Roger and I finally ended up connecting the last day of November.
He picked up the phone on the first ring, as if he knew it was me that was calling.
"Hello?"
"Roger!" I was genuinely startled to hear his voice. His lungs sounded clear this time, but there was still a lingering hint of depression.
"Mark."
"…Before we start talking- are you going to abandon me this time?"
"No Mark," he snapped. "I promise I won't."
"Okay, because I want to come. I really want to come."
"Well the door is open. It always is."
We were both silent for a while. I thought about what to say. What to do.
"I feel like such a fucking tool out here Mark!" Roger broke the silence. "Like I'm living one big cliché. It's not supposed to be like this…"
"Whoa. What do you mean?"
"I fucking love my life. So don't jump to conclusions about that, that's not what I mean. I'm living out my dream- my life is perfect. But I'm…It's different than I wanted it to be. I'm looking for something else. Like it's out of reach or something. I have the guts and the…and the glory and all the opportunity in the world… like it was just laid in my lap on a fucking golden platter. It's easy. It's too easy. I have the band and I have my guitar and I have…you, and hundreds of fans- I mean, come on, how consecrated am I? But I don't have…what the fuck is it! I don't have the passion. It exists! It comes out a little bit every time I step up to the microphone. I can feel it deep down- it's there- but it needs... it needs- I don't know. I don't know what it needs Mark, and that's the problem! A purpose? An outlet? A source?
You know what I'm doing out here? I'm playing music just to play fucking music. And once in a while I play music to make money. I don't want it to be that way! I want to play music because I need to. I want every lyric and every note to…fucking surge through my veins like it's going somewhere! I mean- it's not routine, whatever I'm doing in this fucking city… Being a rockstar? That's what you say.It's not like the fanaticism is gone cause it's gotten mundane… but it's just not who I am! I feel like I'm living a lie. I don't know. I don't… I'm sorry. Is any of this making any sense?"
I had to take a breath because I'd been holding mine the whole tirade.
"Roger! Yes Roger, oh my God." I swallowed. "If anyone can make sense out of the world it's you! I don't know what to tell you...Fuck. Don't...don't lose hope. You made it this far for a reason. You just have to trust yourself to make things right again! I can't imagine why you, of all people, would wind up in such a bind, but just don't do anything stupid. Just be…Roger. That's never failed you before. It got you where you are now- I'm not saying that's your downfall, but it's too early in the game to even analyze! You'll work it out. You'll find whatever it is you're searching for- I know you."
"And I trust you. I'm not even going to second guess."
"And I'm coming Roger. Less than a week and I can come and visit. And we can really talk. We won't have to worry about rushing in all this petty shit before we have to pick up the phone bill. Friday. I should be there Friday."
"Please. I'm holding you to that. Just show up."
"I will. I'll see you."
"See you Friday."