Hello everyone. Thanks for waiting so patiently for this next addition to Kiss of Life. I made it a little bit longer because I got the feeling that I should wait for a little bit with this chapter, and then once I got started, a lot more flowed out than even I was expecting. I could have kept going, but I thought it best to stop here for now, and then to let the next chapter come to me in the natural process. Thanks for being so patient, and I hope that you guys enjoy!! It's a pleasure writing for everyone- believe me! You can send an email to NoniMouse440@hotmail.com to send in any comments. I always appreciate feedback, or just a nice hello from readers. Thanks to all again for making this a special triumph for me.
NM
Chapter 10:
Man is led by his ability to dream. His ability to see life as it is, and to reach out for life as it could be. Great men are judged by how closely they can bend the seemingly inflexible reality of what is, to what can be. The tiny spark of creationism, the power to make something out of nothing, is what defines man. It helped him to rise from the plains, to cross the continents, and to establish his civilization in his image. But not all dreams are noble, or progressive. Some dreams are nightmares- horrible and surreal in quality, and a catalyst for great change and strife within and with-out man. Sometimes so powerful they cause man to doubt the very fabric of reality as it lays before him- disoriented, or even conscious and actively wishing, merging the meanings of the words "safe" and "real." But what's real isn't always what's safe, and what's safe can't always be real, and sometimes nightmares are true, like Detective John Anderson was finding out hiding naked, covered in bits of dirt, grass, and cum and sweat, underneath his Volvo on the side of the road. He had rolled under there when car lights had illuminated his bare behind; those lights turned out to belong to one of the patrol cars of his town. It was probably someone from his department- he thought to the time. It was after 2:30 in the morning- only a few people were out patrolling that late- and he knew that this stretch out route belonged to Officer Ronald DeVarias. Not that he knew DeVarias personally, but he'd heard that DeVarias could be a good guy. He hoped that it was true. "Ok- whoever you are- come on out with your hands up- slowly. I've got my gun out and I will use it if you try anything funny. Out- now!" DeVarias called. He stood at 5'10", sturdy with 180lbs of muscle to further command the authority of his booming, deep voice. His skin was olive complexioned, smooth. He stood there, hard stance, gun out in front, flashlight pointed towards the under carriage of the car. He saw a foot trying to make itself invisible under there. What would someone be doing out in the middle of the night, hiding underneath a car on the side of the road? His suspicions were howling in his ears, and he became even tenser. "I said come on out! If you don't I will be forced to use force to remove you. This is your last warning," DeVarias called out. He clicked back the safety on the gun, and took a step away from the car. He wanted to give himself optimum room to discharge his weapon as effectively as possible. John, recognizing that his situation required only one specific remedy, sighed, and then called out to his coworker. "Ron! Ron, put that gun down, and get that light outta my face, would you? Sheesh," trying to sound as though he'd had every right in the world to be naked and messy and hiding under his car, John waited to hear DeVarias' response. "De...Detective... Anderson? Is that you?" DeVarias called out. The gun drooped in his hand, as his mind reeled from the confusion. Detective Anderson? Under the car? Huh? "Yes, Ron. Now as I said- put that gun away- and that flashlight too... I'm in a bit of a jam, and I need your help. Do you have an extra jacket or something in the car?" Ron felt even more confused, and as he put his weapon away, and turned off his flashlight, all sorts of questions raced through his mind. Like, for example- where were Detective Anderson's shoes? The one foot he'd seen looked extremely naked, and he figured that in fact both feet would be bare. But he'd save his questions for later- right now he had a mission. A superior had given him what he supposed was an order, and he'd be sure to follow. He went back to the car, checking to see if he did in fact have an extra jacket in there. Once he'd discovered that he hadn't, he went back to the car. "Detective Anderson, sir. I don't have any extra clothing in my squad car. If you want, I can go back down to the precinct and get you something?" "No! Ron! Don't leave, ok! I... I need your help. I... Ron... I'm..." for a minute, he wasn't sure it would come out. He didn't know DeVarias that personally, and he was afraid to extend himself out to this man whom he had to turn to the next day in the sunshine, and talk to face to face. But, no one better than a boy in blue, he thought. They were all brothers in it together, and if there was anything he realized he could do, it would be to turn to a brother to ask for a favor. "Ron... I'm... naked under here. I locked