Keepin it real....
Today, March 19, 2006 would have been the 31st birthday of Chris Rehfield (I don't think I could ever spell his last name right). He and I first became friends of friends in the 7th grade. We had a mutual friend, Richard Lee, and the three of us were best buddies (at varying levels) through Junior high and High School. We were all from poor families (mine somehow the least poor) and we were all pretty nerdy. Nerdy is actually a gross understatement. We played Dungeons and Dragons together, and discovered computers together as well as our specific intellectual slants. Actually I don't remember Chris being billed as particularly smart (as in book smart) but he was clever with words and quite charismatic. Chris was an instigator and a negotiator. My friend Tyler reminds me alot of Chris which is probably why I let Tyler get me involved with so many of his mis-adventures. After Jr. High, Richard went to a different high school than Chris and I , although Chris and I knew each other, we were never that close. "Casual friends with common interests," is how I would define it.
That first week in high school (which started at 10th grade back then) we formed our primary clique' Chris, me, Ralph, Juan, Dave, Donald and Jason were the core members, joined occasionally by Richard and Gabe (who went to different schools) and the odd wandering nerd. Chris and I were, most definitely, best friends after that. We were both in band and we usually had crushes on the same girls. We still gamed alot and got involved in the usual teenage craziness together. Like the time we got Sergio's brother, Ricky, to drink some vinegar concoction that Chris invented and told him it was alcoholic. BLECH!
I was socially awkward then but I had some experience with popularity in Jr. High. I was smart and opinionated as a young punk rocker when I was 15 and many people seemed drawn to that for some reason. I dressed strangely and acted outrageous in a city (Miami) that frowned on the unconventional. At the time, I didn't really care what people thought. By the time 10th grade started, I had mellowed significantly. Richard and Chris, who remembered my outrageous behavior in 9th grade stuck with me through that change. But I had gone back into my shell somewhat. I never felt respected and people rarely took me seriously. Towards the end of 9th grade I felt kind of like a joke and by the time 10th grade started I had cut off my dreadlocks and threw away my trench coat. I stopped listening to GBH and Fear and started listening to The Pixies, The Sugarcubes and other stuff on 120 minutes which became my ritual source for musical manna. I was still opinionated but I had lost alot of the bravado and I often put my foot in my mouth trying to sound intellectual at 16.
Chris and I struggled with our maturity. We both sort of clung to our childhood selves and wanted to avoid the banality of being adults. We gamed, we joked, and we never talked about the future much. We never really looked forward to anything. neither of us were really certain what we wanted out of life and we preferred to keep it out of conversation. Neither of us thought much about college in our senior year. We both struggled with the impending doom of graduation and neither if us felt we could survive college and the real world. We were more interested in the hot new freshmen girls.
Chris and I talked about girls alot senior year. We were 17 year old boys and girls were this mystery to us and neither of us adjusted well to this sudden desire for their company. Chris was the first to lose his virginity and the first to have a girlfriend. He went through alot of girlfriends. Sometimes he'd have 2 or 3 at the same time. He had a charming innocence and he was good with words and had a handsome face. I had some blown chances early in high school and had pretty low self esteem come senior year. I had a terrible lack of confidence and I sometimes felt jealous of Chris' charm and promiscuity. I had all the tools to do as Chris did but I lacked something. I was dominated by fear of rejection. I feared humiliation.
Chris had alot of trouble at home. His mom was an alcoholic and I'm fairly certain he was at least verbally and physically abused by her and her myriad of boyfriends. I had suspected that he was also sexually abused by one or more parental figures. But this was mainly naive speculation based on his sexual habits as I was aware of them at the time. Chris was bi-sexual, as I came to find out through a mutual friend who came out of the closet himself. I wasn't phased by this and that seemed to surprise Chris and many other friends. Chris was the same to me. Who he slept with was not something I felt I should judge him over. I had other openly gay and bi-sexual friends and I felt no different about Chris. He was my best friend. He could have told me he was a necrophiliac and I would have accepted him. I would have made fun of him a little, sure, but would have accepted him.
