In 1999, I'm sitting alone in a dark, dingy, budget motel room in rural Virginia.  

    Downstairs I hear a couple arguing and throwing things.  

    Upstairs I hear a another couple making love, the headboard banging rhythmically against the wall.

       Intermittently, I hear the woman moaning.  

    I miss those days.  

    I close my eyes, and open my mouth.  I put the barrel of my silver .45 in my mouth.  There's no point anymore.  Three failed marriages?  I'm over 50 years old now.  There is no hope for love for me again.  I have aged well, but it's only a matter of time before my myriad injuries catch up with me.  
  
 I have been a financial disaster.    I haven't talked to Billy in years.  
  
    And my young children now...

   Yes, my time is over, but  I can no longer think about myself.  I should try to right the wrongs of the past the best I can. I will be the father for my young children that I wasn't for my older kids.