my clothes in the car... I was reaching for my cell phone when you came up on me... I need your shirt- to wrap around my waist- you undershirt I mean. I'm sorry to have to ask Ron... I also need a ride- to my place. It's not too far away- if anyone asks, I'll cover for you, ok? I'm sorry man, but I really need your help." He waited, listening to DeVarias breathing in the interim. "Ok... sir... hold on... I'll give you my... what ... no- I'm sorry. Hold on- I'll slip you my shirt... and my shorts- I assure you, they're ok. I didn't get on shift till a little while ago, and I showered once I got to the station and put these on. They're still fresh. Just... give me a minute, ok?" John almost cried in relief. Once he got out of this kind of a situation, he'd kiss DeVarias on the lips, the ass, the nuts- wherever he needed kissing. He felt so relieved. He heard DeVarias unzipping, and unbuckling his pants, and curiosity got the best of him. He wasn't trying to be a perv, but he couldn't resist taking a peek. DeVarias was standing on the passenger side of the car, and John slipped over a bit so that he could see a little better. All he could get a view of, was of DeVarias' nicely shaped calves, and his pants sliding down and bunching around his ankles. DeVarias reached down, and tugged on each pant leg to pull it off over his shoes. He straightened up, and stood there in the warm air. He hadn't been aware that John's head was now peeking out from under the car, staring right up into his crotch, mesmerized by the bulge that was there. It seemed as though DeVarias were sporting half wood. Must be something having to do with being naked and outdoors- very liberating, and sexually exciting, John thought, remembering his own not so long ago experience. DeVarias' hands hooked into the waistband of his boxer shorts, and he slid the white cotton down his muscled thighs, bending over slightly as he was doing it, but not too much. As he pulled his left leg out of the hole, he stumbled, and turned sideways a bit, flashing John a sight of not only his low dangling, plump testicles, slightly shiny and covered in black fur, but also, of the man's taint and asshole, also lined with a small dusting of black hair. John bit back the groan in his mouth, and pulled himself back under the car. When the time came to put those shorts on, he didn't want to stand up sporting wood. It'd be hard enough to not pop wood thinking about John's balls having been bunched up in the same spot where his would be. John concentrated to clear his mind- of DeVarias, of Mike, of work, of everything. He meditated, a practice that had sustained him through his life and career so far. He began by falling into what he called his first circle, the calm. After that was his second circle, the path. One had to be calm in order to find the path. After traveling down his path, he'd come to his third circle, the light. The light would lead him to his fourth circle, the warm. All this meditating would eventually lead him thru his fifth circle, the deep, his sixth circle, the verge, and his seventh and last circle, serene peace. He used his meditation to get over a lot of things that had happened in his life- the violent death of his mother at his father's hands when he was 9, living with his religiously conservative and inattentive grandparents until they both perished in a fire when he was 15, and then being shuttled from relative to relative until he was finally 18. At that point, he'd joined the local ROTC, gone though his training, and come out the other end, motivated to become a policeman. To him, it was the ultimate statement of accountability. It was the pinnacle of his arrival- he'd made it, whole, scarred, but functional, and alive. And then there'd been Tiffany, his first... his first everything. He'd fallen deeply in love with her, only to discover 5 years into their relationship that she wasn't the one. Which didn't mean that he didn't love her. He just... something had changed. He'd been through a lot during his first 5 years on the force, and he felt different inside, if not out. He'd come home from work, a little worn out from his day, and he'd look at Tiffany, and realize that she didn't perk him up- she wasn't what he wanted to come home to... she didn't make him feel alive, or that it was all worth it. Tiffany was too self sufficient- he felt as though she didn't need him. He loved her, dearly, but he realized that he'd never really been in-love with her. He'd also been carrying around a lot of hurt and baggage that he'd never really dealt with- and so, one day, long after he let go of Tiffany, coming into the locker-room at the station, he'd found one of his fellow officers sitting facing the window, on the floor, cross legged with his eyes closed and his hands placed on the caps of his knees. He wanted to ask him what he was doing- sitting there, so serene looking, seemingly at peace. Not necessarily vulnerable- but at peace- balanced. In an instant, Anderson instantly wanted that peace- longed for that security, and instead of leaving, as his shift was over, he sat there and waited. The cop sat there, and waited and waited, never once growing anxious or