C. called last night.

i haven't spoken
to him in over
a year.

i cut off the
friendship because
he was too
much to handle,
what with all
the ups and downs
and constant
dramas of his bipolar life.

but i knew he would
eventually call,
out of the blue, as
the manic
phase kicked in
once again.

he said his mom
died five
months ago and
he got in a
horrible accident while
she was on
her death bed.

said he's still not
working, but is
living comfortably off
the life insurance,
and his mom
left him the house
in Dayton.

said his cat ran away
two months ago
and he bought two new
cars with part of
the life insurance
settlement.

said he just
called to let
me know.

i thanked him
and wished
him well,

knowing that he
will always live his life on
the edge of a vast
ocean, hopping from one
island of crisis
to the next;

knowing that i
won't hear
from C. again until
the dramas in
his life become
too much
for even him to handle;

knowing that i'll
be there for
him, a familiar voice
on the other end
of the line
listening to the sagas
of a man
in the grips of

madness.

-published in Thunder Sandwich #19