thinking about Stacy's funeral. Grandma Genie's headstone looks like hers. That pinkish-whitish marble. They're buried near each other, in the far back, near the large willow tree. The Evans' plot. 

My mom passed Stacy's headstone and she clutched me tight. With her on one side, and Red on the other...felt like I could do this. My girl's been amazing. I don't know what I'd do without her.

Folks were surprised, seeing her, finding out we're engaged and even more surprise when they see we're expecting a baby. Guess it's not surprising, but no one's said shit to my face or hers, so I'm good. I just hate this town, and the reputation I can't seem to change

We're leaving on Thursday.. I don't think I can be here anymore. Sadness and tension and my grandfather mumbling his bullshit under his breath though his wife ain't been in the ground for a full week.

He keeps staring at Red, and I can see the wheels turning in his head, working on a way to insult my fiancee and I know it won't take much in the state I'm in to lay him out without an ounce of regret. Ain't never hated anyone the way I do with him and I don't feel sorry 'cause he's made shit miserable for me, for years

But my dad doesn't need that, on top of everything else. I'm sad for him, for my mom, and everyone who loved Grandma Genie. Uncle Darren still can't look me in the eye and I wonder if he still blames me for the accident and Hunter's death.

I still hate funerals. The pointlessness of it all. Missing someone so much and knowing nothing can be done about it. 

I didn't go to Hunter's funeral. My grandfather fussed and said I wasn't wanted and everyone else went along, but MeeMaw hugged me. Didn't make it better, and I ended up getting so high that night under the bleachers that I passed out and woke up hours later.

I'll always remember how she never gave up on me. Never stopped loving me. She was subtle with her worry and I guess she wasn't disappointed, but she hurt for me. 

Keep thinking about how my daughter's gonna miss out on this amazing woman. If she could have even half her strength and kind heart, she'd be blessed. I'm glad I got to say goodbye, though I ain't good with them. 

...I don't know how to let people go.

I'm gonna be a dad. 

It's been weeks, and I still can't wrap my head around it.

Seeing the sonogram, it scared the hell out of me. Never realized how much one picture could ruin me. I could barely make out anything, even when the doc pointed out the baby's head. It was all a blur, black and white and fuzzy and I was undone. 

I've never been so terrified before. Not even since the accident. I worry about everything now, and it's driving me fuckin' crazy. I'm not ready for this. I know I'm not. Between worrying about a job, Red's health, these stupid fuckin' fights that keep popping up, I wonder how we're gonna possibly raise this kid on our own.

My head's crowded.

I was all set for our move. Chicago was gonna be our home. We'd find a good place, check out schools, work part-time, and focus on building for our future. Wedding plans. I was good with wedding plans. I was comfortable, ready to tackle things. Work on my art and focus on being a good husband to my girl. 

Now, there's a baby on the way and I'm scared. And I keep wondering if I'll ever get my shit together. It's been awhile since I felt like a kid, myself. I've felt so old for so long, gang shit, drug stuff, drinking and fighting... but reality checks like these hit me hard and make me realize I've only been playing at being a grownup.

She tells me not to overthink, but all I see is that shape on that sonogram, this little piece of me and her who's counting on me not to fuck up. 

I don't want my kid to resent me. I think about the person I am, the things I've done. Eighteen years old and a recovering alcoholic with a high school diploma and no official police record, but I ain't a choir boy. I've done things, a lot of shitty things, and maybe...maybe I don't know how I could ever be a good father to anyone. I used to think that, back when I first found out about Santana getting an abortion. 

Things are different now. I'm different. Who I was made me who I am now, but I still feel completely fuckin' unready for this. There's no book or tips or anything to take away that fear and worry.

I don't want my fiancee to feel like she's doing this alone. I don't wanna feel disconnected from her. She needs me. Our baby needs me. So I need to do better. Find a job, finish these books, keep the asshole tendencies to a minimum. Stop fussin' over her, but don't leave her alone. Just...try. Because you love her. And this baby. I've only seen them once, but that was enough.

I'm gonna try. 

Shit. I'm gonna be a dad. 

My parents. I haven't even told my parents. 

I am thankful for nearly a year of sobriety. The urge to drink doesn't give me such terrible fuckin' headaches. My hands don't shake from withdrawal, and that voice in my head's quiet now. Not 'cured'. Never will be. But I'm better. Trying to keep things steady and stable. The thought of relapse makes my fingers twitch, but the need to be better..for myself...for my fiancee, for our future...it's enough to keep me away from the bottle.

I am thankful for her. Another holiday spent with the love of my life. My light. My sunshine. My Princess. I am blessed. I've yet to comprehend the depth of my love for this woman, but I don't question it. Don't want to. I think about our future, and plans, and the life we'll lead and I'm excited.  We're shifting, moving into something deeper, towards that time where we'll be married, whenever that's gonna be, and it should scare me...but it doesn't. I've never been more sure about my future with Red. I'm so grateful for a love like this. Deep and powerful. Never thought I'd find a love like this. Never thought I'd ever be able to love like this. Feel so strongly about someone. Every day we're in Savannah, I fall more in love with her. Looking at her, I see houses and paint and Sunday morning breakfasts, kisses in bed, playing guitar and singalongs. Fights and make-up sex (all kinds of sex)...I see all these things, and I'm excited. I want everything with her. I wanna give her anything she desires. With her in my arms and by my side, the future don't feel as vague or intimidating. I know we'll be alright. 

