a place to escape
Today is Joe's 30th birthday. Unfortunately he'll never see it. He passed away in May of 2006. I loved that man with everything I had, though I didn't realize how deeply my love ran for him. He was funny, easy to talk to, "bad" in his own way, and had such a cute boyish charm. I was good for him, though someone thought differently. He knew he could always turn to me when he needed someone to talk to and not be judged. I would listen to him for hours with out saying a word, and often times that's all he needed. I always helped him find the positive in any situation he found himself in. His rough times became easier because he knew I was there for him. I encouraged him to continue on his path to straighten out his life. And though he was enduring strict rules and restrictions from his family, he was able to do so.
But an outside factor (his mother) decided that I was all wrong for him. That I wasn't good enough. She made it impossible for him and I to talk. "Her house, her rules" kinda thing. Eventually the strain of trying to keep his mother happy and still stay sane took it's toll and on May 19, he passed away of a drug overdose. Joe has been only the second death in my life that has devastated me. I saw a lifetime with Joe, whether friends or more. I knew he was always going to be there. I found out later, after his mother apologized to me, that he just started giving up, getting back into trouble, and hanging around people who REALLY weren't good for him. His mother told me that she was wrong and that maybe I had been a positive influence in her sons life after-all.
It took me a good while to stop blaming her for the lose of Joe in my life. It took me even longer to accept that Joe wasn't going to be there anymore. And longer still to be able to visit his grave site. A piece of me was buried with him when he was layed to rest and my heart still hurts when I think of him. But the memories I carry with me, and the time we had together help me remember the positive. And knowing that he no longer struggles with some of the VERY difficult decisions life threw at him, and having the firm belief that, no matter where is now, he is healthy, happy, and strong. I will see him again, maybe not in this life time, but in the next.
Robert Joseph, I thank you. You left a permanent mark on my heart, and though the end is painful, the journey was worth it.
But an outside factor (his mother) decided that I was all wrong for him. That I wasn't good enough. She made it impossible for him and I to talk. "Her house, her rules" kinda thing. Eventually the strain of trying to keep his mother happy and still stay sane took it's toll and on May 19, he passed away of a drug overdose. Joe has been only the second death in my life that has devastated me. I saw a lifetime with Joe, whether friends or more. I knew he was always going to be there. I found out later, after his mother apologized to me, that he just started giving up, getting back into trouble, and hanging around people who REALLY weren't good for him. His mother told me that she was wrong and that maybe I had been a positive influence in her sons life after-all.
It took me a good while to stop blaming her for the lose of Joe in my life. It took me even longer to accept that Joe wasn't going to be there anymore. And longer still to be able to visit his grave site. A piece of me was buried with him when he was layed to rest and my heart still hurts when I think of him. But the memories I carry with me, and the time we had together help me remember the positive. And knowing that he no longer struggles with some of the VERY difficult decisions life threw at him, and having the firm belief that, no matter where is now, he is healthy, happy, and strong. I will see him again, maybe not in this life time, but in the next.
Robert Joseph, I thank you. You left a permanent mark on my heart, and though the end is painful, the journey was worth it.