(no subject)
I watched Greg shoot himself in the head.
Greg was a man I knew a years ago. An alcoholic, gruff man. I honestly thought he was just a haggard twenty six but was apparently in his thirties. He fought in the first Gulf War, and was around 34 when I first met him. I'm apparently terrible with ages, though I don't think anyone would called me a good judge of anything. I never understood why we hung out in his apartment, but apparently his Captain was Leanne's uncle, and her uncle was leasing out the condo to him. He said he spent time after the first Gulf War as a mercenary. He told me about a lot of unsavory things, and his life afterword dealing with PTSD. That's why he started drinking. He distanced himself from his family, missing his fathers funeral and his sister's wedding and the birth of his nieces and nephews. He didn't reconcile with his mother until last December when he slumped me out of my house and depression to go with him. It was the first time i'd seen him in four years. I thought he was dead. The last time I saw him, he refused to go to Leanne's funeral and when I came back Mel said he was gone and wouldn't explain. I thought she meant he was dead. She said she didn't know. Every few months I would email him, just in case, in some desperate hope he was still alive and kicking.
He eventually responded to me in january of 2011, surprised I was still trying. I guess it was more habit then anything else. I'd given him up as gone, and counted him among my friends who'd passed away. Who I can't get over, or let go. Around June he made plans to see me in December, and I was so excited. I told everyone, I wanted all my friends to meet him. It didn't really matter to me he would probably be shit faced, I just wanted to share this with everyone I knew. I saw him when we went to his mothers, and he said he'd get back to me about meeting my friends but he disappeared again. I wasn't that upset, dealing with everything that happened in December. I didn't have a hard date on it, it was just something that i talked about a few months prior and honestly, I was wasting my time on a girl I couldn't get, and dealing with things I can't get over or let go. I wasn't sleeping, I was barely eating.
He emailed me once or twice, we talked over skype once or twice. When I saw him on thursday I was excited. He said he hoped to see me, and wanted to tell me some stuff. He told me about him. I didn't say anything for about fourty minutes while he told me his life story. He was engaged at one point to a woman named Jennifer. She got pregnant, and she miscarried and their relationship broke apart. She was an investment banker in new york. He told me about his dog when he was a kid, Yeller, 'cause Old Yeller was one of his favorite movies. He'd turn it off before Yeller had to be shot. His best friend was a man named George who was in his unit. He died in the Gulf War. He traveled all over, and could speak five languages which was impressive. Before he joined the army he was working on becoming a math teacher. He said he regretted not visiting places for leisure, and all of his time spent as a hired gun. It sounded surreal to hear, like I was talking to a retired war veteran in some 90s action film. He regretted not learning to ride a horse. He was really into Rodeo. He regretted not making it work with Jennifer. He spent the past year apparently making amends to people, traveling all over.
He talked to me about my friends now. I relayed my issues with the past few months, from Gram's Dementia forward. He told me I needed to unwind and stop being so serious. He told me he used to hate me, because I reminded him of an abused dog. He said no matter how terribly people treated me, I always came back. I was a little indignant, no one wants to be told that but it sounds accurate honestly. He told me I should, and to stop letting my friends walk around on me. I told him I didn't think they were, and he told me to stop rationalizing their behavior so I am wrong. He laid into me for a few minutes in what seemed like frustration. I let him do his rant. He told me more about what he'd been doing the past few years. He said what sealed it for him was the last thing he was hired to do in a shitty part of Africa. It was about a year ago, he shot some people from this small town. He got into an argument with a young man he couldn't understand. He said he understood the tone though, the indignation and the fervor. The young man was trying to get him to leave some people alone, and it reminded him of me anything I railed on him for being a cunt. He shot the man. After that job he quit picking up work like that and came back to the states. I didn't really know what to say to that. I just kind of uhh'd.
He told me it was fine. He knew he wasn't a good man. He'd heard his share of morality speechs from me, or from his ex. He didn't need me to be a conscience to him. His mother raised him Catholic. He believed very much in heaven, and in hell. He said he knew he was going to hell after his first operation in the Gulf War. He told me he better not see me there. He told me I needed to get my shit together, and start cracking the whip. He expects me to be a good man, and knows I wont disappoint him. He demands I get my shit together. Then he gets up and starts to walk away from the camera. I hear a gunshot and he falls to the ground in front of his computer. There is blood everywhere, i hear the gun thunk on the ground and I out. I call 911, I immediately drove to the police station. I give them his address in maine, and i wait for someone to find him.
I go home. No ones home. I leave, drive to the mall. Walk around, just to be around other people. I see Kuznoff, i tell him what happened. He tells me that sucks. He's at work and can't talk, so i walk around a little more, then I go home. No ones home. I stare at a bottle of whiskey for an hour ignoring my phone. At the mall I was physically shaking. I just want to cry but I can't summon the tears. I want to drink but I wont let myself. I want to do something drastic but I know Caitlin and Mande would never forgive me. I put on classical music and I just stare at the bottle. I don't know what to think, I don't know what to feel. All I have is this helplessness. Kyle texts me and tells me Kuznoff wants to see me after i get out of work. I ignore it. Caitlin messages me going WHERE AAAAARRREEE YOOOUUU and I ignore it. I ignore everyone. I'm stuck in a place where I want someone to tell its going to be okay, and give me a hug, but I don't know who to talk to. I don't think anyone cares about this shit. I'm only met with bitterness when I try to talk about these people, and when I am upset i'm used to being told I'm whining. I don't want to upset the few people I do have.
