These feeling, the images, the sensations, I continue to replay in a loop, fueling and helping direct me down the treacherous blacktop. I long for a musical change, the chants are not meshing with my preferred soundtrack right now. I begin fumbling in my glove box for something different, something more uplifting. Momentarily, I take my eyes off the road, swerve but thankfully catch myself and help straighten my path. My heart is racing, and I begin to perspire. However often I have traveled down these darkened mental paths and coyly welcomed my gruesome demise – this was not part of my current plan. I choose life!

In the dark of the car interior, I carefully raise the CD case I find and immediately recognize it to be Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On?” Seems perfect and so apropos. A soundtrack, indeed. I fumble blindly with my hands and pry open the weathered case. Sadly, there’s no disc inside and I rummage my brain trying to recall where the fuck I may have left it? Was it on the floor, could I have foolishly left it out and it’s now scratched beyond playing? Distracted by my own stupidity I am possessed and determined to find the damn thing. Endless empty food bags, containers, assorted beverage cups, sticky nasties, a few quarters and nickels, and even petrified fingernails, but no damn tape.  Accepting my futility, I concentrate on the radio dial. Sadly, nothing but static and bible thumpers.

Wanting to accept its disappearance yet still determined it’s close by, I glance with the sole illumination of the dash to aid in my search and explore the passenger seat one more time. I am Helen Keller’s little known offspring, robbed at birth only of sight and common sense. The rain and ice are still unwavering in pummeling my roof, windows, and hood. Fuck you, Mother Nature – I just want some Marvin, I declare! Miraculously I feel a round disc and quickly lift it close to my face, squinting to determine if I have indeed found my prize.

Perhaps I’ve pushed the envelope far too many times as I suddenly lose control of the car and begin skidding sideways while I desperately try to correct my path. It’s hopeless and I’m immediately overcome by both dizziness and terror. What is happening, what have I done? Is this now it? Officially? Are these my last moments and thoughts? The car is spinning, I feel the tires haphazardly rumbling across what now feels is grass and earth. We begin to tumble and thud again and again, one lone headlight beaming out into the void yet it’s all too fast and furious to be anything discernible. Or is that the white light they so often talk about? Is this now my moment? Will a door open and welcome me?

I elect to give in and allow destiny to take its course. I accept my fate – a life I’ve so recklessly challenged throughout my existence. I imagine seeing my beloved spouse dressed in white, smiling, and holding a bottle with two glasses upside down, clasped within her fingers. A soft wind rustles from behind her – she is beaming with radiant joy. She is my Marilyn Monroe, and this is now my movie. I feel gratitude, a foreign emotion in Loserdom, yet sufficiently thoughtful in recognizing my ultimate discovery of love with my enchanting and now divine, sweet girl. I look for my father, my dear, sweet, loving pops, certain now that we can reconnect and share the fruits of my illustrious journey – my discovery of romance, reality and pain.