Monday, April 28, 2008

Tribute to an Asshole

Archives. Archives of this blog in reference to C.R. I really don't know what to say right now. I am truly befuddled. I don't understand. I don't understand why or how he did it. I don't understand why God is taking all these people away from me. I don't understand why some people have to die so young, and why some people want to die so young. I don't understand why this occurrence is affecting me so much after what he did to me, both while we were dating, and while we were friends. Maybe it's because B.L. told me that it's because he was drinking and smoking pot too much, and that M.T. is headed down the same road, because the only time you drink and smoke pot is when you want to forget something (which, by the way, isn't true. People do those things for many reasons.. wanting to forget is only one of them). We all knew about how he got out of the Marines: as K.H. likes to put it "We saw his discharge papers. The Marines knew his suicide attempt was fake. They knew he was full of shit." Bet they didn't know he was bipolar. Bet they didn't know he had a kid. Bet they didn't know that the attempt was serious, that he needed a lot of psychiatric help that he couldn't afford because he spent all his money on drugs and alcohol, and that the next time he tried, he would succeed. He needed hospitalization. He needed friends, and I just blew him off because of the way he acted towards my later boyfriends. The way he treated me wasn't enough to make me stop talking to him. No, it had to be poor treatment of someone I knew, someone who was close to me, someone I loved, for me to stop giving him chances. I don't understand. He had so many friends (or so it seemed) who were there for him when things got tough, even if I wasn't one of them. I don't understand how none of them could see what was going on, and stop him from doing it, or at least call the fucking suicide hotline. People aren't supposed to die when they're 20. They aren't supposed to die when they're 17. They aren't supposed to die when they're 56. People die when they're old, when they're in their 80's or 90's. It's like a moving snapshot. When someone disappears, the things they had affected in the shot stay the same. You know that person was there, you can see it in the pictures she pinned to the walls in her room, or the little baby boy he fathered. Nothing changes. They just disappear. And what you see in the picture is what was behind them. The background.