in bed with gloria , it would often be well past midnight , occasionally dawn , before he drifted into sleep , so intense were the memories of those exuberant , passionate , bloody leadville years , his mind blazing back at full bore , trying to unblur the faces , invoke the familiar voices , and tears coming when he did , because they brought with them the fleeting sensation of freedom and his old swagger and the limitless potential every morning had once afforded him .