Kryptonite

Years ago, when I drove back and forth to the mental hospital every evening to see Savant, a song by a new band, 3 Doors Down, would play on the radio. Kryptonite. It made me cry and it still can. Savant had always loved comics, so had my brother and my other son. All three of them joyously sported towel-capes in their youth. I had always associated Superman with them. And now Savant had gone crazy. My heart was broken. I prayed he was still in there somewhere, waiting for someone to find him and bring him back. No matter what, I would always be by his side, even though I had never felt so weak. It would take super-human strength to survive this horrible thing, for him and for me. It crushed me.

When I was young I had taken psychedelics a few times, one freakishly bad trip was all it took to put an end to that, so I had some idea of the places insanity may take someone. I remember how slowly time passed and how severe my fear was. I could not bear the thought that he was stuck in a similar place with a life sentence to spend there. No way to come down. The thought of it was agony to me. I would follow him to Hell and drag him out if I could and if I couldn't, I would stay there with him, he would not be abandoned by me. I love him with all my heart.