fidgeting. He sat there with patience, for 40 minutes, until his fellow officer looked up, his dark skin seemingly glowing with life, and the small smile that had played over his lips extended, and he spoke. "You have the basics. What it takes, John, to get this far, is patience, my friend. You'll come with me to the next class, right?" And John had, going with his fellow officer, a young 27-year-old black man by the name of Theodore C. Graham, also called Ted, Theo, but never Teddie... by anyone but John, and that was in private. It was also his first homosexual experience. At first, John wasn't sure what to do in bed- he felt awkward and very unsexy. He figured himself as very inexperienced- only having slept with one woman, and during the last year of their relationship, that had been few and few in between. Ted took control, taking trembling hands and guiding them lovingly and gently. Tender Ted- at 5'7", and 140lbs, and a cocoa complexion, no one could say that Ted exuded authority. But in the bedroom, Ted was undoubtedly the master, but not dominating- more explorative. As John's confidence grew, so did his attachment to Ted. They were together for 2 years, which made Ted's death that much harder to bear- not only had he lost a lover and a partner, but also a damned good friend. John was sure that he'd loved Ted- that he'd been in love with Ted. The pain of losing him was as though his soul were being torn in two. He cried, day and night, for hours on end. He couldn't sleep, and working had lost its appeal and mission for him. He grew sullen and sagged with his own sorrow. And when the grieving got to be too much, and he'd sat there that day, gun in hand, tears streaming down a stubbly, haggard face, a voice had spoken very clearly in his head, "patience my friend," and he broke out into a fresh batch of sobs. The crying this time, though, felt like it was burning him up from the inside- and when he was done, he felt clean- and empty. And he took himself up, went to the window, and meditated as he'd done so many times before. Yet this time he filled himself with calmness, instead of calming the turbulence within him. When he stepped up to death's door that day, he'd been prepared to cross over, step into a void of absence where there was no anything for him to experience, or to hurt him. Yet, when he stepped away from death's door, he was a different man- full of salvation and serenity. And he took this with him wherever he went. Hence, as John lay there under the car meditating, he focused himself, and his arousal went away. Also gone were his embarrassment and his nervousness- he'd had a mission to undergo, and in his third circle of meditation, the light, he'd programmed his mind to attack that task flat out, and that's what he'd do. He stepped out from under the car, safely flaccid and under control, and stepped into DeVarias' shorts. DeVarias had in the meantime, buttoned back up his pants, zipped them, taken off his shirt, taken off his undershirt, and was now re-buttoning his shirt and tucking it back into his pants. There was silence between the two men as they each dressed. DeVarias' had questions flying back and forth thru his mind- but he was afraid to open his mouth to ask them. He stood there, building his courage, and as he finally turned towards Anderson to ask, Anderson spoke. "I know, Ron, that I'm in a very compromised position. The truth is, I took a couple of liberties that I shouldn't have, and got myself into this situation. The truth also is that I'm very glad and fortunate that you came along- there's no one better to trust than a brother, and brother, am I ever so thankful for your help. Know this- we're here for each other, but if there's anything you need that's above and beyond, you come to me first, you got that? You let me know first, and I will do everything in my power, and a little beyond, to help you. You got that, Ron?" He had taken Ron by the shoulder, and was looking deeply into his eyes. DeVarias sensed that the naked man who had called out to him from under the car, and this man standing here talking to him, were not the same person. This person was more confident- even in a compromised situation, he stood with strength and character. DeVarias nodded firmly, and thanked his superior. "Thank you very much sir. Believe me when I say that this is between you and I. You don't even have to ask." DeVarias could hear his mother's voice in the background, leaving to him lessons of being responsible, being an adult- being a good person in general. "You never kick a man when he's down, son. Even when he's your enemy son, because otherwise you become just like him, and you lose yourself, and then you lose the battle. Also son, a good person knows how to be a confidant. Never betray someone's trust unless they're planning to hurt himself or herself or someone else. You got me? Good. Now go clean that dirty ass pig sty you call a room! If you wanna breed flies and shit, you'd better get a damned job and go live out in that nasty girl Sherry's house. Don't give me that look! That tramp is FILTHY! You seent, her, right? Wearing all that damned make-up like she's the poster child for Revlon. She