Chris ran away from home on a few occasions. Some days he'd disappear from school for a week as he was in hiding at one of our friends' houses. Once I found him hiding out at a party I went to at our friend's place. Despite losing my virginity (to two girls!) a few months earlier I had been having some trouble with girls again and was feeling pretty down on myself. You'd think I would have gained a little confidence! This was the first time I heard Chris admit, out loud, that he was terrified of what would happen to us after graduation. He told me he had been staying with his 30 year old girlfriend from work for a little while. Things were going okay, then he totaled her car (I think he was driving drunk) and felt so horrible that he ran from her too. Just went back to the apartment, packed all his stuff and disappeared before she got back. He had been cheating on her with a girl from school anyhow and also fooling around with his ex-girlfriend from sophomore year. He felt stuck. He thought he was fucking things up left and right and couldn't do the right thing. The exact details of the conversation are fuzzy after 13 years but I remember how we consoled each other. He told me to not give up. All I needed was a little confidence and I'd be the hottest property around. I told him to stay strong. In a few weeks he would be 18 and he could get away from his family and live out his life on his own terms. I would help him clear up the mess and we'd help each other make the next step into the future and adulthood.
That was the last time I ever spoke to Chris Rehfield.
On March 12, 1993 he shot himself in the head with a large caliber handgun he found at a friends' house he'd stayed at that night. He was cremated as opposed to a closed casket, his face was unrecognizable from the wound. I showed up at school the next morning, late as usual. I didn't know what had happened. Mr Robin told me to go to the guidance office. I thought I had finally gotten in trouble for being late so much. I can't remember who told me what happened. Most of that day was lost to shock. I had lost my best friend. I felt nothing at first. I shook a little but I didn't cry. The faculty had pulled all of his friends from class and we were huddled up in the band room crying most of the day. I found his first girlfriend April sobbing in a hallway. She was hysterical. She demanded an explanation and I had nothing to offer her but consolation. His current high school girlfriend, Sabrina left school early and seemed to disappear from school altogether after that. I don't think I ever spoke to her again. I came back to the band room after I spent some time making sure everyone else was OK. A girl named Dharia who I had just talked to Chris about having "this huge crush on" came with some friends. She was there looking for me and when she opened her arms, I fell to pieces like a broken machine. It was the hardest I have ever cried.
That wound took some time to heal. It was like having a leg amputated. I felt crippled and weak. April and I bonded with our grief and dated briefly. My first girlfriend was also my dead best friend's ex-girlfriend. How gruesome is that? There was a wake that April hosted on Chris' birthday, March 19th, seven days later. All the people that were REALLY close to Chris were there. We had taken the chair that he killed himself in. It was covered in dried blood. We took the chair into her back yard and doused it with gasoline and burned it. Then we kicked it into the canal behind April's house. After that we got royally blitzed. We drank and laughed and let go. We celebrated his life and told anecdotes about Chris in the best of spirits.
The pain slowly subsided and I had almost forgotten about it when, exactly one year later, on March 19th 2004, I attempted suicide. I was having trouble with my girlfriend, Dharia (same as above). She broke up with me and was dating others and I was too stupid to accept it. She was my first love and I felt betrayed. I was a dumb young fool and I got this silly teenage, bullshit idea in my head that I'd take my revenge by taking my own life. I locked myself in my room late that night. I lit a candle and ate a bottle of Theo-Dur a toxic medication for asthma (I did my homework) and a bottle of prescription strength Benadryl to put me to sleep so I could die in my sleep. Of course, I pussied out and, half-awake and feeling rather ill, I called Dharia (I don't really remember why, I was stupid) and told her what I had done. In came the paramedics and I don't remember a whole lot after that. I remember getting my stomach pumped (It's impossible to forget) and I remember vomiting charcoal and saline into a bowl for the next 16 hours. When Dharia came to visit, she asked me if I knew what the date was and I didn't. I honestly had no idea I had tried to kill myself on Chris' birthday.
