The Journey Continues

My Biggest Fan

I am seated on a folding chair inside an empty house. The air conditioner hums a solemn tune outside the window. Only one light is on in the home. It hangs over me.

I’m one Death Cab for Cutie song away from the introduction to every indie movie from the early 2000’s.

I am also on the precipice of completing a massive step forward. At the age of 23 I got married to a wonderful woman with an open mind and a spirit of adventure. I did everything I could to ruin that relationship, like always, but this time was different. I pushed her away and she just ignored it. She passed through my outstretched arms and held me tight. We got married, we bought a house, and we grew up. I don’t think human beings truly reach adulthood until they find the right partner. I think the tragedy of humanity as a whole is the fact that the individual is part of a set. Whether instinctually or spiritually we require the catalyst of connection in order to reach apotheosis.

Now, approximately 12 years since that date our evolution continues. We’ve sold our desert house and are moving into the woods. At the age of 35 we were able to purchase a new construction home with cash. We will be 100% debt free within 12 months. My daughter will grow up in a house without the pressure of debt hanging over them. Her father will be an artist, her mother a successful business woman.

Many people have a bucket list. I am no different, except for one thing. My bucket list consists of one item: to raise my daughter in a happy home.

I grew up in a miasma of conflict and vitriol. My parents marriage had ended before I was born, but neither of them admitted it until sixteen years later. The children were subconsciously thrown into a competition to try and provide either parent a second of happiness. I was the accident child born in my parent’s 40’s. I was in the shadows of both my overachieving sister and my hell raising brother. I remember days that were just twelve hours of screaming, arguing, and threats of violence. That’s how I remember many of my birthdays. As I held Brandi’s hand through the birth of our child, I swore to the universe that I would do better, that I would be better.

I have dreamt the same series of scenes for the last few weeks. It’s not as scary as it sounds, as I only sleep a few hours a week. It is as follows:

I walk along down a road made up of the landmarks of my past. Not just physical buildings, but also the people and achievements in physical form. I see everyone I’ve ever met all mingling like a cocktail party. As I pass they all turn, showing me the rosaries in their hands. They all are praying in a language I do not understand. As I proceed the sky grows darker and the wind picks up. I see everyone I’ve wronged carried off in the storm as I enter into an area unseen.

At first, I thought these a bad omen, but then I remember that I am one of the damned. I am one whose sins will never be forgiven. The prayers those spectral lips were chanting were for a good journey. The verses were devoted to the continuance of the Great War. Zach versus himself.

Lucky for me I have backup on this leg. I have a loving wife and my monster of a daughter.

The battle for happiness just got easier.