ain't no damned model! If I ever catch you with your dick within ten feet of that heifer, I'm gonna cut it off my damned self! Don't look at me like that and roll your eyes! Shit- I got a college degree. I EARNED my right to talk like this!" DeVarias cracked a small smile at the thought of his mother, still alive, in control and as feisty as ever. The, so as to not to make Anderson think that the smile had something to do with him, DeVarias quickly explained. "Just something my mother said to me a long time ago, sir." John smiled himself. "Never told you there'd be days like this, huh?" At that, DeVarias burst out laughing. "No sir, not quite!" The two men walked towards the squad car, chatting, getting to know one another. They rode to John's apartment in an amicable silence. Once they got there, John knocked on his neighbor's door- even though the man was asleep, John knew that he wouldn't mind the mid-twilight interruption. The man whom John was in the process of waking up, was the owner of the building, not to mention his last living relative on the planet. John and his Uncle Tommy shared a special relationship- in fact, he was the first person John confided to when Ted and he began their relationship. At first, his uncle was supportive, yet a bit distant- he kept repeating that he didn't want to hear details. After 3 months of seeing John glow from an internal light of love and fulfillment, he cornered John as he was about to enter his apartment, and eyed him up and down. "Well damn, looks like I better get me summa what you got, cause it looks like cock is the cure for all! I got me some constipation and a lil' twinge in my left leg every time I hafta walk down stairs. This feller, he have a brother?" John stared at his uncle, open-mouthed and in shock, not sure whether the man was unexpectedly and uncharacteristically attacking him, or whether the man was making a joke. His uncle had a mischievous gleam in his eye, which John caught onto, and then burst into braying laughter, bent over double and trying to hold himself up. Uncle Tommy chuckled a few times, and patted his nephew on the back. His sister had done good- it was a shame he wasn't in the country to help her when she'd needed help... his heart still ached for the baby-faced blond that had attached herself to his soul from the day she could walk. He had loved his sister deeply- saw himself as her big brother, protector and best friend, and he was so angry with himself for not having been there when she'd been murdered, that he left the country again right after her funeral, unable to bear the guilt of looking into her son's eyes and acknowledging his failure. He'd come back 10 years later, in time to make a good deal to buy the apartment complex he now lived in with the rest of the money left to him from his parents' death. He instantly sought out a connection with his nephew, facing his worst inner demons, and triumphing in a beautiful relationship with the boy. John was like the son he'd left behind in Vietnam... He never even knew the boy's name... He had a picture- of the boy and the boy's mother... they'd disappeared one day, their village decimated as though they'd never even really existed. He'd searched for days, against his Lieutenant's orders... but to no avail... which was also when he decided that to return to America, not a hero, but a villain, after having lost his... his own family... he'd wanted that family so badly... he couldn't do it. So he'd gone to the Bahamas- got involved in some business deals that went down there, and ended up operating a security firm that handled most of the casino business in Nassau. It was a good job- kept him busy so that he didn't have too much time to sit and think... but there were those lonely evenings, sitting on the beach, sipping authentic Island rum mixed with coke, remembering her smile... remembering their son... with his blue eyes... John and his uncle had stood in the hallway that day, and hugged one another after the laughter had subsided- they really hugged. It was the first time that Tommy actually cried in front of John, and it was the first time that John confessed to anyone what he really felt in his heart for Ted. "I love him Uncle Tommy. I really think I love him." Uncle Tommy smiled to himself. "Well you'd better bring him over for dinner then. If he can survive a night of my cooking, then I'll know he's tough enough for my favorite boy." And that was how it was- Ted was introduced to Tommy, and the two of them hit it off fantastically. Tommy looked at the two of them, standing in the kitchen, washing dishes side by side- tall John, and short Ted, and thought that he couldn't see it- John being bent over and stuffed with Ted's cock. He turned the image around in his head, and that seemed to make more sense to him. The couple looked odd- he wasn't sure at first what to really think about Ted being black. He'd served with black guys in the army- hung around a few of them afterwards, and of course on the Island, he'd had to interact with tons of black people. But he'd never really thought of his John and Ted together in... well, a relationship, he guessed. But the two seemed happy enough- and