I am thankful for my parents, and family. I ain't alone. I got my Mom and Dad. MeeMaw, who still asks about me. Aunt Dee. Sugar. Even Mark. My actions affect them too. This ain't just me, and I think I've taken that idea for granted. I'm glad to have my parents in my life, and I'm gonna work harder on repairing our relationship. I'm so fuckin' thankful for Mark, who's helped me on this sober road and kept me real. I love Sugar so much, the best friend I could ever want. I hope all those dreams of traveling come true. The Lone Wolf...it's not me. Not anymore. Much as I tried, much as I wanted it before...don't think it ever was. I just felt lonely. And angry. And a whole bunch of other shit. I couldn't see the blessing in having folks around me, who cared. But now...I want that. I have that. I need to remember. 

Mostly, I am thankful for a future. I'm glad we got to travel and see all these places, and there's still a lot we haven't done, but now we gotta think about the next steps. Getting my diploma soon. The chance to pursue college. Settle down somewhere and really think about my life, with my future wife. For the first time in a very long time...I feel that potential. And I thank God for it, for all these opportunities. I don't feel overwhelmed.

Last night irritated the shit outta me. I don't like getting into fights with my girl. Everything yesterday felt like a giant fucking headache. Saying the same shit over and over, to the point where I just didn't care anymore. 

Left. took a walk around town. Seattle is still confusing as fuck and I got lost for a good hour and a half but it was better than sitting there, being lectured at. 

I know what I have to do.  It's not easy, letting go of this shit and my pride and I'm just so sick of humbling myself for something that just...hurts. 

But it's tough, explaining that to someone who's decided not to listen. That 'not listening' thing works both ways. I dunno. I'm stubborn as shit, and her approach just pissed me off, and now on top of feeling frustrated with my parents, I'm mad as fuck about this stupid fight. 

Got back to the hostel at like...three in the morning, and she was sleeping. We're apparently not talking. I needed to get out, so I decided to hang out with a few of the people staying here. Hipsters and hippies, but they're decent, I guess. They were talking music in one of the sitting room, jamming with a guitar and smoking hookah. Typical, but still chill. 

It's cool, talking with younger people. Got my mind off things for a minute. But now I'm back to wondering how the fuck this situation's gonna improve. I'm just...not ready to call yet. 

Every fuckin' call just beats into my head, that I let them down, and I don't know how to not feel that way. So am I 'being a baby' because I stopped trying? 

Goddammit, this shit is annoying me. She made good points, but she ain't completely right. I hate when we get like this, when we're both stubborn and not listening, and nothing gets solved.

Now I'm back to being irritated all over again.

Fuck. 

I'll make the fuckin' call.  

On Friday. I will. Seems fitting, then.

Considering the day, maybe they'll finally answer.

I'm...alright. It's been 4 months and...12 days since my last drink. Haven't touched the stuff since the night of the accident. Doc says my shoulder's gonna be okay. Bursitis, I think it was. I wasn't really listening. After he mentioned painkillers, I kinda tuned it out. 

I didn't want the pills, 'cause that lucid feeling reminds me of being drunk, and it might sound stupid, but I just wanna avoid all of it. So I pop Excedrin when the pain gets to be too much, but it's not as bad lately. 

Don't wanna worry Red. I feel like she's always worried about me. Yeah, that's just her way, but I don't want to give her a reason to be concerned. The stuff with her parents moving away really hurt. I hate seeing her upset, or hearing her cry, even though I know it's good for her to get these things out. 

I think it just makes me miss my own parents. Been thinking about them a lot lately. Wondering if they think about me. Since I texted Dad a few months back, I haven't heard anything. I just...things are happening in my life, and I need them. I want to fix our relationship, but I have no idea how. Mom said I needed to stop being selfish. To grow up. But it still feels like part of me is missing 'cause I don't have them 

That guilt's still there, and I don't know how to make it go away. It sits heavy on me, pressing down like a weight, especially after hearing my girl cry. She doesn't have her parents. They don't want her. But that's alright, 'cause she has me, and I'll never stop loving her. I have my parents...I think. But I don't know how to approach this situation. This silence isn't the answer. I gotta talk to them. 

this fuckin' headache is intense. it's so bad, It almost feels like I'm imagining it. Like, this level of pain can't be real. Maybe I am imagining it. I don't know what's wrong with me. I woke up today, and my head was pounding. I keep feeling...I dunno...antsy. Like I need to just...ugh.

It's the withdrawal. I know it is. I've felt this shake before. The craving in the pit of my stomach that starts off small, but eventually turns into this gnawing, hollow feeling that takes forever to go away. 