Ever since then, every March 19th for 12 years , I remember Chris, I remind myself of how important my life is to me. I've had ups and downs through the years but I never think about just giving up anymore. I'll accept failure before surrender. Don't any of you ever forget that! I may be down on myself sometimes or I may get frustrated with life but I'll keep on living. I haven't really shared that story in much detail since moving to Seattle and this little story has lived silently in the background of my life for a few years now. I've been feeling scared of life again recently and I felt I needed to get this memory refreshed again.
My butt is numb so I'm done.
That first week in high school (which started at 10th grade back then) we formed our primary clique' Chris, me, Ralph, Juan, Dave, Donald and Jason were the core members, joined occasionally by Richard and Gabe (who went to different schools) and the odd wandering nerd. Chris and I were, most definitely, best friends after that. We were both in band and we usually had crushes on the same girls. We still gamed alot and got involved in the usual teenage craziness together. Like the time we got Sergio's brother, Ricky, to drink some vinegar concoction that Chris invented and told him it was alcoholic. BLECH!
I was socially awkward then but I had some experience with popularity in Jr. High. I was smart and opinionated as a young punk rocker when I was 15 and many people seemed drawn to that for some reason. I dressed strangely and acted outrageous in a city (Miami) that frowned on the unconventional. At the time, I didn't really care what people thought. By the time 10th grade started, I had mellowed significantly. Richard and Chris, who remembered my outrageous behavior in 9th grade stuck with me through that change. But I had gone back into my shell somewhat. I never felt respected and people rarely took me seriously. Towards the end of 9th grade I felt kind of like a joke and by the time 10th grade started I had cut off my dreadlocks and threw away my trench coat. I stopped listening to GBH and Fear and started listening to The Pixies, The Sugarcubes and other stuff on 120 minutes which became my ritual source for musical manna. I was still opinionated but I had lost alot of the bravado and I often put my foot in my mouth trying to sound intellectual at 16.
Chris and I struggled with our maturity. We both sort of clung to our childhood selves and wanted to avoid the banality of being adults. We gamed, we joked, and we never talked about the future much. We never really looked forward to anything. neither of us were really certain what we wanted out of life and we preferred to keep it out of conversation. Neither of us thought much about college in our senior year. We both struggled with the impending doom of graduation and neither if us felt we could survive college and the real world. We were more interested in the hot new freshmen girls.
Chris and I talked about girls alot senior year. We were 17 year old boys and girls were this mystery to us and neither of us adjusted well to this sudden desire for their company. Chris was the first to lose his virginity and the first to have a girlfriend. He went through alot of girlfriends. Sometimes he'd have 2 or 3 at the same time. He had a charming innocence and he was good with words and had a handsome face. I had some blown chances early in high school and had pretty low self esteem come senior year. I had a terrible lack of confidence and I sometimes felt jealous of Chris' charm and promiscuity. I had all the tools to do as Chris did but I lacked something. I was dominated by fear of rejection. I feared humiliation.
Chris had alot of trouble at home. His mom was an alcoholic and I'm fairly certain he was at least verbally and physically abused by her and her myriad of boyfriends. I had suspected that he was also sexually abused by one or more parental figures. But this was mainly naive speculation based on his sexual habits as I was aware of them at the time. Chris was bi-sexual, as I came to find out through a mutual friend who came out of the closet himself. I wasn't phased by this and that seemed to surprise Chris and many other friends. Chris was the same to me. Who he slept with was not something I felt I should judge him over. I had other openly gay and bi-sexual friends and I felt no different about Chris. He was my best friend. He could have told me he was a necrophiliac and I would have accepted him. I would have made fun of him a little, sure, but would have accepted him.
