! I’ve always thought that a good day is one without rain, while a bad day is one where I

lay in bed and think of things that might have been. And wouldn’t you know it, on a cold winter

day in Boston, I awoke to the sudden violent barrage of rain rattling my window. It was thursday,

my day off, so I had absolutely nothing to do. And so I decided to lay there in bed. But I’m not

the kind of person who can just lay in bed without letting my mind become restless, you know?

It just starts to wander. And of course, on a day like this my mind wandered to that never ending

void of “what if”. “What if”, it’s an absurd section of thought really, if you want to know what I

think. But once you’re in there it’s so goddam hard to get out. And I became very sad, and I

wanted to get up and everything so that I wasn’t so sad but I just couldn’t yet.

You know every time you get sucked into that abyss of “what if” it becomes a little

harder to climb out. Just a little harder, but those small increments add up, and it had been a very

rainy season in Boston. It’s depressing really. The fact that I couldn’t get up just a little earlier

that morning. What if I had gotten up earlier. Things would probably be different. Who knows

though. Every time that I had gotten sucked into “what if” that rainy season, it became harder to

get out, and it got a little more depressing each time, and then it took a little longer to get to sleep

each night, and a little harder to finish a meal, and a little harder to get my work done, and a little

easier to slip right back into “what if”. Once you go too far into that abyss, the light from the

entrance disappears completely, and there’s no way of knowing which way is up or down or out.

And that morning, staying in bed for that long, I really couldn’t see any light. But I suppose if

you want to know the truth, of course I could see light. It was day, and even though it was

raining the sun poked through the clouds like a shimmering little silver pearl.

I knew I couldn’t lie there for much longer without going completely postal or

something. I mean, I enjoyed the relaxation and all, but my mind was just too restless. I wasn’t

really relaxing at all. The possibilities of the day finally tugged on my hair enough to pull me out

of bed. If you ought to know one thing about me, it’s that I love the possibilities of the day. I

never know what I want out of a day until I’m already there. Well, not consciously at least. It

becomes a problem at times, but I enjoy it. I just get in my car and go. So that’s what I did today.

In a brief triumph of will, I leapt out of bed, and I mean leapt. I threw on some clothes, grabbed

my keys, and rushed out the door. Then I hopped into my car, an old 1969 Alpha Romeo. Boy

had that car seen some adventure. The funny thing about that car is that it had been my dream car

ever since I was a kid. And usually reality can never match, let alone exceed your imagination.

But boy that car did. So I hopped in and began to drive somewhere. The funny thing though, is

that at the time I really thought that it was just gonna be an ordinary day.

I live way out in Melrose, in case you were wondering at all. Pretty close to Spot Pond

and the reservoirs off of highway 28. And that’s where I found myself headed: to Spot Pond. If

you want to know the truth, I don’t really like Spot Pond. It gets so crowded anytime the sun

decides to poke its head out. But the sun was hiding behind the clouds that day, so it couldn’t

have been too bad. And wouldn’t you know it, I was right as ever. If you want to know

something about me, it’s that I’m right a grand majority of the time, even if I don’t know it. I’m

smart as hell really. Not in a classical sense though. I’m not some math wiz, or someone who

never forgets, but I understand things astonishingly well. And I’m really quite self aware. God

that was annoying to say. Anyways, I got to the pond and there wasn’t a soul in sight. I mean it! I

don’t even think I saw a single bird fly away as I arrived. And I didn’t encounter a single bug on

the path to the pond.

I usually enjoy the path to the pond more than the actual pond itself. It’s usually much

more quite, but not that day. That day, when I got to the pond, the thing that I could hear best was

the actual pulse of the blood rushing through the vein in my neck. It’s such an eery thing to have

a place be so quite that you can hear the blood rushing through your neck. But hey as long as no

one was around to ask me stupid questions. I hate it when people ask me stupid questions. I

always end up lying. They ask me stupid things like “how was your day?” when they don’t really

care at all, so I’ll just give a very brief answer that doesn’t even begin to describe my day. No

day of mine will be described by one word, or sentence, or even a whole conversation. So what’s

the point of telling them. And people ask stuff like “are you okay?” of course I’m gonna lie and

say “yeah!” with the enthusiasm of a goddam high school cheerleader. Of course I’ll lie. So

anyways, I made it to the lake, and there wasn’t a single living being in sight other than myself.

Spot Pond is really a beautiful place. It’s this giant lake surrounded by a forest of

evergreens. It had stopped raining before I got there, so the water was very calm. Just a light

breeze barely ruffled the top. I made my way around the outskirts of the lake until I came to this

very curious shore. It was the smoothest gradient of grayish sand you’ll ever see, and it led right

into the lake. I swear to god it’s like nature wanted to make the lake more wheelchair accessible

or something. I mean it was smooth as could be except for two boulders which lay right in the

center of the shore: one big, and one small.

And I don’t know why, I mean I’ve thought about it a lot and I really couldn’t tell you

why, but I just grabbed the smaller boulder and waded into the lake. And I walked so smoothly.

And it was cold as hell out, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t even really feel it if you want to know the

truth. And so I waded out into the water with the boulder in my arms until I was chest deep. And

then I laid down in the water. And I tried to die. I mean I tried my very hardest to die right there

in the lake. But the boulder was too small, and it couldn’t hold me under. So my body’s instincts

took over and I kicked up to the top. And so I walked back to the shore. And I tried to pick up the

larger boulder to go back and drown myself, but I couldn’t lift it. And it was the most depressing

and absurd thing that had ever happened to me. The first boulder was too small; I couldn’t drown

myself with something so insignificant. But the second boulder was so large that I couldn’t even

lift it.

And so I just sat there for a while soaking wet, and I just thought about how absurd the

whole ordeal had been. I mean completely devoid of purpose. I guess the whole day had been

absurd in that it lacked purpose. I mean why should I suffer through a natural life if there’s no

goddam purpose. So I guess I was trying to solve the absurdity. But the act was absurd itself, so

really it didn’t solve a goddam thing. But I suppose the absurdity of the situation saved my life in

a way. And so absurdity solved itself. And I say absurd too much. So I came to that realization on

the shore, and I began to cry. Which scared the hell out of me, especially since I really felt okay.

And then I stopped crying, and I got up, and I went home.