Friday I go into work and i'm angry and hurt and I kick the freezer door out of anger and leave a dent. Not a big one, but enough of one to say it happened. Pedro sends me home after I explain what happened. Kuznoff texted me telling me to tell him when I got out of work, so I did and then I didn't hear anything from him. So I just sat down on my couch. For hours. I didn't do anything. I stared at a bottle for a long time. From that point forward i feel sluggish, and burdensome to those around me. All I can think about, once Caitlin and Mande arrive is all the times i've been told to stop moping, stop being so fucking sad. i wanted to see them, but when they got there I didn't want them there because I didn't want to be that guy bringing everyone down. I didn't want to be the stop moping guy, and make everyone angry. We go to mande's and i am feeling okay. Then I feel like i'm going to burst into tears so I go outside to sit in my car. I left my keys inside. So I just sat on the grass until the feeling faded. I heard the laughs and fun coming from inside when I went to go back in and I couldn't bring myself to open the door. No one is there to watch me be a sad sack of shit, and make everything awkward and uncomfortable. I don't want anyone to resent me for it. So I sat outside, and thought about Greg, and everything he said.
i feel like shit, i fight with caitlin the next morning. i freak out for hours afraid I fucked up the worst thing time. I just can't seem to pull myself together. when it's quite, and i start to fall asleep i hear a gunshot. It is startling. I tried to talk to andy a little bit, not about anything that happened. I haven't heard from them since tuesday. Andy rescued a baby bunny, which i thought was nice. Now I can't sleep, and i'm sweating my ass off. I told John Spillman not to count on me for DnD tomorrow night, and to tell Cari not to hate me for having to miss it. I hung out with my cousin for a few hours. I met a guy named Darnell that wanted advice about his competitive pokemon game team at a Dunkin Donuts. I can't sleep now. It's haunting, and my brain wont turn off. I hate myself, I miss my friend, even if he was apparently some kind murderman. I miss all my friends, my living friends. I don't want to be around them though. It feels like every time something happens to me it makes the people around me resent me more. Probably because I have shitty coping ability. I'm going to turn on the AC, and hope I can sleep.
Greg was a man I knew a years ago. An alcoholic, gruff man. I honestly thought he was just a haggard twenty six but was apparently in his thirties. He fought in the first Gulf War, and was around 34 when I first met him. I'm apparently terrible with ages, though I don't think anyone would called me a good judge of anything. I never understood why we hung out in his apartment, but apparently his Captain was Leanne's uncle, and her uncle was leasing out the condo to him. He said he spent time after the first Gulf War as a mercenary. He told me about a lot of unsavory things, and his life afterword dealing with PTSD. That's why he started drinking. He distanced himself from his family, missing his fathers funeral and his sister's wedding and the birth of his nieces and nephews. He didn't reconcile with his mother until last December when he slumped me out of my house and depression to go with him. It was the first time i'd seen him in four years. I thought he was dead. The last time I saw him, he refused to go to Leanne's funeral and when I came back Mel said he was gone and wouldn't explain. I thought she meant he was dead. She said she didn't know. Every few months I would email him, just in case, in some desperate hope he was still alive and kicking.
He eventually responded to me in january of 2011, surprised I was still trying. I guess it was more habit then anything else. I'd given him up as gone, and counted him among my friends who'd passed away. Who I can't get over, or let go. Around June he made plans to see me in December, and I was so excited. I told everyone, I wanted all my friends to meet him. It didn't really matter to me he would probably be shit faced, I just wanted to share this with everyone I knew. I saw him when we went to his mothers, and he said he'd get back to me about meeting my friends but he disappeared again. I wasn't that upset, dealing with everything that happened in December. I didn't have a hard date on it, it was just something that i talked about a few months prior and honestly, I was wasting my time on a girl I couldn't get, and dealing with things I can't get over or let go. I wasn't sleeping, I was barely eating.
He emailed me once or twice, we talked over skype once or twice. When I saw him on thursday I was excited. He said he hoped to see me, and wanted to tell me some stuff. He told me about him. I didn't say anything for about fourty minutes while he told me his life story. He was engaged at one point to a woman named Jennifer. She got pregnant, and she miscarried and their relationship broke apart. She was an investment banker in new york. He told me about his dog when he was a kid, Yeller, 'cause Old Yeller was one of his favorite movies. He'd turn it off before Yeller had to be shot. His best friend was a man named George who was in his unit. He died in the Gulf War. He traveled all over, and could speak five languages which was impressive. Before he joined the army he was working on becoming a math teacher. He said he regretted not visiting places for leisure, and all of his time spent as a hired gun. It sounded surreal to hear, like I was talking to a retired war veteran in some 90s action film. He regretted not learning to ride a horse. He was really into Rodeo. He regretted not making it work with Jennifer. He spent the past year apparently making amends to people, traveling all over.