Chris ran away from home on a few occasions. Some days he'd disappear from school for a week as he was in hiding at one of our friends' houses. Once I found him hiding out at a party I went to at our friend's place. Despite losing my virginity (to two girls!) a few months earlier I had been having some trouble with girls again and was feeling pretty down on myself. You'd think I would have gained a little confidence! This was the first time I heard Chris admit, out loud, that he was terrified of what would happen to us after graduation. He told me he had been staying with his 30 year old girlfriend from work for a little while. Things were going okay, then he totaled her car (I think he was driving drunk) and felt so horrible that he ran from her too. Just went back to the apartment, packed all his stuff and disappeared before she got back. He had been cheating on her with a girl from school anyhow and also fooling around with his ex-girlfriend from sophomore year. He felt stuck. He thought he was fucking things up left and right and couldn't do the right thing. The exact details of the conversation are fuzzy after 13 years but I remember how we consoled each other. He told me to not give up. All I needed was a little confidence and I'd be the hottest property around. I told him to stay strong. In a few weeks he would be 18 and he could get away from his family and live out his life on his own terms. I would help him clear up the mess and we'd help each other make the next step into the future and adulthood.
That was the last time I ever spoke to Chris Rehfield.
On March 12, 1993 he shot himself in the head with a large caliber handgun he found at a friends' house he'd stayed at that night. He was cremated as opposed to a closed casket, his face was unrecognizable from the wound. I showed up at school the next morning, late as usual. I didn't know what had happened. Mr Robin told me to go to the guidance office. I thought I had finally gotten in trouble for being late so much. I can't remember who told me what happened. Most of that day was lost to shock. I had lost my best friend. I felt nothing at first. I shook a little but I didn't cry. The faculty had pulled all of his friends from class and we were huddled up in the band room crying most of the day. I found his first girlfriend April sobbing in a hallway. She was hysterical. She demanded an explanation and I had nothing to offer her but consolation. His current high school girlfriend, Sabrina left school early and seemed to disappear from school altogether after that. I don't think I ever spoke to her again. I came back to the band room after I spent some time making sure everyone else was OK. A girl named Dharia who I had just talked to Chris about having "this huge crush on" came with some friends. She was there looking for me and when she opened her arms, I fell to pieces like a broken machine. It was the hardest I have ever cried.
That wound took some time to heal. It was like having a leg amputated. I felt crippled and weak. April and I bonded with our grief and dated briefly. My first girlfriend was also my dead best friend's ex-girlfriend. How gruesome is that? There was a wake that April hosted on Chris' birthday, March 19th, seven days later. All the people that were REALLY close to Chris were there. We had taken the chair that he killed himself in. It was covered in dried blood. We took the chair into her back yard and doused it with gasoline and burned it. Then we kicked it into the canal behind April's house. After that we got royally blitzed. We drank and laughed and let go. We celebrated his life and told anecdotes about Chris in the best of spirits.
The pain slowly subsided and I had almost forgotten about it when, exactly one year later, on March 19th 2004, I attempted suicide. I was having trouble with my girlfriend, Dharia (same as above). She broke up with me and was dating others and I was too stupid to accept it. She was my first love and I felt betrayed. I was a dumb young fool and I got this silly teenage, bullshit idea in my head that I'd take my revenge by taking my own life. I locked myself in my room late that night. I lit a candle and ate a bottle of Theo-Dur a toxic medication for asthma (I did my homework) and a bottle of prescription strength Benadryl to put me to sleep so I could die in my sleep. Of course, I pussied out and, half-awake and feeling rather ill, I called Dharia (I don't really remember why, I was stupid) and told her what I had done. In came the paramedics and I don't remember a whole lot after that. I remember getting my stomach pumped (It's impossible to forget) and I remember vomiting charcoal and saline into a bowl for the next 16 hours. When Dharia came to visit, she asked me if I knew what the date was and I didn't. I honestly had no idea I had tried to kill myself on Chris' birthday.
Ever since then, every March 19th for 12 years , I remember Chris, I remind myself of how important my life is to me. I've had ups and downs through the years but I never think about just giving up anymore. I'll accept failure before surrender. Don't any of you ever forget that! I may be down on myself sometimes or I may get frustrated with life but I'll keep on living. I haven't really shared that story in much detail since moving to Seattle and this little story has lived silently in the background of my life for a few years now. I've been feeling scared of life again recently and I felt I needed to get this memory refreshed again.
My butt is numb so I'm done.