The Best Mistake I Ever Made
*** Warning *** don't try this at home kids. This is a summary of the lowest point in my life thus far, so don't let it change your views on me we all have low points and the end results are all that matter. We all make mistakes, and a few shots of Crown and Valium do not mix. They effect your judgement more than you can imagine and my long list of sappy 80's pop love songs mixed with Avrils "Slipped Away" constantly playing in the background doesnt help either.
I used to be a gun nut, I would go pistol shooting every weekend with my friends, and we always had fun. I was so much involved that I purchased a shell reloader to make my own bullets for my Beretta 92FS. That’s a 9mm semi-automatic pistol for the non-shooters. I lived in Huntsville at the time and it was over 15 years ago. At one time I had over 3,000 rounds made up and would use them from time to time. Once I moved to Kentucky, I didn’t shoot as much and never used my reloader again. I just relied on my supply from years before. Since I have a concealed deadly weapons license I carry it everywhere I go, so never sneak up on me. I still have about 70 rounds left now and keep them secured in my gun safe.
Now fast forward to just a few weeks ago and I find myself in the midst of a divorce I never saw coming and don’t want. I have lost the greatest love of my life, my home, just to survive I will be forced to sell everything I own, and I have no job capable of supporting me. After hours of crying, begging God to spare me any more pain and distress, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I have had the Beretta and two clips loaded with rounds for years now. I wonder what will happen, and I don’t care, I just want it over. I grab the weapon and a clip and put them together. Now, in my grasp is the power to end the pain and suffering. I will just be done with it. Sitting on edge my bed, I pull the slide back, and chamber the round, a copper jacketed hollow point bullet poised and ready to fire. The hammer is cocked automatically when the slide is operated so now, the only thing between me and death is just a millimeter of movement from the trigger. The tiniest of movement is all that separates this life from the next. I eagerly await whatever is on the other side, as I can no longer bear the pain from my emotions. I place the barrel in my mouth and the taste of the gun oil instantly spreads throughout my mouth. Tears still rolling down my face and I close my eyes tighter than I ever have before so much so I begin to see odd patterns of light.
My last thoughts are two things I have said to her. The first, a tender moment after we had made love, years ago and she asked me “will you always love me?” My reply was simple “till the minute I die”. The second was my thought of our wedding vows “till death do us part”. That time was now. There was no way to avoid the inevitable. I had failed in some way that had caused this conclusion. My life was over the day she told me she wanted a divorce, everything good in my life died in that instant. I was merely a shell, a hollowed out core of the man that I once was. It was time for what was left of me to take its place beside what was, what could have been, but is now gone forever.
I bite down onto the metal so hard I feel a part of one of my bottom teeth chip, and my body sends out its final instruction, with my thumb on the trigger I put pressure on the trigger. As in the slowest motion I can comprehend, I hear the mechanism operate. They say your whole life flashes before your eyes just before you die and sadly I saw nothing. Click. I scream, recoiling backward and throwing the gun across the room all in one motion. I lay back and for a moment I wonder, is this what it is like to be dead.
The realization comes to me that I am not dead and now I am puzzled more than ever. I retrieve my pistol and slide the chamber again; the bullet that was my destiny is ejected onto the floor. I click on the safety and replace the weapon on my still open gun safe. As I pick up the round that will come to be known as my destiny, I examine it noting the percussion cap is dented, why didn’t the round go off? My mind races and I go to the garage and get a pair of pliers to remove the actual bullet from the casing. With some twisting and force the bonded pair separate, and gunpowder spills out all over the floor. Why? What could have possibly gone wrong? I take the two pieces into the house and lay them on the table. As I look and the casing I see there are two indentions on the percussion cap, one almost overlapping the other. For some reason over 15 years ago, out of thousands of rounds, I made one bullet without removing the used cap, and somehow that one round was first in one of the two clips I chose from to place in the gun that night. I would bet that best mathematicians would have problems calculating the odds of that happening.
