22 and invincible
are we human?
or are we dancers?
are we of our own free will?
or are we taking part in a carefully, delicately designed coreography?
i dont know right now.
i do.
but i have no clue....
andrew is dead.
a week ago he was alive.
he is dead. DEAD.
he was so alive. every time i have ever seen him.
and now his body lays cold in the warm, moist ground.
is this all just a small part in a scene in this act of the play? a dance?
was his overdose his swan song?
ill never know.
and for the rest of my life i will be left here to wonder such things.
im nowhere near a relapse-let alone an overdose...
but he could easily be me and i him...
a very large chunk of me holds me to blame...
"how can that be?" asks my rational side...
"you only saw him on a monthly or bi-monthly basis. you never really knew what he was going through." is what that part of me says...
but then this grieving part says, "you saw him at drug court. you knew there was a problem. you saw him downtown going overboard. you saw him the night you got out of jail-coincidentally at a 7 eleven-and you never thought anything??"
that part also scolds me for not delving deeper when i did see him at drug court let alone downtown mid-morning or at 7 eleven so late at night...
i mean..i kno the blame part of my side is really reaching but...i dont see a reason why a 22 year old kid should ever have to overdose. accidentally or not. its just not right.
a part of me is curious as to why him and not me...it could easily have been me dozens of times. every time i picked up that can...or finished that can and moved on to the next and the next.
i was surprised myself sometimes when i actually came to. i thought id died. that i should have died.
not a thing i can do.
i didnt even go to the funeral. i used my mind to conveniently push it away...
the only people i told dont understand.
god, his family...his birthday is today...right now...
andrew,
you are the star of a lot of fond memories of the terrible high school. i will never forget you. and im sorry i didnt look hard enough or reach out far enough. we could have helped each other. or at least had some fun together...whatever the reason you had to pick up and whatever the reason you felt the need to numb...im sorry. and its ok. we all love you and i just wish you really knew that. i have to say...i loved you..for just who you are...were. im just sorry i couldnt help you. and i wish i would have opened that doorway...i hope and believe that you can rest now. i think you deserve a rest. im sorry man...
your friend,
jordan