Standing at the precipice

"I didn't mean to stay up so late.
I didn't want to either.
But there you were. Just talking away and I felt I couldn't just let you go."

Today isn't like any other day, and hasn't been for some time.
The detritus of this now gone household trips up my legs.
And I remember.

There's nothing wrong with remembering, as long as you use it to your advantage.
The knowledge of what was reminds me that it can't get any worse.

Well, actually it can. But I highly doubt that falling meteor is going to track me down at this point in time.

I stood on the turnpike, waiting for that next ride that would be my last...
Well, not really. I'm not exactly sure where the turnpike is around here.
And I haven't thumbed a ride since I was a teenager.
Just sounds alot better than I am sitting on a torn office chair in front of the computer.
The desk is old and battered, alot like most things in my life.
Sometimes old and battered shows there was one hell of an interesting life there. Sometimes it just means it should have been junked long ago.
In this case, it's the latter.
Just another scavenged item to use in my life.
It wasn't always that way.
There was one time everything I ever got was shiny and new. Yum, new furniture smell.
But that was another life.
One that fell off a precipice.
In a way, I've been at this road before.
The situation was different, but I remember that rock over there and the twisted metal sign that says 'nowhere'.
Sure sounds depressing, but depressing would be if that sign said "It's true, we really do all hate you."
It's just a bit on the sad side. Even a little bittersweet if you toss in some memories.

"Thanks dad for not loving me. Thanks for trying to foist the blame on me. How could you forget that I gave you my loan money to pay your bills. Which you didn't use for that purpose at all.
Thanks for borrowing and borrowing with no intention of ever paying back. Thanks for making me hope that you really had altered yourself. Changed your perceptions and actually loved your family.
Sure I know some of it is my fault, I didn't have to stay, I didn't have to forgo my life to maintain yours.
I did it for mom.
And now that you are gone, I am left with nothing. No money, no home and only a few boxes that will hold what little of my past I have left.
Thanks, for without your fuck-ups I would still be giving blood and not able to walk away."

So once again, I stand at that precipice and wonder, will it hurt this time when I take that step off?