As far as I was concerned my life was still over, I had emotionally died weeks before, but now I feel as though I am such a failure at everything I cant even take my own life when needed. A marriage is a terrible thing to fuck up but somehow as I laid in bed that night I began to realize that perhaps it wasn’t all my fault, and the more I think about it I feel less and less responsible. They say everything happens for a reason. Zyndril and I have been discussing Karma as of late, and I am beginning to feel that hard work will eventually pay off, but back to the story…
The next morning, I went back to the table and using a soldering iron and a small piece of copper wire I transformed my destiny bullet into a charm. I go to Jeannie’s jewelry box and get a small rope chain I had given her years before and place the charm on it. I have worn it everyday since, and will continue to wear it until the pain goes away. Also, as a reminder that even though she took everything from me when she left, I still have my life, and its mine. I will not let her take it…. I know the last words I will say to her after the house is sold and we part for the last time. It may sound petty and even far-fetched, but it feels like something that must be said. In my best, deepest Klingon style voice I just want to tell her, “ You are a coward, a liar, and you have no honor ”.
In any event, as I sit here adding to this story, I want my friends to know that this brush with the afterlife has given me a newfound drive and determination to be not only survive but to excel. I am still doing ok in school (Cisco Networking sux but I have an 89 average right now) still taking 17 hours this semester. I still am working 48 hours as an EMT and I got a new GREAT job. Two weeks ago I got a job as the new City Clerk for the City of LaCenter, Kentucky. I now work 80 to 88 hours a week plus school so I have been a busy critter. In fact, until June, I will not have another day off from work and school is still 4 days a week as well. It keeps me busy and I will no longer be worrying about how to make ends meet. Unfortunately, I will not be able to visit my friends in HSV until June, so don’t forget about me, and do me a favor, for each get-together you folks have, have a drink to your Friend in Kentucky who is thinking about you all. Miss you all and when I get my IT degree, I will be hitting you all up for help in finding a job and help getting a new life started… Can’t be there soon enough.
Respectfully,
Your Friend, Myrddin Emrys
“I Am The Furthest Man From Home”
I used to be a gun nut, I would go pistol shooting every weekend with my friends, and we always had fun. I was so much involved that I purchased a shell reloader to make my own bullets for my Beretta 92FS. That’s a 9mm semi-automatic pistol for the non-shooters. I lived in Huntsville at the time and it was over 15 years ago. At one time I had over 3,000 rounds made up and would use them from time to time. Once I moved to Kentucky, I didn’t shoot as much and never used my reloader again. I just relied on my supply from years before. Since I have a concealed deadly weapons license I carry it everywhere I go, so never sneak up on me. I still have about 70 rounds left now and keep them secured in my gun safe.
Now fast forward to just a few weeks ago and I find myself in the midst of a divorce I never saw coming and don’t want. I have lost the greatest love of my life, my home, just to survive I will be forced to sell everything I own, and I have no job capable of supporting me. After hours of crying, begging God to spare me any more pain and distress, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I have had the Beretta and two clips loaded with rounds for years now. I wonder what will happen, and I don’t care, I just want it over. I grab the weapon and a clip and put them together. Now, in my grasp is the power to end the pain and suffering. I will just be done with it. Sitting on edge my bed, I pull the slide back, and chamber the round, a copper jacketed hollow point bullet poised and ready to fire. The hammer is cocked automatically when the slide is operated so now, the only thing between me and death is just a millimeter of movement from the trigger. The tiniest of movement is all that separates this life from the next. I eagerly await whatever is on the other side, as I can no longer bear the pain from my emotions. I place the barrel in my mouth and the taste of the gun oil instantly spreads throughout my mouth. Tears still rolling down my face and I close my eyes tighter than I ever have before so much so I begin to see odd patterns of light.
