Rather bizarrely, life did in fact get a lot better from that day. Maybe there is some truth in the saying "If it doesn't kill you, it'll make you stronger" (or similar). Its funny to think that it was me trying to kill myself that was the act that made me stronger, more ready to face up to my responsibilities.
I had been to the brink and had come back. I was lucky and I knew it. Maybe it was only indigestion tablets that I had taken but hey, I was still here and ready to move on. I was still going to be a dad and as such had to reconnect with Sian. No point throwing it all away again. There was the small matter of the death threats but I was sure we could work around them.
I eventually got back in touch with Sian by letter. She eventually agreed to meet me and after a heated exchange (mostly her telling me what a twat I had been and how much I'd upset her and her family...) we finally got to talk about the baby and the future. There was to be no wedding - there couldn't be now. But we could try and be together, albeit in secret. We managed to do the things that expectant couples did like buy prams and all the other paraphernalia of birth. Sian wasn't going to get her council house just yet and was planning to stay in her parents house after the birth. I was lucky enough to finally land a job and was able to pay for everything she needed.
I re-discovered my friends, too. The constant piss taking about the impending birth became a strange comfort. Unfortunately, one friend wasn't going to be around to see me make it to father hood. Just two days before his birthday, Bruce G was snuffed out by a van driver whilst on his way to work on his bike. His neck was snapped instantly and a family lay devastated - shadows of one of my possible future, with me in the Bruce G role but mine would've been no accident.
The funeral followed and we all gathered at the local crematorium in our white shirts and black ties. Young men with futures saying goodbye to a young man without one. After the service we moved onto a pub on the coast - like Bruce G, long gone - and sat about under a pale blue sky, sharing memories and saluting our departed friend. I've been to funerals since, but those of the young are always the saddest.
Life goes on. And as one ended, another was to begin.....
Thursday, 8 February 2007
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