I have never expected anything special to come my way. Simply getting from one event to the next with minimal damage has always been enough to make feel lucky. No one died the day I graduated high school. My kid has all four limbs. For the most part no one has ever really wanted to kill me.

I like to feel sad for no particular reason. If I am left alone long enough I might even invent fictional losses to grieve. It just seems easier than being happy and having no one to tell.

I'm criticized often for not taking immediate action when life events unfold. I'm hard to read they say. I have an incredible appreciation for the word haste. I understand how impossible it is to remove memories from others minds, particularly ones that you have placed. I maintain that there is plenty of time to think about this stuff.

For many years I believed myself to be huge, a big smart, charismatic monster that most people were forced to like, look at my shit, take a ride on my bike. I had been given the gift of an unending bag stuffed with 'I want to be a part of that tricks.'

And then one day I realized that you are only who think you are, you are no more and you are nothing less. It was a good day by the way. There have been some bad ones were I was told what I was. But again without haste I eventually realized that motions I had set forth resulted in my scorn. So I try to smile and consider my face after shaving, at least when I remember. The idea being I might not be so reckless when people can see my eyes because I know what they are seeing.

So having a mind that thinks of such things I have unwittingly skipped across the horizons of my life, watching as it were, knowing deep inside that I was pulling some of the strings. They all told me it was so but I have yet to see my hands in motion, at least real time, or sober enough to interpret my Jeckel fiend.

Sometimes I feel like I can remember making things happen but it seems like a dream. I want to think that the action must have been driven by the desire to see as many people as possible happier than they were just moments before but I have grown bold enough to acknowledge that I can and will lie to myself. I swallow that pill and know what it means.

Standing outside room 506 of the Ohio County Courthouse at 4:00 PM on a Wednesday waiting to get married seemed such an impossible thing it became so possible and so right that I laughed and cried all at once while peeing in the urinal just outside the door. It all comes down to this I wondered, much like waiting in line to protest a ticket or sign up for an elective class.

But I always knew that it would be that wonderful. Just the thing you least expected but not entirely surprised when the story is told. They tell me I am thirty but I know that I am one million years old.

Will you be able to remember how clean the witness stand was at your wedding? How kind was the Sheriff that ushered you in? Do you have a transcript of everything that was said? How important to you were the words that were read?

The absence of God seems to work well for me. I would love him if I knew him but earthly creatures seem to come around more often, particularly the one that I looked at while saying I will. The tears in her eyes said more to me than any scripture can hold or possibly reveal. The judge's words, sincere enough though read from xerox paper, were the most serious statements I have ever heard.

It's like a secret you know, cause we're having another, wedding that is, big ceremony, full-scale decorations and all, complete with a new fucking kid. But for now it is all that I can do to keep from building a fort out of cushions from couch and asking my wife to come join me inside. She wouldn't of course, think it was funny or come inside. I can appreciate that, but truth be told it would just be me trying to prove that I believe in everything and when it comes to her there is nothing about me that I could ever hide.