Journal of the Nova: The Silent Moment

He stands across the restaurant from me, and we glance at each other. No one approaches or says hi. We both look exactly the same, except for those small signs of stress we eventually forget. The red marks on my face, the dark circles under his eyes.

He isn't an ex, nor was he ever a love interest. We had the strange affiliation of family, you know the type. Once related by marriage but not anymore, or some relation to the other half of your half sibling. He's my older brother's cousin. When we were little, we were like siblings. There's old photographs of Tyler, Austin, and me. I don't any of those moments.

My family fell apart at a young age, and I never quite got it back. We were all successful, in the beginning of school. All distant, all very different. Tyler and Austin became best friends, and unfortunately got into the same things. Tyler dropped out his first semester of college, Austin had a baby and dropped out of high school. I managed to graduate.

At six years old my grandfather and brother got into a wreck at a four way stop. They were on a motorcycle, they had the right away, and then there were headlights. Grandpa JR lost his leg, Austin's leg was fucked for life. JR isn't my dad's real father; that seems to be a reoccurring theme in the family.

No one on the other side of my family gets it. My dad smokes pot. My grandfather smokes pot. And yeah, my dad was on cocaine when he was young and dumb. They think marijuana was what started it with my brother, but really I think it was the pain. He didn't lose his foot, but that might as well have been the case. Botched surgery after botched surgery, the pain didn't change. He told me as freshmen that he crushed pills in his pot to cure the pain. I believed it was just that.

I ate my bread in O'Charley's and Tyler and I made glances at each other. I gave small smiles, he didn't go that far. We each have a silent understanding in our glimpses; that it was our fault and no one's fault at once. I should have cared more about the pills and the things Austin confided with me. I should of cared more at all, should have cared more about my family than trying to be the best. Tyler should have been a better influence. Each glance held the guilt, and pain.

We didn't need to talk for that. We didn't need to relive our mistakes. So instead of approaching, I left. We had no reason to interact for another year anyways, when my brother comes back. He didn't die from his OD a year ago, but he almost did. It takes a year to fully detox from heroine. This is his fourth time.

His daughter, my niece, is almost three. Her mother is gone. And Tyler the dropout works in a restaurant. I went to the hospital for trying to jump off my dorm. We were all supposed to make the family proud, we all failed.

Stars go out with a nova, a bang. And that's exactly what we all are.

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