[Originally posted on the No-Lyfe Journal]

Audrey: When was the first time the thought popped in your head that we might not make it?
David: That’s not the game.
Audrey: It's our first date, there aren’t any rules
David: I’m not sure
Audrey: Think carefully
David: What about the game?
Audrey: It’s over, I won. Look maybe it wasn’t a specific moment, maybe it was-
David: I had a nightmare. One night. I didn’t wake you up to tell me that it was okay. I think that was the first time. Does that count?

-David and Audrey Dunn, Unbreakable

The Second is at the campaign headquarters of the Phil Sudan for Congress campaign. I'm ostensibly covering it for a conservative publication that I worked for, but the publication's preference for Sudan's primary opponent precluded anything positive bring written about Sudan. I figured as much, but I went anyway because there was free food and it was a good chance to meet people. Sudan hadn't won me over, but I couldn't help but admire the man's history and social standing. Successful corporate lawyer turned congressional candidate. Sudan won the primary that night, so it was a rather happy occasion. Having rooted for his opponent, I was less than thrilled, but it was hard not to get swept in the excitement of a come-from-behind victory.

Third: Okay, I give, why are we here?
First: Do you feel the least bit false here? Celebrating with a candidate that you weren't in favor of?
Third: It's not like it mattered, really. Whoever won the nomination was going to lose the general election. Besides, Reiser got his chance last year and lost. Sudan also ran again up in Dallas and lost. In the end, it really doesn't matter so much.
First: That's beside the point. The point wasn't that you weren't being true to your convictions.
Third: What convictions? It literally did not matter one iota who won. I was invited to this party and I wasn't invited to Reiser's. They were interchangable, really.
First: *sigh*
Third: Why does any of this matter?
First: It's indicative of a trend. You just went with the flow when you were him [pointing to The Second]. You did things because you thought you should. Not because you wanted to.
Third: Sometimes you have to. Especially in cases like this where it doesn't really matter and you can just celebrate and be happy that you were, if tepidly, backing the right horse. There was a lot to admire about Sudan, if felt at the time.
First: Like he hadn't paid child support in two years?
Third: That hadn't surfaced yet. It would have been a different matter if it had. At the time, he was just a corporate lawyer - which I was aiming to be - with a tight family and ostensibly happy life. Wealthy, too.
First: Since when did you care about wealth?
Third: I did at the time. I was going to be a lawyer.
First: Why were you going to be a lawyer?
Third: A lot of reasons. I find law and policy interesting, for starters. It was also a good way to be successful and make money.
First: And why did you want to make money?
Third: There's nothing wrong with making money. It's the American way and all that.
First: But it's not what you wanted to do.
Third: Sure it was.
First: Then why didn't you become one?
Third: A lot of reasons.
First: Such as?

The Second hugs the daughter of Sudan's campaign manager goodbye. It's apparent that he has to go to bed. He has to head out to work.

Third: Looks like we're about to leave.
First: Indeed. We're not done yet, though.

When we get outside, it's not pitch black like it should be at midnight or so when I usually left for work. In fact, judging by the sun, it's still day time. Furthermore, as we drive down Westheimer, we're going the wrong direction.

Third: What's going on? Why is it day time and why are we headed down the wrong way of Westheimer?
First: We're on our way to the publication's office to meet the other editors. We're going to be there for a couple hours, then we're going down to the bus depot to pick up Brian. We're going to drop him off and get some sleep. We haven't slept in almost 40 hours.
Third: I guess some things never changed.

The semester this all came down was perhaps the most hectic of my college career. I had a full time job and a full time classload. Not only that, but all of my classes were on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so twice a week for a 36 hour span or so, I'd only be able to get brief naps (if that) for a 36 hour span as I went to work, class, and then work again. This was actually how I learned to stay awake for such long periods of time, a skill I unfortunately use regularly these days.

