Denny and the garage.

It is amazing the impact a web of insignificant details can have.
I remember back to the times we were little.
You were a bundle of energy, and anger, and sensitivity, and pain, and humor, and fun.
You were a joy to be around.
You were a wildcard.
I knew then you hurt.
I have always understood that pain. The loneliness, the ache.
Unattended it can make a person half mad.
It can make you crazy enough to desire the end.
Addiction.
I understood you spent your life looking back at the debris and wondering how in the hell you got here.
Intentions don't mean anything to anyone but our ego.
I remember sharing long talks in junior high.
Sneaking smokes out back, as our uncle died of cancer downstairs.
You always picked me up for high school.
Riding in your car, you were both suicidal and homicidal.
Yet I would go with you. Time after time.
Both of us comfortable on the edge.
You speak the same language as me. A mixture of crazy, and sarcasm, and wit.
Contrary to what your final thoughts might have been.....
I know you were not trying to hurt anyone,
you hurt.
I know you weren't selfish, you couldn't handle self.
I can't pretend to understand, but I have been there.
And I know,
oh I know,
you have found peace.
But you need to give some of those you left behind time, because they hurt.
It is going to take those you loved time to heal.
And forgive you.
And forgive themselves.
In order to laugh again.
Those insignificant details seem rather significant now.