That’s why I was “tired.”
My brain has been screaming at me, and I didn’t have the knob to turn it down.
You were right. The world is for the strong.
And I don’t have any fight left.
I’m taking the truck to the old bridge.
I’m sorry.
You won’t have to pay my bills anymore.
Love,
Leo
My throat closed.
The room tilted.
A sound came out of me that didn’t belong to a grown man.
I dialed 911 with hands that wouldn’t work right.
I ran to my car.
I drove to the bridge so fast the world blurred into gray streaks.
I saw the flashing lights before I saw the river.
I saw the tow truck.
I saw my pickup—the one I’d bragged about fixing—being hauled up from the water, dripping mud and weeds.
I collapsed on the asphalt.
An officer about my age caught me before my knees hit the ground.
He didn’t say, “It’s going to be okay.”
He just held me while I shattered.
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