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Wishing is pointless, yeah, but I’m still wishing I could have a do-over.
Really wishing I could go back, really wishing I could fix all this.
When?
I first think of when I drove him to Fango’s place that last time. I think, I should have worked harder to convince him not to go. I should have sold Chicago better, should have at least pretended to have more of a plan than I did. Just the two of us – together in Chicago. It sounds idyllic. Sounds like something I would never pass up on if he’d ever offered.
But ah, no, I don’t think so. He passed that up. He went with Avilio instead. Maybe it wasn’t persuasion but aggression that I needed. Shouldn’t have asked, should have just turned the car around when I got that bad feeling in my gut, should’ve, should’ve, should’ve,
He wouldn’t have come, anyway. I’d have to go further
I should never have taken him to Fango in the first place.
No, further.
I should never have been the first to try and involve him in the mafia. If I hadn’t proposed it before, I am certain that he would have met Avilio’s request with the same vehemence that he gave mine. I dulled his defenses, I must’ve weakened him or some shit. Corteo would never, Corteo hated the mafia more than anything. He wouldn’t,
Or, no, I’m fooling myself. I’m wrong, thinking that I had any effect on anything that Corteo did. I am giving myself much more credit than I deserve. It was never me, and it never would’ve been me, never, in a million fucking years, never, would anything I ever said or ever did or ever felt –
Compared to Avilio, I am nothing.
A pile of dog shit.
He would’ve done anything for Avilio – hell, he couldn’t have done more for the guy.
And yet.
I know that there is nothing I have done that I could redo. It wouldn’t be enough for this miracle do-over to let me try again, I’d need it to let me change things, go back and try things for the first time, let me just,
Let me be there for him.
Nowhere short of childhood would do him any good. Avilio is only as important as he is because of childhood. Because they have history. I know, Corteo has told me a thousand times. He would go to the Bruno’s family home almost on a daily basis, he’d eat the amazing food Mrs. Bruno made, he’d play with Avilio’s younger brother, and it was all heavenly. It was idyllic.
I think if I’d been there then, I could have stopped him. If I’d been there then, I would have been important to him, I would have actually mattered to him, and anything I said or did would have actually stood against all of Avilio’s needs.
If I’d been there, he wouldn’t have been alone. We would have grown close. We would have been like real brothers.
I am sure that I wouldn’t have left him.
How could Avilio have done that to him?
…Then again, how could Avilio have done that to him?
Neither of us was cut out for this life. I am wishing I’d told him that. I am wishing I had realized it earlier, said it to him sooner. He definitely knew all along. He knew before either of us even tried to toss him in...
Listen.
I’m telling ya, if I’d had the money, I’d’ve paid for him to get into college, had I known better. I would’ve paid for him to do whatever the hell he wanted if I’d known it would save him. That idiot. That asshole. That borderline angel.
Fuck that idiot and his fucking friend, fuck his friend, fuck him, fuck him, fuck him a thousand times over..!
Fuck me for not doing more.
God I should’ve done more.
Crying is so damn useless.
Really wishing I’d just cut it out already.