they worked well with each other. Tommy made a mental note to get to know Ted better- invite him over for a game, or something when John wasn't around- to take the initiative to seriously get the scoop on "John's feller." And when Ted had died, Tommy tried his best to comfort his nephew. He'd even taken up to meditating with John sometimes, maybe not as effectively, but he felt that even his physical presence near John helped him through the hard times- and he was right. John stood in the hallway, DeVarias outside in the car waiting. Uncle Tommy took a lot longer to move around these days- being a bit older. But the man was still a firecracker. "If you don't have a pair of tits the size of my fucking head, I'm gonna put u on your knees, turn around, and take a shit in your Godless mouth," John heard coming from behind his Uncle's door. The man must have fallen asleep on the couch... again. More and more these days, John worried about his Uncle. If he didn't take special care of himself... the door opened. "Hi Uncle Tommy... sorry to get you up so late, but I had an emergency, and I need the spare key to my apartment." Uncle Tommy stood there, robe open, hair flayed out in multiple directions, and a drool streak running from the left side of his face, all the way to his ear. He wasn't a fat man- Tommy had always had a lean build, and the years of rum and coke hadn't given him the paunch that older men seem to inherit. Beneath the robe, Uncle Tommy was dressed in a pair of wrinkled blue and white striped oversize cotton boxers, with the fly partially open so that one could glance by and see his thighs, and, a white tee shirt. Tommy broke into a smile- no matter what time of day, no matter the situation, seeing his nephew always brightened the moment. "Hey Johnnie-boy! It's good to see you! But do you know what mutherfucking time it is?! I oughta make you bend down and lick my fucking hairy old-man sac! Oh shit- you'd probably like that too much anyway, wouldn't ya! Ha ha, kid, I'm just messing. What's up with your clothes, boy? You streakin' the neighborhood now? OH! You're probably comin' form some young stud's house, huh? At least one of us is getting' lucky, eh! I've got my eye on this lady down at the grocery store- her name is Julie. She keeps slipping me the eye- I know she wants it, kid; I still got it, eh! They can feel my mule-dick coming from a mile away, and as shy as they are, they all come runnin! Speaking of, so when're you going to settle down? Bring home a nice young feller to take care of me and cook for me, eh? I'm not as young as I used to be- and you need some kids around this place, damnit! It's too quiet! So when're u going to bring home somebody for me to harass, Johnnie-boy! I don't have for fucking forever, u know!" John burst out laughing, filling the hallway space with his deep voice. He hugged his uncle tightly, and let go. Uncle Tommy reached out to the desk on his left, and pulled back a key with a rainbow key-chain on it. In fact, all of Uncle Tommy's key-chains were either rainbows, or gay themed. He had a huge rainbow flag hung on the wall above his couch- it looked entirely out of place and uncomfortable there- but the old man insisted that that was the way it should be- in plain sight of anyone who happened to walk by and look in, or come over, and standing out so loudly that it could not be ignored. He was proud of his nephew, and had even joined P-FLAG. Though he didn't attend the meetings as often as he knew he could, he knew that it was the thought that counted where his nephew was concerned. John looked at the keys in his hand, and smiled. He was so fortunate to have his Uncle Tommy. He kissed the man on the forehead, ever so gently, and stood back from him. "Leave the door open, cause I'm gonna be right back, Uncle Tommy. I need to grab my spare car keys from my place, and I'm gonna drop these back off, ok?" John ran up the hallway to his own apartment, and unlocked the door. He didn't even go inside all the way- just reached in the door, and grabbed the spare car keys from the dish on the table to his left. He pulled the door closed, and returned to his Uncle Tommy's apartment. The man had shuffled back to the couch, and was in the midst of falling back asleep. "Thanks Uncle Tommy- I appreciate it. I owe you- in fact, I just may bring home that young stud you were talking about to take care of you and cook for you. I don't know if he can cook yet, but once I find out, I'll let you know. Besides, if I turn out to be tough enough to survive his cooking, then I know that you will be too!" Tommy smiled sleepily from the couch, and drifted back off to sleep. "And GO GET IN YOUR BED!" Uncle Tommy roused himself, and rose, turned off the television, gave his nephew a dirty look, and grumbled all the way to the back into his bedroom. John smiled, dropped his spare key back onto the table, and made sure the door was locked before he closed it. He ran back out of the building, to the waiting car, which turned around and took him back to his black Volvo, still locked and by the side of the road. Officer DeVarias waited to make sure that John could get into his car, and then with a farewell