My alarm went off at seven in the morning. I awoke unwillingly and hungover. I did not want to get up, I wanted this hour to never end. Once I got up, showered and out the door it would mean that it was true. Finally, realizing the inevitable I got out of bed. My apartment was cluttered with bottles of beer and wine- which explains my hangover. I had spent the prior night getting smashed, hanging out with Scott as we watched a movie to pass the time. After he went to bed I went to drink by the railroad tracks behind my house, called up my sister and brother-in-law. What we exactly talked about, I don't know, I just know there was a fair amount of yelling and carrying on. My friend Kate called and I think I continued my yelling, I was angry I had called her in the afternoon to hang out and it was now 10. I was projecting my grief and I hope now that I didn't say anything too terrible. Finally, feeling too sick to finish my last beer- I tossed it at a nearby parked train and it shattered.
For all my feet dragging I was going to be early getting to Colin's house. There was not much to get ready- shirt, tie, slacks, the clothes on my back. I grabbed my stuff, ate a yogurt, dropped off a couple bills in the mailbox and I was out the door. I drove by Colin's house and decided to get gas first as my final ploy at avoiding the inevitable. At eight I pulled up to their house, walked up to their door, took a deep breath and knocked.
We were going to say farewell to our friend Nick.
The drive was long and hot. My AC in the van had pooped out and we sat sweating listening to music and a couple podcasts. We chatted a little, trading a few Nick stories, mostly keeping things superficial until we got to Arlington Heights were Nick's service was. The truth was we were both probably numb with pain, saving ourselves for this day that no one saw coming. We had steeled ourselves years prior for news of this sort but Nick had got through his baptism by fire and...
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