Some Broken Things Never Heal

The rain fell like tears from Heaven as James staggered back from the Blind Pig for his third night in a row. He was blitzed out of his mind, on bourbon and other things he couldn't recollect, all in the futile attempt to get her out of his head. Her. The greatest, worst, most loving, caring, betraying Judas he'd ever had the sorrowful pleasure of knowing. Her name was Amber. And no matter how hard he tried to forget her, he couldn't. No matter what he put into his system, no matter how many pretty faces lined up to try and hook up with him, none of them could make him feel like she did. The other girls wanted him because he was a Marine, a hard-charger, a man-killer. Amber had loved him for WHO he was, not what. She had loved him truly, unconditionally, or so he'd thought. They had been engaged to be married, had planned the wedding for October when the leaves were turning. But Amber found somebody new, somebody better. James was happy for her, he truly was, but despite all that, he was miserable. Losing Amber was like losing a part of himself, a part that no amount of liquor, or pills, or pleasurable company from soiled doves could replace. A hole was in his soul, and how could his heart heal, he asked himself, if his heart was still with her? He tried to forget her, and it was impossible. She was his everything, his life, his other half. James was happy that she was happy, but he was losing his mind.1

The rain fell like tears from Heaven, and the thunder boom masked the angry, eerie sound of James' Ford starting. The lightning flash saw him peel out of the parking lot and onto I-81. He drove like a man possessed, whipping in and out of traffic at random, moving swiftly toward a rendezvous with he knew not what. The speedometer needle peaked at a hundred and twenty, then flapped wildly as the cable wrung itself loose. The tires squalled like agonized animals each time James swapped lanes, his hands white-knuckled on the wheel.2

James never knew what happened when the left front tire gave out. The Ford swerved sharply to the left, crossed the median, and collided head-on with a Peterbilt cab-over. James was killed instantly, even painlessly, the doctors said. Somehow, their words bore a ring of falsity, for how could a man in so much pain die painlessly?3

The rain fell like tears from Heaven when Amber got the news.