Maybe it's just being in Vegas. Everything here is fuckin' alcohol. Liquor stores all over. Clubs full of bottles. Cocktails at the casinos. They offered us wine at dinner the other night, and my fingers twitched under the table, my throat dry as I shook my head. Alcohol, alcohol, everywhere. 

But Sam can't fuckin' drink. I don't know why this one feels worse. Usually I have these episodes. They last for a few hours, and I'm fine. But this...it's too easy.

I could go for a walk. Head to one of the casinos. Stroll down the strip. There's...way too much here. Everything is lights and liquor and nose and it's so goddamn tempting. Maybe that's why my head hurts.

I feel like I can't go anywhere without Red, but she's not my fuckin' babysitter. It's not her responsibility to monitor everything I do. I don't wanna yell at her. And I really don't want to fight. So I'm hoping I can just sleep this off...or something. 

Maybe I should call Mark. Soon as my hands stop shaking.

One day at a time, right?

I'm selfish as fuck. 

And it's okay. 

Learned that today. This meeting felt different than the others. I mean, it was the same old thing.

"Hi, I'm Sam and I'm an alcoholic".

it's getting easier to say. to admit. to believe. I ain't ready to shout it from the rooftops, but I can finally look in the mirror and say it softly to myself without turning away or tearing up.

I dunno what made me talk to this guy afterwards. I think it's 'cause he reminded me of Henry Rollins. One of those old gutter punk club dudes who thrived on music with shitty guitars, even shittier vocals, and thrash. He had tattoo sleeves and combat boots. This old guy, looking completely badass. Even while eating a strawberry cupcake. 

I was sitting in the trunk, trying to hold shit together, like I always do. Sometimes, I get really overwhelmed during the meetings. Listening to other people's stories. Remembering my own. I don't know why I have these breakdowns, but I guess they're good for me. I guess he saw me, and he just hopped in the passenger seat, lit a cigarette, and said "I used to do the same shit too. It helps, letting it out." 

We sat and talked for two hours. Right out front of this Presbyterian church. Told him about Red. Showed him her picture. He called her gorgeous. We've been together 5 months now.

February 18th made it five.

He asked if I loved her. I said "completely and unconditionally". He smiled at that. 

Told him about the shit with my parents. Not everything. Just Mama calling me selfish. Saying I shouldn't talk to them. He nodded a bit and lit another cigarette. "You're selfish as fuck. Right now, you gotta be."

Alcoholism is a disease. And with any sickness, you gotta look out for yourself. But that don't mean you forget all the other people in your life. There's gotta be a balance. I realized it's okay to be selfish, at least about this. Drinking's what got me here. Car accident. Titans and Pavs bullshit. I keep trying to escape my issues, filling my time with dumb shit, instead of looking at my sickness. Why I do these things. 

Being with Red helps. I mean, sometimes my hands shake at night. I'll get these bouts of withdrawal that cramp my stomach and give me a headache. Usually, I'll take a nap. More and more, I play guitar. I just...it's so easy now...when there's really nothing weighing me down, or holding me back. 

Guess that means the temptation's greater too. I'll think about drinking, how easy it could be to do it out here. Then my mind goes to Red. I never wanna see that look in her eyes again. Scared. Helpless. Disappointed. 'Cause of me. I can't do that to her, or to myself. 

But living in this bubble, like we are, ain't exactly helping my recovery either. It won't always be just the two of us, dwelling in this place while the world moves around us. Eventually we'll have to settle, or for me, talk to my parents, and what will I have to show for this time? 

I need to work on making myself better. Using this journey as a chance to really grow and fix things. Get my school shit together. Figure out some kind of direction. I need that little bit of structure, even out here. Other than that, I'm willing to let the road take me wherever. 

So I made a friend in Salt Lake. Gave me his number. Said to call him whenever I needed to shoot the shit, or for someone to "knock some fuckin' sense into that pretty boy head". 

His name is Mark. 

Think I just found my sponsor.

Meeting this morning. I dunno. I guess it was a better option than sitting in the house. 

It was okay. I had hot chocolate. Didn't drink a bit of it, but it gave my hands something to do. I wish I smoked. Most of the people there smoke. Or eat. Trade one vice for another. But never been one for cigarettes. Haven't had one in...two years, maybe? And I think I'm too vain to eat so much and not exercise. 

Am I selfish? 

Are they right?

I guess I am. Couldn't talk about this at the meeting. People wouldn't understand, y'know? I just mentioned my parents weren't too pleased with me.

I hurt them. Badly. They're angry, and they're hurt and I don't know if that's changing for awhile. Maybe I do need to grow up. And maybe it's not as black and white as Red says. But it still feels like I chose my girl over my parents. That I didn't think about them. That what I did was stupid and selfish and maybe I thought I was thinking about them, but really, I was only factoring in how I felt. 

Going to the meeting this morning did help. I'm trying. Trying to be better. But this...I wish I hadn't called yesterday. 'Cause today, it feels like I'm really alone. Like I finally lost this part of me that kept me grounded. Something I thought I could always count on. 

I have Red. My heart. I love her so much. Don't know what I'd do without her, honestly. 

I just wish it didn't feel like I don't have them anymore.