Light beams in. Then out. Then back again. I know what's happening. I've done it so many times. I'm waking up.
This time, I'm doing it on a dock hanging over a river. We had talked all night, my brother and I.
We had these knives Will had boosted and we carved our names into the wooden railing of the pier. It was November and really cool out. Way too cool to be sleeping on the pier.
But we weren't your average teenagers. We believed we were special, and sometimes I still believe we were.
We would carve our names on everything we could find so that people decades later would have to admit we existed. They would have to admit that there was a story there.
A terrific story of three teenagers that conquered the world, even if that meant something totally different than you might think. We were in search of a better life.
I did indeed get that better life. I was given so many chances and I took one of them and became a person I never thought I was capable of becoming.
In hindsight, I sometimes feel guilty for what God has given me. He gave me an exit sign that lit up the night sky and I followed it out of the abyss.
They didn't see it or it wasn't there for them. They both made a quiet exit while I was sleeping. I don't like that at all. That's a point of contention with me and God.
I'm wrong obviously, but try and tell my stomach that when I dream about them...which is almost every night right now.
It's autumn in Michigan and this is the beginning of the slow fading death of summer and the waves are crashing against the shore harder than they did a week ago.
They are going to keep crashing now until they freeze and become statues of what they were on their way to what they wanted to be.
I've noticed that my life has followed a pretty strict parallel to the waves. At some point, I have to stop freezing on my way to something better...spring.
I woke up on that dock with my brother. It was Thanksgiving. It was freezing and we wanted to go home. But we sat there looking at our names carved in the dock for a little longer.
We knew our story was special.