My eyes open slowly to the faint winter light filtering through the familiar venetian blinds of my second story master bedroom. Through the window I can see the faint outlines of clouds as they pass idly by with a silence matched by the cold morning air, a silence broken only by the familiar sound of my dogs playing in the backyard below. I lie here, comfortable. Content. The house is cold. Electricity is expensive. The faint smell of coffee brewing makes its way upstairs, followed by faint footsteps dampened by the nearly-stain-free carpet. Pulse quickens slightly. Should I be silly and pretend to be asleep?

I open my eyes slowly, afraid of what will come into focus. A heaviness descends upon me and I feel panicked, anxious. Welcome to your life. The life you choose. It is too late.

My mind frequently drifts and floats away, traveling to that place where pain no longer hurts and visions of the best times flow freely. I am in Newport Beach. It is a foggy morning, the end of the pier barely visible beyond the breaking waves. I am young. Our makeshift beach blanket barely keeps the sand off our legs. We lie on our stomachs, side by side, facing the endless mystery beyond. I scribble my hopes for the future onto a tiny piece of computer paper - my dreams despite the inevitable uncertainty quickly approaching. She responds by writing a message of her own. I gaze at her in amazement. Her flawless features so pristine, so innocent. This is love and I am sure of it. I am not allowed to read her message until I have departed. A seashell is placed in the envelope and sealed with her lips. We laugh. We kiss. This is happiness. This is love in the purest state I will ever experience.

I stumble through reality. Dog shit on the floor. Empty beer bottles. Sake stains on the table. In the trash is the letter, torn to shreds. Seashell missing. This is my fault. I should have protected it better. I should have guarded it with my life. What little my life is worth these days.

So I float away. Away from this hell I have created for myself. Away from the oppression and belittlement. Away from being put down and mocked. From always being wrong. I float to the past. When friendships were strong and plentiful and life wasn't harsh. When I was happy. When I was free. When we were strong.

It is too late.