Inspired by the turn Martin’s life was supposed to take, had he been given an opportunity to execute his plans, sister left for Arizona with her husband. This, she says, is her bid for sobriety. One that she feels is owed to a man who was a loyal friend to her. It is a show of gratitude and a tribute. Rehabilitation facilities are not places she is very fond of, due to the limitations imposed on patients, and the distance they would place between her and those she knows.
I have no faith that she will succeed through a method that can only be described as inexcusably asinine. This isn’t a misguided effort. It is dangerously stupid. She is placing the success of her recovery on a man who abused her, and the idea that a change in scenery will be enough to remove all need for a high.
Once again, I complain out of habit. I am not negatively affected by her chain of errors. Quite the opposite. This silence has a distinct and pleasurable taste to it. I am a glutton for this. There is space to float in, colors to change, wheels to break. Here, it is impossible to deny that what has always been wrong, has been my need to hold what is loved, knowing that it may never be within my reach.