he said life had never been any good, as far back as he could recall. no real reasons. just mainly everything. he never really understood this world, why things were the way they were, mostly the pain he saw. it didn't add up. so, as soon as he learned how, he numbed the pain for as long as possible with any and every bottle he could find. percaset. oxycotin. tequila. whiskey. whatever. whenever. mainly tequila. no one could really figure out why he was so far away. the most beautiful soul you'd ever meet. amazing family. everyone loved the boy. they always spoke of the unlimited potential. talent. passion. what no one knew, is how deep is pain was, all the way back to when he was a little bitty soul. the things that happened every day that everyone accepted as "normal" burdened him too much. he thought too much. he wanted the answers to questions that kept him up at night. like, why do people hurt each other, better yet, kill each other. or, why do daddies leave their babies. innocent struggles. things like that. some said he was just too deep for this world, like he belonged somewhere else.
so, he fell in love with the only thing he could control. liquor. he gave his life to the bottle every night. and slowly, it shifted. it became the one thing he could not control. by the time he realized the outcome and the fight, he had lost. everything. over, and over again.
by this time, drugs and liquor were his only friend, and biggest enemy. and addiction had captured another victim. the spark in his eye faded, and his passion tucked neatly under the bed, for a rainy day.
his name and face isn't truly important, neither his age. what is important is the part we never really find out - the answer to his madness - will he make it? will he pull some hidden strength out of the bottom of his soul to keep going? the strength and passion he had before. or, will he fit nicely into a percentage of millions of others, that never figured it out. addicts. lost. misunderstood. a beautiful life ruined.
let's hope. support. learn. listen. everyone has a story. a reason. a brokeness. a passion. a chance. let's love each other.
so, he fell in love with the only thing he could control. liquor. he gave his life to the bottle every night. and slowly, it shifted. it became the one thing he could not control. by the time he realized the outcome and the fight, he had lost. everything. over, and over again.
by this time, drugs and liquor were his only friend, and biggest enemy. and addiction had captured another victim. the spark in his eye faded, and his passion tucked neatly under the bed, for a rainy day.
his name and face isn't truly important, neither his age. what is important is the part we never really find out - the answer to his madness - will he make it? will he pull some hidden strength out of the bottom of his soul to keep going? the strength and passion he had before. or, will he fit nicely into a percentage of millions of others, that never figured it out. addicts. lost. misunderstood. a beautiful life ruined.
let's hope. support. learn. listen. everyone has a story. a reason. a brokeness. a passion. a chance. let's love each other.
1 comment:
This is beautiful, Sara. I do think this "man" will find hope but I don't think it will come from any ounce of his own efforts. The only effort involved will be when he finally surrenders entirely and gives his life over to Jesus, the only real promise of hope and a future. What kind of savior would bring a dying murderer that had never done anything right in his life, into the Kingdom? A genuine savior, 100 proof legit. Keep writing and seeking, girl.
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