Letting go

“I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.”
Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

Ten years ago on Valentine’s day, my high school prom date fell asleep at the wheel and wrapped his Geo Prism around a tree. Miraculously he survived, but I will never forget spending that February 14th huddled in a hospital waiting to hear if they were going to pull the plug on poor Sam. It’s odd to mourn the living, but sometimes I still do, as much as I celebrate him in his new form.

Once, before the accident, I went over to his house and we watched Fight Club. People always ask “you know that scene in Fight Club when…” No. I don’t. I haven’t been able to watch it since. The only thing I remember about it was the solidarity I felt with Sam during the ending scene, and considering for the first time that there might be a guy on this earth I could be compatible with in some kind of intellectually stable way.

I’m finally watching Fight Club again now and thinking of Sam, letting go of the alternate reality in which he woke up in time to swerve.

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