May 30
So why am I sitting here on my ass and not tearing up the planet looking for Sam? Because I know exactly where he is, and there's no way of bringing him back this time, even though accepting it turns me to cold ash inside. No spell, no ritual, no cross-road deal, not even an angelic prison break can get Sam back from where he's gone.
I never told him about Dad. I never told him a lot of things, important things. Now I wonder why the fuck I thought I had to keep it all to myself. He begged me to talk to him, to open up and trust him, more than once.
I should have. I owed him that, no matter what craziness was going on around us. No matter that sometimes one of us was the craziness. Maybe it would have given him at least a little peace to know that he really was the good son, Dad's favorite son. The real son.
So, that's why I'm here, I guess. It's the middle of the night. I can't sleep anyway, so I've decided I'm gonna sit here as many nights as it takes to work through this Dad crap at least and put it in the past where, dammit, it really already is. Except I keep dragging it back up here into the present to pick at and I really ought to stop that. I really ought to get more sleep and eat more leaves and twigs and drink less booze, too, but I don't see any of those things happening any time soon.
I can't really make it up to Sam. I can't do anything at all for him now. But maybe by working though all this in my head, the lesson will finally sink in and I won't have to take this class over. The final exam is a stone bitch. Especially when you fail it.
I don't want to make the same mistakes with Ben that I made with Sam. That Dad made with both of us.