Speaking with Matt last night really threw me off. Everyone I love most in the world was rooting for me to fail. I feel like Wyatt Earp walking into the OK Corral without Doc Holliday in his corner. There was only one other person I could trust, and if he didn't put his faith in me, no one would.
I told Scott I wanted to meet up for a beer, that I need to get something off my chest. I went silent, I couldn't get the words out. Then he said: it's not your fault. I said I know. He said again: It’s not your fault. I said don’t fuck with me, not you Scott. Just as I was about to speak again, he simply replied, I know.
I froze up. How was this possible? My mind raced as I tried to recall some of the paranormal science research I had done back in college. All I could think of was that scene where Bill Murray keeps shocking the dude who is trying to guess the symbols so that he can hit on the chick. That didn’t solve this mystery.
Scott told me he found my blog online. I knew what was coming, Scott was going to throw in the towel for me just like everyone else. Never in a million years would I have predicted what happened next. He told me he was going to Vegas on the weekend of the 18th. I couldn't believe it, that was one week before I left for the trail. He said he had already bought a ticket for me, that this was going to be a celebration. Everyone knew I would make it this time, and this was their way of showing support. As I held back the tears, all I could say was, thanks dude. After he finished his beer, he looked over and said 'by the way, Tim is not invited'. I couldn't hold back the tears any longer.
Today was the best day of my life.
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