Superman

October 29, 2009
I never asked you why. Why you didn’t eat; why you smoked more cigarettes than any chain smoker I knew; how you were able to drink whiskey like its water while every other human choked on vomit spewing from parched tongues. You said you were superman; invincible. I wanted to believe you, more than anything I wanted to think that you could make it through anything. And I suppose my infatuation served as a dreadful purpose because I lacked the nerve to expose the questions that crossed my mind those late Saturday afternoons. I considered you my best friend; you knew all my secrets, my failures, dreams, hopes, and wishes. You knew each of my failures in past years; of every guy I’d hooked up with, the feelings of their smokers breathe on my neck. Each transgression, each faulty reaction to boys with lisps and tight jeans, paired with too much rum. I held in the contents of my stomach while listening to the whisper of voices whose names I would never remember in the morning.

Thinking over your life, my last memory is one that I wish I could forget, but I’ve based my life on that one memory. Falling onto the floor, eyes hazed from the recent line of coke; body twitching on the floor. That was the last time I would see those hazy green eyes, the last time your husky voice would speak pointless nothings; words I never expected to understand. A jumble on the floor, head smashing into the carpet, bouncing with the echo of a lost life. It was a picturesque moment, as tragic as it was beautiful. The final breath of a boy I loved most adamantly. Though my love was never enough to hold you down; never enough to save. The downward spiral that had become your life; it welcomed you. That was your love on this earth; the reckless habits that you enjoyed. Each line of cocaine, the burning feeling in your throat as you swallowed the last of the whiskey, the churning of your stomach, just begging from a morsel of food. You loved it; loved the power of controlling just one insignificant thing in your life. And that was exactly what you were controlling; your life. Every shallow breath that left your lungs, a single heartbeat in your chest. It was all a price worth paying to you. You flipped the switch on your life so fast, up and down and up and down. There was never a steady balance for you; manic highs, depressant lows; never an in between. You just needed a balance.

If I could have captured your life in a single word, you would think that reckless, stupid, or foolish would come to mind. But quite frankly, your life was beautiful, as were you. You lived freely, carelessly and didn’t need the world to tell you what to do with yourself. You lived, breathed, and more often than not took the lords name in vain; but that was okay with you. You knew what you wanted in life, even if that would in the end, cost you’re your life.

People often say that humans should “live life to the fullest”, but that wasn’t the case with you. You lived life as you wished, struggled, kicked and screamed your way through single moments in your life. Your funeral was beautiful. People asked if your death was intentional or accidental. I didn’t have an answer for them, but in all honesty, I have to believe that you knew what you were doing. Maybe in the begging you didn’t, but near the end of your life you knew that you had passed the point of where you thought you couldn’t return. Truly, I think I could have saved you. If you could have just found a place to let me in; just a small sliver in your heart that was covered with the idea that you didn’t need anyone’s help. I could have just taken your hand and guided your through all the shadows, but you wouldn’t accept that I loved you. Maybe you felt like you would hurt me, or maybe you just didn’t care. Either way, I wish you could have just let me in. I needed to save you; I needed to save you because you saved me. Because my love, I loved you and a part of me remains the same way. We made up for a part of each other that was lost along the way.

I don’t know if I believe in heaven or hell, but I really hope you’re in a better place. I see you every time I smell Camel cigarettes, or watch an episode of Tom & Jerry. I still think I can hear your voice some days, whispering pointless nothings, and playing poker. You’ll always be that one thing in my past that I won’t let go off. You taught me everything I know about survival. You were too weak to handle life, but you taught me how to endure. I haven’t drank since that night, touched or cigarette, or taken a hit of anything. You showed me life was important; to myself, and the ones that love me. I need to survive, to prove to you just how strong I am, and how much I could really have helped you. I will prove myself to you. Your life wouldn’t work for me. I couldn’t be superman like you believe you were, because even superman, falls.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback