Don't it feel like sunshine after all...
Sunday was one of the top five days of my life.
I got a call from Dennis at 7:30 that night asking if I was ready to get into something. I told him well I have to be at work at 5:30 the next morning, but I'm sure it wouldn't take much to persuade me to turn in a vacation day.
Fast forward an hour and one phone call to my boss later, and I'm getting to see my best friend for the first time in over a year.
My worries that the war has changed Dennis quickly dissipated after some good ole retard and anti-god jokes.
There's a few conversations I remember with Dennis and one of the most important was when he showed up at my mom's wake. We just had a normal hilarious conversation.
That meant the world to me, just to have a normal conversation with someone that understands that they don't have to go out of their way to feel better about themselves after something horrible.
I hope I was that for him.
Because really, the war wasn't even 30% of our conversation.
What did happen very quickly was the killing of the $249 bottle of blue label scotch I had bought for the occaison. We also felt it very necessary to go out and buy a case of beer.
That decision turned out to be wise.
Sidenote JW Blue Label Scotch, is the best type of liquor I've ever ingested and I highly recommend it to anyone that enjoys scotch/whiskey.
About 3 hours into the night we decided to go out and set off all the illegal fireworks that I had in the house. After a bunch of mortars and rockets we got bored. Of course that cure was more whiskey and also to point the rockets toward the main road thats in front of my house.
Well we couldn't get the timing down right with the rockets so we started using roman candles. I had one going good as a big chevy truck drove by. Now let it be known that not at one point was the truck in danger. I had each ball exploding at 50-75 feet in front of it. Not to mention the fact that the balls blew before even reaching the road. Well evidently the guy was a faghat that couldn't take a joke. Next thing I know he's slamming his brakes. We see that he's completly stopped and brake lights are on. At this point he's maybe 75 feet past the house. Everything is still for a moment because we're all kind of freaked out, and then BAM, he shot a gun that he evidently was carrying. Then he just spun off. I don't know what he aimed at but we're all alive. We also got a good hearty laugh out of it. I mean fuck you if you can't take a joke.
Of course then we exchanged jokes about how Dennis survived a year in Iraq and after a night with me has already almost got shot.
We calmed it down after that and went back in the house to drink and talk the night away. After a bunch of emo/whiskey/beer the next thing we know it's 8 in the morning.
We decide to take a quick 4 hour nap and wake up to go get chinese food and just ride around in my truck.
The last time we hung out neither one of us had a) a vehicle b) money c) pride.
We both reflected on that, and I think we're both where we want to be.
And I don't think it's depressing this time around. Before what we wanted was drugs and escape.
I think we're both getting what we truly wanted, and not regretting it.
Prrrrride.
Yeah now I only have 9 more days off to take for the rest of the year and it's only February. It's one thing I'll never regret.
He'll be leaving on the 24th for Ranger school. Which will probably make it another year before I see him again.
Depressing, but I'm going to enjoy his time home and not worry about that jive.
He's the fuel to my fire when I'm wanting to let it all hang out, get ripped to the tits, truly go sideways. Yes my last birthday party was wild, with the breaking up with fiancee, ramming my dads truck, etc... but I know had Dennis been there for it, it would've been twice as bad. With him and myself still standing at the end just laughing about it all.
And that gives me the want and hope for the future.
That maybe that's how my life will be and end.
With someone at least there with me standing at the end, enjoying it all with me.