He talked to me about my friends now. I relayed my issues with the past few months, from Gram's Dementia forward. He told me I needed to unwind and stop being so serious. He told me he used to hate me, because I reminded him of an abused dog. He said no matter how terribly people treated me, I always came back. I was a little indignant, no one wants to be told that but it sounds accurate honestly. He told me I should, and to stop letting my friends walk around on me. I told him I didn't think they were, and he told me to stop rationalizing their behavior so I am wrong. He laid into me for a few minutes in what seemed like frustration. I let him do his rant. He told me more about what he'd been doing the past few years. He said what sealed it for him was the last thing he was hired to do in a shitty part of Africa. It was about a year ago, he shot some people from this small town. He got into an argument with a young man he couldn't understand. He said he understood the tone though, the indignation and the fervor. The young man was trying to get him to leave some people alone, and it reminded him of me anything I railed on him for being a cunt. He shot the man. After that job he quit picking up work like that and came back to the states. I didn't really know what to say to that. I just kind of uhh'd.
He told me it was fine. He knew he wasn't a good man. He'd heard his share of morality speechs from me, or from his ex. He didn't need me to be a conscience to him. His mother raised him Catholic. He believed very much in heaven, and in hell. He said he knew he was going to hell after his first operation in the Gulf War. He told me he better not see me there. He told me I needed to get my shit together, and start cracking the whip. He expects me to be a good man, and knows I wont disappoint him. He demands I get my shit together. Then he gets up and starts to walk away from the camera. I hear a gunshot and he falls to the ground in front of his computer. There is blood everywhere, i hear the gun thunk on the ground and I out. I call 911, I immediately drove to the police station. I give them his address in maine, and i wait for someone to find him.
I go home. No ones home. I leave, drive to the mall. Walk around, just to be around other people. I see Kuznoff, i tell him what happened. He tells me that sucks. He's at work and can't talk, so i walk around a little more, then I go home. No ones home. I stare at a bottle of whiskey for an hour ignoring my phone. At the mall I was physically shaking. I just want to cry but I can't summon the tears. I want to drink but I wont let myself. I want to do something drastic but I know Caitlin and Mande would never forgive me. I put on classical music and I just stare at the bottle. I don't know what to think, I don't know what to feel. All I have is this helplessness. Kyle texts me and tells me Kuznoff wants to see me after i get out of work. I ignore it. Caitlin messages me going WHERE AAAAARRREEE YOOOUUU and I ignore it. I ignore everyone. I'm stuck in a place where I want someone to tell its going to be okay, and give me a hug, but I don't know who to talk to. I don't think anyone cares about this shit. I'm only met with bitterness when I try to talk about these people, and when I am upset i'm used to being told I'm whining. I don't want to upset the few people I do have.
Friday I go into work and i'm angry and hurt and I kick the freezer door out of anger and leave a dent. Not a big one, but enough of one to say it happened. Pedro sends me home after I explain what happened. Kuznoff texted me telling me to tell him when I got out of work, so I did and then I didn't hear anything from him. So I just sat down on my couch. For hours. I didn't do anything. I stared at a bottle for a long time. From that point forward i feel sluggish, and burdensome to those around me. All I can think about, once Caitlin and Mande arrive is all the times i've been told to stop moping, stop being so fucking sad. i wanted to see them, but when they got there I didn't want them there because I didn't want to be that guy bringing everyone down. I didn't want to be the stop moping guy, and make everyone angry. We go to mande's and i am feeling okay. Then I feel like i'm going to burst into tears so I go outside to sit in my car. I left my keys inside. So I just sat on the grass until the feeling faded. I heard the laughs and fun coming from inside when I went to go back in and I couldn't bring myself to open the door. No one is there to watch me be a sad sack of shit, and make everything awkward and uncomfortable. I don't want anyone to resent me for it. So I sat outside, and thought about Greg, and everything he said.
i feel like shit, i fight with caitlin the next morning. i freak out for hours afraid I fucked up the worst thing time. I just can't seem to pull myself together. when it's quite, and i start to fall asleep i hear a gunshot. It is startling. I tried to talk to andy a little bit, not about anything that happened. I haven't heard from them since tuesday. Andy rescued a baby bunny, which i thought was nice. Now I can't sleep, and i'm sweating my ass off. I told John Spillman not to count on me for DnD tomorrow night, and to tell Cari not to hate me for having to miss it. I hung out with my cousin for a few hours. I met a guy named Darnell that wanted advice about his competitive pokemon game team at a Dunkin Donuts. I can't sleep now. It's haunting, and my brain wont turn off. I hate myself, I miss my friend, even if he was apparently some kind murderman. I miss all my friends, my living friends. I don't want to be around them though. It feels like every time something happens to me it makes the people around me resent me more. Probably because I have shitty coping ability. I'm going to turn on the AC, and hope I can sleep.