My last thoughts are two things I have said to her. The first, a tender moment after we had made love, years ago and she asked me “will you always love me?” My reply was simple “till the minute I die”. The second was my thought of our wedding vows “till death do us part”. That time was now. There was no way to avoid the inevitable. I had failed in some way that had caused this conclusion. My life was over the day she told me she wanted a divorce, everything good in my life died in that instant. I was merely a shell, a hollowed out core of the man that I once was. It was time for what was left of me to take its place beside what was, what could have been, but is now gone forever.
I bite down onto the metal so hard I feel a part of one of my bottom teeth chip, and my body sends out its final instruction, with my thumb on the trigger I put pressure on the trigger. As in the slowest motion I can comprehend, I hear the mechanism operate. They say your whole life flashes before your eyes just before you die and sadly I saw nothing. Click. I scream, recoiling backward and throwing the gun across the room all in one motion. I lay back and for a moment I wonder, is this what it is like to be dead.
The realization comes to me that I am not dead and now I am puzzled more than ever. I retrieve my pistol and slide the chamber again; the bullet that was my destiny is ejected onto the floor. I click on the safety and replace the weapon on my still open gun safe. As I pick up the round that will come to be known as my destiny, I examine it noting the percussion cap is dented, why didn’t the round go off? My mind races and I go to the garage and get a pair of pliers to remove the actual bullet from the casing. With some twisting and force the bonded pair separate, and gunpowder spills out all over the floor. Why? What could have possibly gone wrong? I take the two pieces into the house and lay them on the table. As I look and the casing I see there are two indentions on the percussion cap, one almost overlapping the other. For some reason over 15 years ago, out of thousands of rounds, I made one bullet without removing the used cap, and somehow that one round was first in one of the two clips I chose from to place in the gun that night. I would bet that best mathematicians would have problems calculating the odds of that happening.
As far as I was concerned my life was still over, I had emotionally died weeks before, but now I feel as though I am such a failure at everything I cant even take my own life when needed. A marriage is a terrible thing to fuck up but somehow as I laid in bed that night I began to realize that perhaps it wasn’t all my fault, and the more I think about it I feel less and less responsible. They say everything happens for a reason. Zyndril and I have been discussing Karma as of late, and I am beginning to feel that hard work will eventually pay off, but back to the story…
The next morning, I went back to the table and using a soldering iron and a small piece of copper wire I transformed my destiny bullet into a charm. I go to Jeannie’s jewelry box and get a small rope chain I had given her years before and place the charm on it. I have worn it everyday since, and will continue to wear it until the pain goes away. Also, as a reminder that even though she took everything from me when she left, I still have my life, and its mine. I will not let her take it…. I know the last words I will say to her after the house is sold and we part for the last time. It may sound petty and even far-fetched, but it feels like something that must be said. In my best, deepest Klingon style voice I just want to tell her, “ You are a coward, a liar, and you have no honor ”.
In any event, as I sit here adding to this story, I want my friends to know that this brush with the afterlife has given me a newfound drive and determination to be not only survive but to excel. I am still doing ok in school (Cisco Networking sux but I have an 89 average right now) still taking 17 hours this semester. I still am working 48 hours as an EMT and I got a new GREAT job. Two weeks ago I got a job as the new City Clerk for the City of LaCenter, Kentucky. I now work 80 to 88 hours a week plus school so I have been a busy critter. In fact, until June, I will not have another day off from work and school is still 4 days a week as well. It keeps me busy and I will no longer be worrying about how to make ends meet. Unfortunately, I will not be able to visit my friends in HSV until June, so don’t forget about me, and do me a favor, for each get-together you folks have, have a drink to your Friend in Kentucky who is thinking about you all. Miss you all and when I get my IT degree, I will be hitting you all up for help in finding a job and help getting a new life started… Can’t be there soon enough.
Respectfully,
Your Friend, Myrddin Emrys
“I Am The Furthest Man From Home”