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I guess it's true that there's light at the end of every tunnel.

It's been ten years since my father drank himself to death. I ended up spending the rest of my high school years living with my aunt. It was nice. She treated me well, and she never missed an opportunity to remind me that she loved me. She even let me visit my hometown every so often.

I chose to keep in touch with the family that ended up buying my old home, at her insistence. They had a son who was just a couple of years younger than me. We talked on Skype a lot, and sometimes we'd play video games over the Internet together. It was nice to finally have a guy friend.

As for Misty, the two of us grew apart after high school. She went away to some fancy college on the west coast, while I stuck to my local community college. I dated a few girls here and there, but never really clicked with any of them in a way that screamed "forever".

Then, by some stroke of luck, I ran into her again during my senior year. I had been feeling somewhat low after a recent breakup, so my aunt bought me a trip to San Francisco. While I was there, I ended up seeing her at the Golden Gate Bridge.

We talked for a while, and she revealed that after she finished her undergraduate degree, she was moving to New Orleans.

Of course, I was disappointed. I wanted nothing more than for her to move back home, so that we could pick things up where we left off. However, I could understand her decision. There wasn't much for her to do with her degree back where I grew up.

And so, I returned home feeling even more dejected than when I left. Once my aunt heard about what had happened, however, she insisted that I pack my bags and go to New Orleans myself. "A good love," she told me, "should never be wasted."

It took a lot of convincing, but finally I conceded. After I got my degree, I packed a single suitcase and booked a one-way flight to New Orleans. Once there, I used what little money I had to rent an apartment.

After a few days of searching, I found her again. She was living on the other side of the city, but that was okay. She still assured me that we could still see each other just the same. And so, I did what I'd been too nervous to do in San Francisco, and during all of those final days in high school: I asked her out.

We dated for a solid year before I mustered up enough courage to propose. She was ecstatic, which made me feel a whole lot better about what had otherwise turned me into a nervous wreck. We married five months later in a ceremony that was (of course) orchestrated entirely by her sisters.

Now, the two of us live together in a small home in the suburbs of New Orleans. I still suffer from occasional nightmares about my childhood, but other than that I'm doing okay.

Misty was the one who convinced me to write all of this down. She told me that it would help with the nightmares. And, in fact, it has. Finally having the opportunity to express my thoughts and memories in a way that I never could in speech has helped me more than I ever could have imagined.

"Ash?"

I looked up from my pad as my wife hugged me from behind. I felt her chin on my head as she murmured, "Writing again, hm?"

I set the pen down. "Yeah. I couldn't sleep."

She moved away from me and pulled out a chair. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

I shook my head and yawned. "Everything I have to say is stuff you've heard before." I slumped down in the chair, suddenly feeling tired again. "So what got you up?"

She gave a half-hearted laugh. "The baby was crying, so I got up and fed him. I was just about to go back to bed when I saw the light was on down here."

I glanced at the clock. 3:00 A.M. "You should go back to bed."

"Me? If anyone should be going to bed, it's you."

"You have to work tomorrow."

"So do you."

"Not until ten."

"You have to take Carlon to daycare at seven."

"Then I'll sleep afterwards."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you can't sleep now, too."

I sighed. "You're not going to give it up, are you?"

She smirked. "Nope."

I gave her an exasperated look. "Okay, okay. You can have your way. I'll be up in a few minutes."

She smiled and got back up. "Thank you." She kissed me on the forehead before heading back upstairs.

I watched her go before gettin up myself. I took my pad and pen and put them in their usual place on the counter. As I went to go upstairs, I caught sight of the first family picture we'd taken after Carlon's birth.

It was hard for me to believe that Misty and I had made something so beautiful together. Carlon was the best thing that ever could have happened to me. I know that sounds cheesy or cliché, but it's true. Knowing that Carlon was mine, that I was his father; that was the best feeling in the world.

I know that I'm not perfect. I make mistakes. I do and say things that are less than desirable more often than I'd like to admit. But I do try my best, and I've learned to live with my flaws. There are things in my life that I regret, and memories that are best left buried. But I also have many good memories, of myself and Misty, and now of Carlon.

Who knows what's down the road for me? I imagine that Misty and I will spend many years together, and maybe we'll add a couple more little ones to the family sometime in the future. I'll see all of my children off to college, or to wherever they wish to go.

But for now, I've got a job and a five month old to worry about.

And that's just fine with me.