Friday, November 27, 2015

                   When I got out of prison on August 26th, 2011 I though of this song as the Greyhound left Huntsville and headed down I45 towards Houston. I was scared, I was nervous, I was free, I was just an ordinary man. And this Diesel belching machine was taking me home. But did I have a home, and what exactly is a home? Is it 4 walls? 
                   No I don't think so, Is it comfort and safety at night, yes it could be. But for me home is in here, my mind, my soul, my heart. I worried about what my 3 kids would see and feel 10 years after. No visits, but that was my choice really and they were young. Was I selfish? Maybe, we just thought it better for all concerned. I decision I do not regret. I looked off in the distance to trees and hills, to row after row of houses, or could they be homes? The bus was loud but with something I had not heard since August 28, 2001, true laughter and excitement, and for them I was smiling inside, my soul had come back from a place I never want to return to again.
                   Off in the distance the buildings of H-Town and I acting like a child on Christmas morning. My breath shortened and my heart beat with the rigor of my teenage years. The emotions flooded in me and I felt a lump in my throat, a tear welled up in my eyes. I look back on that day over 4 years ago and think, have I made it home yet? 
                   A lot has been going on lately with me and I will not bore you with details except to say I have not had a alcoholic drink in over a month and I never feel more intoxicated in my life. I have found love in many ways, through my writings, ever so humble and needing help they be, but I do talk and speak through my heart, mind and soul. Love with others too. I have been asked and told by many loved ones to let go of the past, what you did, we love you. I try, but can't. In saying that I now know why...maybe, I need to tell people openly.
                   I have made more mistakes than most men will ever know. Sure some have made worse, much worse, but that doesn't help me. See it's only me who awakes still, and wonders and worries. I owe a lot, but to only a few, and they know who they are. 

No comments:

Post a Comment