In the dark

I know I promised more frequent updates, but my new computer STILL isn't here!! I was expecting it today, but nothing yet. I have 2 days left before I turn 1 year older; something I have become less and less fond of over the past few years. All of my "elders" say I'm being silly; after all, I'm only turning 23, but it just seems like yesterday I was 17, not a care in the world. Now I'm an actual adult. I have responsibilities; bills, commitments, "grown-up" things to do. It's kinda cool I guess, and it's not like I can just stop it all and go back to being a kid. But man, it'd be nice.
I hadn't talked to Brad all week. I called him a few times, never actually talked to him, but left messages with different people for him to call me; voicemails, etc. but still nothing. I picked up his sister last night; we went to the next town over and ran some errands. When I stopped in to pick her up, Brad was just backing out of the driveway. As I pulled in, he gave me this kind of half-wave, like you give to someone you don't really know. That was it. I kinda stopped and looked at him, puzzled, as if to say "Do you not know who I am?" but he just drove away. I picked up my cell and called his; it rang 3 times and then I got a fast busy signal, meaning he had hit cancel on his phone. So when his sister came out and got in the car, I asked her if she knew what his problem was, and she said she had no idea. She asked me if he called me back the night before (as I had left a message with her for him to do so, and she passed it on to Brad) and I said that no, he hadn't. She shrugged her shoulders, and said she had no idea what was going on. So I let it go for the time being, and away we went.
Now Megan (Brad's sister) is 9 months pregnant. Up until a few weeks ago, she was an excellent pregnant woman - cheerful, excited, glowing. But a few weeks ago, she started to grow tired of carrying around what appears to be a large baby. As we drove to town, she said "Oh Jesus, just drop me off at the hospital and I'll get them the yank this goddamn thing out of me" I laughed, because she's been coming out with some pretty humourous stuff lately. The not-funny part was, it's entirely possible that she's going into labour any time now. Not that that would freak me out; I went to paramedic school, and the first thing they taught us was how to deliver a baby. When Melissa (my roommate) had her baby, I was in the delivery room with her; and the sight of blood and all that doesn't bother me one bit.
So we did what we had to do around town, and Megan had some things to pick up for her new apartment, which she plans on moving into a month after having the baby. We have all tried to tell her that a month doesn't give her much time to adjust, and maybe she should wait until the end of summer or something before taking such a big step. She and the father are no longer together, which is good, because he seemed to have something of an anger problem. Megan is the sister that I used to go out with, so of course, this being a small town and all, every guy in town seen with Megan was said to be the father of her baby. This angered the actual father even more, and every guy rumoured to be the baby-daddy, was approached by him, with some potentially violent undertones. He's one of these guys with a Napolean complex - he stands about 5'6", weighs maybe 140 lbs, and has legs on him like a grasshopper. But has he ever got a temper! Whenever he gets pissed off, you just want to pat him on the head and say "Ooh, simmer down, little guy. Have a popsicle." The great part is, he's like that, and Megan is one of these takes-no-shit girls. So when they got in a fight one day, while still living together, he told her to do something, and she said no. He kept asking, and she said no, so as he stood on the balcony overlooking the living room, he threw a stereo at her. It landed about 3 feet away from her, and apparently Megan didn't even blink. She looked up at him and simply said "Well, that was a good waste of $600 wasn't it?" and started packing her bags. He told her she wasn't going anywhere, and apparently she won that arguement because she showed up at her parents' house an hour later in his car, with all her stuff. I believe every word of that story because I know how Megan is: she doesn't intimidate easily; and for God's sake don't piss her off. She's very vengeful.
About a week after she moved back in with her parents, she found out she was pregnant. Her ex kept harassing her, ranging from her moving back in, to him threatening her friends and family. Not once did she give in to him, and besides the occasional threat made to other guy-friends of hers, he's done nothing he said he was going to do. Especially to her father. Now, I'm going to clarify something about Brad & Megan's dad - I may have made it sound like he was a nasty old guy, but he's really not. He's a really nice guy with a good sense of humour, but if you spent one day in their household you would quickly see why the Dad is so stressed out all the time. Between Brad's drinking; Megan moving back in, pregnant at that, and the other two siblings, especially Brad's 26 year old brother, who despite the fact that he has a kickass paying job, still lives at home. The Dad just kinda needs to vent from time to time, and when Brad was stumbling in drunk at all hours of the night, it just so happened that he was the easiest target.
I will also add that now that Brad's quit drinking, he and his father get along a lot better. This brings me back around to my original problem - Brad not talking to me. Last week after his meeting, he said something about him having to eliminate all things that reminded him of being drunk. At the time I thought nothing of it, but now that a week has gone by and we haven't spoken I can't help but think that maybe I am one of the things that reminds him of being drunk. After all, check the facts:
-Anytime we ever hung out, we were drinking. Brad more than anyone else.
-The first time we had sex, it was because we were drunk and had no inhibitions.
-The second, third, fourth, fifth, etc. times we had sex, we were in varying stages of drunkenness.
-Anytime we ever shared deep dark secrets with one another, Brad was usually drunk.
-Whenever we would go on our Friday-night booze-cruises, Brad would get drunk.

(Okay, now I know that some of you are probably thinking that maybe I have a drinking problem also, but I assure you I don't. Plus, when Brad quit drinking, I thought I'd try and quit just for fun, to see if I actually could, and I've also done well. I've had a social drink here and there, but I could always control myself anyways.)

So alas, now I'm scared that maybe I've been tossed out along with all the other things that reminded Brad of drinking. It's been worrying me all week, and today I've decided that I'm tired of thinking about it 24/7. So tonight after work, I know he doesn't have to work either, and I'm cornering him. I think I deserve to know what's going on; why my best friend won't even speak to me anymore, especially after all we've been through. This pit in my stomach is pissing me off.