First: This is Friday. Do you remember what Friday this is?
Third: [thinks about it. nods]
First: So you know what's about to happen?
Third: [nod]
First: But we have some time to kill, so let's talk.
Third: About?
First: Let's talk about why you wanted to make a lot of money.
Third: Dammit.
First: So why did you want to be make a lot of money?
Third: American way and apple pie. Remember?
First: No, why did you want to be a lawyer and make a lot of money? You know the answers I'm looking for, so spill it.
Third: I wanted to be a lawyer to prove that I could. For all of the problems I've had in school my entire life, they seemed to be behind me. If I could have made it through law school, I'd have proven once and for all that I was undoubtedly a success. And the money was good.
First: And why was the money important to you? Remember, I know the answer, I just want you to say it so you will realize how silly it sounds.
Third: That's not going to work because it's not silly. I wanted to make a lot of money so that Anna could have her Whitlock compound. Her ambitions required a lot of money. She was never going to make that money, so I had to.
First: Did she ever ask you to go to law school?
Third: No. I brought it up.
First: Did she ever ask you to make a lot of money so that she could have the house and yard of her dreams? Did she ever ask you to get that for her?
Third: No, but she wanted it all the same. She was making plans for it and she was never going to make the money for it. She'd dropped out of college and was making $8 at PETsMART as a dog trainer. Something was going to have to give, so I started preparing for law school and taking the LSAT.
First: But she never asked you to do any of this. She only asked that you loved her and that you stay with her. You didn't.
Third: I did love her. She was the only reason I was so worried about money! I could have cared less.
First: But she never asked you to do any of this! Don't you dare blame her for this. You never asked her, never consulted with her, you just did it because you felt that was what was expected of you.
Third: I can't always do everything that I want to do.
First: I suppose not, but in a couple of minutes you're about to run a red light and another car is going to slam in to you. Why are you going to run a red light? Because you've been up for fourty hours, because you're on your way from job #1 to job #3. You're preoccupied with a thesis you have to write for an honors degree you don't need so that you can get into a law school to get a degree and make money for your girlfriend that never even asked that of you. Are you starting to see how out of control this is?
Third: Of course I see. Look, I'm not looking to return to those days. I am thinking about going to Phoenix and getting an MBA. That's a different matter entirely.
First: How so?
Third: First of all, I have no girlfriend to please. Secondly, no one expects nearly as much of me anymore. Thirdly, it's as good a thing to do as any. I've got to do something with my life.
First: Why do you want to get an MBA?
Third: To get a better job.
First: Why do you want a better job?
Third: To make more money.
First: What do you need more money for exactly?
Third: To support my wife and kids down the line.
First: But you don't have a wife and kids and you don't know what they'd want from you. Your track record in that regard leaves a lot to be desired.
Third: True, but it certainly wouldn't hurt my prospects on finding a wife to have kids with. Right now I'm just a glorified computer nerd. We're a dime-a-dozen
First: And middle-management is much better...
Third: It'll at least give me the outward appearence of being less of a nerd.
First: You're a nerd that is a prolific writer. That should be a draw for at least somebody out there.
Third: So far it's only been a draw for the Lisas of the world. Not something I'd really care much to repeat.
First: It always bothered you that Anna didn't appreciate your writing.
Third: She did appreciate my writing. She was the first reader of every draft of AHD that I wrote. With some constructive criticism and earnest applause.
First: Yes, but she couldn't relate to it. She's not a writer herself and so that you spent so much time and effort into creating stories and she couldn't be a part of that.
Third: Doesn't really matter, though. If I expected someone super-philosophical and a writer who could relate too closely to my weird mind, that would be a little... well.. weird I guess. I'm not looking for someone exactly like me, just a nice compliment to me. Anna was that, if not enough of one to make it last.
First: But how do you expect to find someone that can appreciate you at all if you pretend to be a middle manager? Be it someone romantic or just a friend?
Third: What's your point here?
First: My point is that you'll always have trouble socially if you continue to neglect your core being.
Third: Why do you keep saying my "core being"? I am what I choose to be.
First: Exactly what The Second thought. Now you're considering getting an MBA and making more money and then meeting someone under a false pretense -- that you are just a regular schmo like all the middle managers out there -- in the same way that you presented yourself to Anna as someone basically undriven by personal desires. If insanity is going the same thing over and over again expecting different results, you're quite clearly insane.

It was about then that that in the corner of my eye, I saw The Second's hand slip. His head falls back against the headrest in the seat of the car. He's blacked out. The light turns red just a second before we go into the Intersection. A car at the light in the opposite way sees his light turn green and slams on the accelerator, hitting us within seconds. The car spins around and The Second snaps out of it and jumps out of the car to make sure the other driver is alright. The First and I also get out and watch him scramble about trying to figure out what happened and what to do. Once the cars are moved out of the Intersection, The Second starts making phone calls. First to Dad, then to Anna.

Second: Anna, this is Alex. I know I was supposed to go over there this afternoon to sleep, but I've gotten held up. I'll try to make it over there as soon as I can. Might not be until late this afternoon. Sorry. I love you, bye.

First: You don't tell her what happened until you get there. Tonight you're going to have a nightmare about the accident and for the next three months, every time you're the first car into the intersection, your heart is going to skip a couple beats and you're going to have a low-level panic attack. You're never going to tell Anna about this and as you re-evaluate your priorities and back down from law school and cut down on your college hours, she's going to wonder what's going on. You're going to keep her completely out of the process and she's not going to know what's wrong until it's too late, leaving her angry and confused. Why? Because you can be anyone that you want to be, and you chose to be the time of person that doesn't share his problems.
Third: I'm well aware of the mistakes that I've made, thanks.
First: Are you?

[Part Four]