With money in my pocket.

With money in my pocket and a desire so strong it was overwhelming, I told myself to calm down. I sat at my small table, and split the money into four piles. I steadied my hands.

I took the first pile, put it into an envelope, and wrote a word on it. A single word. This envelope would help me get through the rough spots throughout the month, calm my nerves, give me bravery when I needed it, solace when I was already brave, and more. The one word was "Liquor."

I took the second pile, put it into a new envelope, and wrote a word on it. This envelope was the one of the only reasons I made it day to day. My reason for going on. The word was "Alex." My child, and while not with me every day, Alex was with me in my thoughts constantly. I caressed the envelope lovingly, as I hardly got to do with Alex.

I took the third pile, put it into a new envelope, and wrote on it. The writing was getting bad, my hands were getting shaky. And I wasn't fooling anyone, not even myself. The words on the envelope were "Food and Bills." The ritual wasn't complete without at least attempting to fill this envelope.

The fourth pile of money went into a new envelope, but I didn't write on it. No need to incriminate myself. I knew what this envelope was for, there was no way I was forgetting what it was for. I smiled, this envelope would make me feel better. This envelope was what really got me through it all. I noticed, like I had for months now, that the fourth envelope was slightly bigger than the others. And it was slightly bigger than the last time I did this.

I glanced around my small apartment, like anyone was going to be there to catch me doing what I was about to do. I took the food and bills envelope and emptied it out and placed the money into the fourth envelope. I would come up with food money later. And I kept the empty envelope on the table, for proof that I attempted to pay bills with it. Like the bill collectors would see the envelope, sigh, and say, "at least he tried to pay some bills."

I took some money from the liquor envelope, and redistributed it to the fourth envelope. I didn't need too much liquor, as long as I had what the fourth envelope was getting me. I had even considered quitting drinking completely a few times to fill up the fourth envelope, but had never quite gotten to that point.

Next came the long stare. The internal debate. The envelope marked Alex. Did it need that much money in it? Could it spare a little money for the fourth envelope, the insatiable envelope? I cried, per schedule. I argued, told myself I was scum for even thinking about taking money from Alex, told myself Alex would be fine without a few of those dollars. I congratulated myself finally for not taking any money out of it. Of course, I didn't add any money into it either, but I was taking baby steps.

I grabbed the fourth envelope and stuffed it into my coat pocket. I glanced at the clock, and saw that I had a little while before I could get anything with the fourth envelope. I wondered how my life had come to this.

I turned on the small television to try to kill some time. It was on MTV, and for once they were actually playing music, but it was that stupid song about "loping along through the moonlight". That song always gets caught in my head and drives me crazy so I quickly turned the television back off, and went back to staring at the clock.

This was the hardest time of each month, the time that I knew I could change things. I could put the money into the envelopes they should be in, not where I wanted the money to be. I could start working on making myself a better person, so that I could see Alex more often. So that I could be truly happy again someday. I could change my life, maybe not into what it was before, but better than it was now. I could really turn things around. Maybe she would even take me back if she saw the changes in me.

The fantasizing and internal debate got me through the slow ticking minutes, and I finally stood and walked to the door, checking once again that the fourth envelope was still there.

It was.

Trigger Words

"Loping along through the moonlight..." I sang again, trying to recapture the rest of the song's lyrics. I must have heard it somewhere today, muzak on the elevator, a department store, or a turned up radio from a passing car. Either that was all that I had heard, or my mind was messing with me. Again.

I climbed up onto the ledge of the scenic lookout, not caring about the scene at all. What had caught this song into an endless loop in my head? I felt like some hypnotist's victim, and now that I had heard the trigger words, I was supposed to be doing something. On top of not knowing the rest of the lyrics, though, I didn't know what it was that the hypnotist wanted me to do.

Loping along through the moonlight... I tried singing it again. I repeated the phrase in numerous tones of voices. I tried forgetting about it again, which hadn't worked any of the times I had tried it. I vowed I would give up soon, as it had appeared hopeless hours ago, despite google searches, frantic calls to friends and family, nothing would give up the next line of lyrics. I had started to doubt that it was even a song. Maybe it was simply a combination of words that my mind had put together, and was now torturing me with them.

Screw it. I stood on the ledge, toes hanging dangerously over. A strong wind right now and I would be plummeting to my painful death into a waterless riverbed, full of rocks. Which was about what I wanted. What idiot wrote that song anyway? I couldn't even remember that.

Loping along through the moonlight... I decided it was a good metaphor for my life right now. And if I only knew the next line, my problems might not seem so bad.

I decided, and then vowed, this was the absolute last time. If the words, or the meaning didn't pop into my head this time, I was going over the edge. There wasn't much for me right now, I was just loping along without much hope. No romantic moonlight, depressing rain maybe, but no moonlight.

I took a deep breath, I edged closer, ready to jump, and started the line again, hoping that the answer would come.

Loping along through the moonlight...

Sometimes the answers don't always come when we want them to, I thought on my way down, back to my car.

It was a stupid song anyway.