wave, took off to continue the rest of his patrol. John sighed with relief, his mission accomplished, and as he was about to step back into his car, his foot nudged something in the grass. He bent down to take a closer look... his cell phone! He'd forgotten all about it! But now he had his cell phone, his car, and his clothes- and he made his way back to his apartment, headed for some hot tea and a much-needed shower. On the other side of town, Michael sat up on his couch, facing the window where he'd nearly met his end, deep in thought and drinking a cup of tea. He'd tried to sleep, but after an hour of useless tossing and turning, he decided that staying up long enough to catch the sunrise would do him some spiritual justice. He was thinking about the fact that he knew nothing about the wonderful detective who'd come into his life most recently, and trying to decide what he wanted to know most. Was it why he'd become a police officer? Was it whether or not he'd ever been in a relationship before? Was it even what was the guy's birthday? There was a lot of basic ground to cover. But at the rear of it all, he felt an excitement that he'd felt only once before- had allowed it to fool him into thinking that life would be ok, even for someone as afflicted as he. He'd been 24, desperately lonely, and there had been Andrew. Andrew, 27, funny, warm, handsome... a great kisser. He'd met Andrew at a poetry reading at the local café in the town that he'd been in at that time. Andrew was Mexican, and had been adopted by a family in the United States form an orphanage in Mexico. He always said that he was lucky to have escaped such a fate- poor and orphaned. His family, not altogether wealthy, did have enough to send Andrew to college, where he'd gotten a degree in Business Administration, and at 27, headed up a management team at his company. Andrew was passionate, well-spoken... burning hot with aspirations and 3 and 4 and 10-year plans. He seemed so progressive- and Mike made the mistake of wanting to touch him- wanting to hold onto that, and allowed Andrew to get close when he showed interest. Mike let himself be kissed, caressed, and kissed back, caressed back. And finally after their 4th date, when Andrew's caressing became a little more insistent, Mike geared himself up, and pulled away from Andrew, and looked him in the eyes. "Andrew... I like you, I really do. But before we go any further, there's something I need to tell you...." And he told him... and Andrew looked confused for a moment, and then disgusted. "You mean to tell me that you're not clean?" That stung- yes, yes he was dirty. Dirty with a stain that couldn't get washed away. Mike cried then, openly sobbing in front of Andrew, who looked increasingly uncomfortable. "Look man, don't cry or nothing. I mean, I appreciate you telling me and all... but this isn't something I want to deal with, ok man? Look- thanks for the good time- I had fun... but I gotta go... it's probably not a good idea to call me. I won't tell anyone though, I mean- it's cool. Don't worry about that. Look, I gotta go now. I'll see you around, ok?" Mike never forgot the look of disgust that crossed Andrew's face. It stayed with him, shutting him down even further than anything he'd experienced before. It hurt- he hadn't know what he'd expected, really. He resolved himself then to being alone- maybe getting a preferred member's card at Duracell, or maybe Energizer... since it seemed like those would be the only things keeping him up all night long. But when he thought he was dead to the world, along came this tall, dark handsome prince who kissed him- gave him a breath of life, of hope. Was he deserving? He didn't know. Goodness knows he'd had a couple of run ins where he hadn't told his partner... but they were one night stands, and he'd been 20 then... not entirely responsible then... but could there be redemption for that? For putting someone else at risk? This was where his guilt lay- burning like a cinder in his gut. What if something had happened? He sighed- the pressure was almost too much to handle. Could he... should he pay the rest of his life in a penance of solitude? Could he... should he confess this to John? That he hadn't always been careful- that he could have potentially hurt others with the way he'd been hurt himself? People who did that didn't deserve to be happy. They didn't deserve to have a Prince Charming come along to rescue them. But here he was, in fate's arms, moving towards something that he wasn't sure what... like moving out of darkness and into a sunny, clear morning. He felt that his life was at a twilight- though it didn't necessarily have to be a twilight before a sunset. Maybe one day, he could be sitting here on this couch, John sitting behind him, naked... and his heavy, magnificent balls cuddled up to the crack of Mike's ass. Mike sighed- feeling those balls strapped up tight behind him, warm and round and resilient... he started to imagine what the detective would look like naked- furry? Smooth? Undoubtedly delicious. Mike sighed. If it was the beginning of a new day, then Mike realized that the old saying was indeed true, "it's always darkest before the dawn."