Cut & Run (The A-Z Story of Derrick & Gregory)
Albeit slowly, Derrick was moving forward in his life.
Breakups and time zone changes had plagued him in his past year.
Courage was found in hope, but hope wasn’t something poor Derrick could hold.
Driving away from that place he loved, he knew it was time.
Everyone pushed him in one direction while everyone else pulled him in the other.
Forgetting about himself was Derrick’s only release.
Gregory was his brother, but only in the quotations sense of the word, and his companion on the trip.
He would listen to Derrick drunk ramble for hours about her and about this place.
Inebriated by alcohol was the only way Derrick would talk to him.
Joking turned serious when Derrick came down with the last shot.
Killing off the bottom of the shot glass he muttered, “It’s time to go.”
Leaving the bar as lonely as they had found it, they returned to the car one sober and one drunk.
Meaningful banter was also left in the bar, and they turned their back on the town one last time.
No one would have expected them to leave, they loved it, if only cities could love in return.
Opening and closing his eyes, in and out of sleep, to the rhythm of highway lights for hours, he slept.
Portland, their destination, was still hours, if not a day away.
Quickly passing cars on both side, Gregory was trying to shave hours off of their time.
Rightfully so, because Derrick was useless for another few hours until he sobered up.
Switching lanes and memories, they drove through the night, leaving behind everything.
Two guys in a car with not much else, a metaphor for their lives.
Until they reached a new city, so far the sun would set on, they drove.
Victory can only be found when you understand defeat, the simple difference of winning.
When she left Derrick, he left there.
Xanax wasn’t doing the trick, but the miles behind them were.
Your turn, Gregory said to him because he knew what was ahead.
Zion, their new city, their new love.