Happy Birthday to Me  

Sitting on the edge of the lake, I am reminded of a simpler time. A time when my biggest problems were wondering whether or not I should get up an hour earlier than usual to meet my friends for coffee and pancakes or blow them off and sleep in. No surprise that I always opted to sleep in. Nothing is more important than a good night’s sleep. My friend’s know this about me. It’s one of the many reasons why they love me, or so I was told, at least when I used to be allowed the comfort of friendship.

Just thinking about my friends brings a smile to my face. I hate that I don’t always remember what that feels like. I haven’t smiled in a long time because frankly, I haven’t had a whole lot to smile about.

It’s been a hard year. Lot’s of bad things have happened, but since you know what they are I won’t begin to bore you with the details. Let’s just say that life sucks big ole monkey butts and leave it at that. Big ole monkey butts, I’m already turning into my brother…just peachy!

I put my feet into the water. I thought I’d recoil from the cold but actually because of the high sun, it’s surprisingly warm so I safely dangle them both in and immediately the currents make waves as they are intruded.

The water feels nice on my feet. Closing my eyes I try to just focus on that feeling, the slow warmth gradually making its way up my legs like warm little hugs from Mother Nature. 

A hug, that’s what I really need. Dean would tell me I’m a sissy. In fact he would have made fun of everything I have just said, especially the line about warm hugs and Mother Nature. Ah well, guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore.

I hate being alone. I’ve never enjoyed it, even when I was a kid and pretended I wanted nothing to do with my family. I’d get so mad at my father, I’d walk out of the door with my duffle bag packed and hope more than anything that he’d call my name and stop me. He never did, not even once. It was my brother who always did.

I would sometimes even time myself. How many steps could I get from being a Winchester before my brother would call my name and bring me back. The answer was about 13, of course.

“Dean.”

I said his name out loud, hoping that maybe my verbalizing it would somehow make him materialize. He’d appear out of nowhere and I could pretend this entire nightmare didn’t happen. Wouldn’t that be nice?

This is in fact, the last place I saw my brother. He took me here with some beers and a box of KFC. It was my birthday and considering what was about to happen, the last thing I wanted to do was celebrate. He insisted though, with that carefree smile of his. That attitude that said, ‘no matter what, everything will be just fine.’

He sat across from me, sipping on his beer and watching the water. If I had known, I would have said so much more, but all I managed to say was, “What are you looking at?”

He smiled at me and said, “Sammy, I’m proud of you and you’re gonna be just fine.”

I rolled my eyes in frustration at him and was about to argue and explain how because of his stupid promise, I wouldn’t be fine at all. How I would have to live a life all alone because he was too selfish to do it himself. All of these cutting remarks were ready to come out of my mouth, but when I went to say them, he was no longer there. The only thing that remained of my big brother was his beer, spilling onto a rock like a small waterfall and running into the water.

Gone…Just like that.

Suddenly the warmth of the water was replaced by a harsher feeling. The water was growing rough and I no longer had the desire to be there.

“Happy birthday to me.” I whispered as I emptied my full bottle of beer into the lake.

I stood up and walked away slowly, pausing after the thirteenth step and hoping I’d hear his voice call out to stop me.

When that didn’t happen I nodded and got into the Impala, making sure I played AC/DC loud enough for him to hear it.