Nights Like These

Another rough draft

Its nights like these that make me feel poetic, er at least wishing I was. My sorry excuses for rhythm and free verse combinations pale in comparison to what my heart feels. You see I am an ordinary man. Not much of a looker, I don't stand out in a crowd, nor do I try to. So why do I write? Because inside this ordinary man is a unique brain that cannot be tamed, something beautifully chaotic is locked inside my head, and it screams to get out.

This is gonna be a long night I think as I walk up Drew's driveway, a case of beer in one hand, and pieces of what used to be my cell phone in the other. Walking into the place I set the beer down to the mild cheers of my close friends and try to avoid answering questions about my phone. I crack open a cold PBR, light up a cigarette and take a seat on the couch. Our conversations waft around like the smoke from the end of our cigarettes, floating through the air and into the night as we talk on and on.

I step outside to the men’s room and take in the relatively warm February night. Basking in it, I looked up to see the lights of the city reflecting off the clouds, the night air cooling my warm skin, I take it all in with a deep exhale. This night makes the pain almost worth it.

Everyday is becoming more and more of a struggle. I had a mild stroke while at work a few weeks ago, 22 years old and I got a freaking stroke. I don't want anybody's charity, and I am through with hospitals, which is the main reason why I haven't told anybody. All I want to do is hang out with my friends while I wait out what time I have left in my life. The doctors couldn't tell me how long I've got, but they said I probably won't make it through the year.

That was a shocker, since the stroke my mind shuts off for a few seconds every once and a while, that’s why I dropped my phone, I remember getting into my car trying to juggle the beer, my phone, and my keys, then next thing I know I'm in the car watching my phone clatter down my windshield and onto the parking lot as I back up. They told me that alcohol and tobacco wouldn't help things but I figure that if I'm going to die I might as well go out on my own terms.

"Hey man, you alright?" Drew asks.

Ah shit. It happened again; I play it off like I was just in deep thought and tell him not to worry about it.