I’m at peace with the idea that those who aren’t in my inner-circle might see me as a glass-half-empty sort of fellow. I spent a good deal of my life mostly unintentionally, or at least subconsciously, cultivating a persona that dwelled in pessimism, probably-nots, and to some extent the suffering of the world around me–it often seemed the angrier I was, the more I spit a venom laced with sarcasm and destructive barbs, the more often I was rewarded, adored, and revered as a person. There was a humor to it all that kept it from becoming something ugly until it did, in fact, became something horribly disfigured.

I am no longer that person–if I ever really was that person is debatable. How much of it was me, how much of it was an act, how much of it was my alcoholism–all somewhat irrelevant now, as I find myself to be thriving in my own brand of optimism. Much of the subject matter I write about here is dark, deliciously so I’d say, and while all of it is real things I’ve experienced or the absurd scenarios I believe could occur in any given day, I tend to go to bed each night secure in the knowledge that tomorrow is coming, and each new day is going to be as bad ass, if not more bad ass, than the last. Most of what I dream up will never happen, has never happened, and probably won’t happen just because I’ve said it aloud.

Like most people, when miserable things do happen, I am completely caught off guard because I wander around believing in some sort of false immortality for all of us. So when a friend of mine was t-boned in a serious car accident this past Thursday, it affected me in much the same way as many of her friends. I was in utter disbelief–even as I’m prone to thinking about the hundreds of motoring accidents that occur daily. I’ve not enough information to tell you anything other than she is in the ICU and as of last night not yet conscious. What I do know, is that amidst all the internal lunacy I put up here semi-regularly, it is rare that my paranoia sets me thinking about highly probable real dangers we all face everyday.

“Be safe.” Almost everyday, I tell my wife to “be safe” before she or I walk out of our apartment door. My mind always has something far more sinister forming–a fate for her or myself that rarely has anything to do with traditional accidents.

Perhaps the biggest gift of my last eight weeks of near shameless self-promoting has been connecting with old friends, new friends, and even complete strangers. I doubt I’d have been in touch with Nicki had she not mentioned that she intended on reading it. I’ve had continued to see her posts, which are always humoros or poignant, and usually some combination of both, but I’m not sure we would have had an actual dialog about where we both found ourselves in life. And this has been, without my realizing it completely, the best part of having put my book into the world.

Nicki is a fan of this blog, had once called it “her favorite time of the day,” and while I had no intention of making any posts this weekend, I felt compelled to write this one for her. I’m not delusional, and so I don’t suspect she’ll learn of this for quite some time. It will be low on the list of the many things she appreciates when she is back in the game–which I fully believe she will be. And when she does get around to climbing back on the Internet, I’ll be looking forward to seeing her zingers, digs, and unique observations scroll by again. My thoughts are with her, her loving family, and with the rest of all my friends out and about in the world. Tomorrow doesn’t come for everyone, enjoy each moment, and be safe.

We’ll be seeing you again Nicki, I’m resolute in that.