Shell-Shocked
I used to be a trooper.
Today, however...today I didn't want to explain that, in the death of a friend, an old friend became a human being again and an even older friend became an ever larger pock mark on society. I don't want to explain what it feels like to have every bad memory - every horrible situation you've ever endured - dragged up in the span of four hours. To stare at one friend in a casket and see another in a closet. To watch a man you love more than anything in the world lose his best friend - his brother - and see a memory standing in a shadow enduring the same pain. To look across the room and see someone and know that the words "how did this get so fucked up" don't even begin to sum up the damage that the course of one evening can do - and then to realize that for all the damage it did, it's finally becoming nothing more than one evening. Or to look at see someone, that for five years of space and time, has neither grown nor changed - to realize that, with him, it will never be just one evening. To watch a mother suffer the grief of losing a son.
I don't know how to write or explain what it feels like to watch as four days pass, stuck on a single pervasive thought; "This wasn't supposed to happen yet - things weren't OK between us yet." I struggle between thinking the things, once intended as jokes, that became a part of my ingrained reality; that King was supposed to live in our guest bedroom in perpetuity - that he would follow Mike anywhere and that meant that he would always be a part of my life. no matter what. There was supposed to be time to work things out. There was supposed to be a time - and it felt so close around the corner - when I would be in a place where my own life didn't keep me too exhausted to deal with his. Things were supposed to go back to normal - they were supposed to go back to the way they were before Sean lied - before King lied.
It isn't that I worry that he didn't understand. I'm sure he did. King, for all the people he knew, knew me well enough to understand all of the reasons I pulled away from him. He knew that my goal wasn't to get away from him, but only to keep my head above water - to get myself to a better place.
I think he knew I loved him.
I say that I think he knew it because things were never the same - things never got back to normal. Things never got back the way they were supposed to be - and it wasn't his fault, it was my choice. Some may have wanted a goodbye or one last conversation - all I wanted was to take back the one warning I ever gave him; don't touch me. It never had anything to do with him, but he respected it nonetheless. King wasn't handed the moniker "hoover" for no reason, and while I'm not eager to return to those days in any quick manner, two years ago I asked and I never rescinded the request.
There are few things I wouldn't give for one more hug.
Today, however...today I didn't want to explain that, in the death of a friend, an old friend became a human being again and an even older friend became an ever larger pock mark on society. I don't want to explain what it feels like to have every bad memory - every horrible situation you've ever endured - dragged up in the span of four hours. To stare at one friend in a casket and see another in a closet. To watch a man you love more than anything in the world lose his best friend - his brother - and see a memory standing in a shadow enduring the same pain. To look across the room and see someone and know that the words "how did this get so fucked up" don't even begin to sum up the damage that the course of one evening can do - and then to realize that for all the damage it did, it's finally becoming nothing more than one evening. Or to look at see someone, that for five years of space and time, has neither grown nor changed - to realize that, with him, it will never be just one evening. To watch a mother suffer the grief of losing a son.
I don't know how to write or explain what it feels like to watch as four days pass, stuck on a single pervasive thought; "This wasn't supposed to happen yet - things weren't OK between us yet." I struggle between thinking the things, once intended as jokes, that became a part of my ingrained reality; that King was supposed to live in our guest bedroom in perpetuity - that he would follow Mike anywhere and that meant that he would always be a part of my life. no matter what. There was supposed to be time to work things out. There was supposed to be a time - and it felt so close around the corner - when I would be in a place where my own life didn't keep me too exhausted to deal with his. Things were supposed to go back to normal - they were supposed to go back to the way they were before Sean lied - before King lied.
It isn't that I worry that he didn't understand. I'm sure he did. King, for all the people he knew, knew me well enough to understand all of the reasons I pulled away from him. He knew that my goal wasn't to get away from him, but only to keep my head above water - to get myself to a better place.
I think he knew I loved him.
I say that I think he knew it because things were never the same - things never got back to normal. Things never got back the way they were supposed to be - and it wasn't his fault, it was my choice. Some may have wanted a goodbye or one last conversation - all I wanted was to take back the one warning I ever gave him; don't touch me. It never had anything to do with him, but he respected it nonetheless. King wasn't handed the moniker "hoover" for no reason, and while I'm not eager to return to those days in any quick manner, two years ago I asked and I never rescinded the request.
There are few things I wouldn't give for one more hug.
1 Comments:
i understand. It was a hard night for all of us.
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