In an instant (True story)

Pinned to my wall, is a broken wrist watch. It stares at me everynight, as if it can peer straight into my being. Everytime I stare back, all I see is a moment… 5:22PM, October 20, 2000.

At that very instant, I hit the pavement at 65 MPH when I got hit on the freeway on my motorcycle. Everything changed.

I think about how in a short time, I was reduced to living on a friends couch, broken, unable to walk, or stand up on my own, I had to have my friend pick me up and carry me to the bathroom, kitchen, etc. Then the one person in my life I trusted to be there for me left because as she put it “I can’t see a future with a man that lives on a couch.”
I remember I began to drink very heavily. My life began to spin out of control. One day started to blur into another. There was no hope left in my heart. Only the black emptiness where anger, and resentfullness rule. And that sadness, anger and desperation grew, like a cancer eating my soul.
Near the end, I didn’t want to be a burden on my friends anymore. I had regained the limited ability to walk.. and one day, I decided I couldn’t take another night of crying anymore.
I had it all planned out. My friend would go to sleep, I would limp outside. somehow throw my damaged leg over my heavily damaged bike… I would walk the bike while I sat on it to the end of the driveway and start it. With any luck My friend would not hear this. And I would ride away.
from there I would ride as fast and furiously as I could, and get myself in a situation where I would lose control at high speeds, and hope that if there is a god, would not let me live through it.
I had picked my birthday to do this. That night, my friend indeed went to sleep, I dug out my gloves, damaged helmet, and my boots… I couldn’t bend my knee far enough to put them on, so I just wore my dress shoes. I slammed a few shots of vodka, got a nice buzz going and headed out the door.
As I opened the front door for my ride to oblivion, I heard the phone ring. I almost didn’t answer it. But I did anyways.. It was the goth girl that asked for my number a week prior…
i think she sensed that something was very wronge although I did not tell her what I was doing. and she offered to come pick me up.

I agreed.