A Tragedy in Five Acts

I was sitting here feeling bad for poor {D} and what he has been through and this meme showed up.

The Rise and Fall

I was just wondering what to write about tonight. The Greek tragedy of the story of {D} — his quick rise to greatness in Florida and sudden fall, then rise again in Vermont, then EB5, then rise again in Nevada, then sexual assault allegations? Perhaps he has risen yet again from embarrassment and failure like the Phoenix.

He has always been able to jump through the hoops of fire and always lands on his feet. We used to joke he lands on his feet, I land on my head. Seriously, if I did half what that man has done, I would have been in prison decades ago — and that’s just the shit he told me. I still want to know what the hell happened in Florida.

The Protector

{D} is actually tragic in a way. I always felt the need to protect him. The protection was not for those coming in from the outside but from who and what he was on the inside.

I had the instinct to protect him from him. 

I really don’t mean him any harm. I do a little, and I feel guilty about that shit — it’s like I want to watch it burn, but I feel horrible for being the one to strike the match. But this, again, was his ultimate decision. He chose what his actions were going to be that night. I had no say in it, try though I might have. He did it to himself, so why do I feel so damn guilty about it?

The Reckoning

Half my brain is saying he should be in prison currently, and he should be thanking the sweet motherfucking baby Jesus he isn’t in prison. The other half wants to wish him well. It’s a weird place to be.

I find the balance in this in getting him the help he really needs and has needed for decades. Someone should have not protected him and helped him. Everyone, myself included, has a role in the enabling of his addiction and behavior.

I feel like I’m the first to wield the actual power to force him to stop hiding and face the demons. I don’t think anyone could ever reason with him to stop — it has to be sheer force.

Maybe that is why all of this happened. It was destined and fated that he would hurt me so I would help him and we’d both become better than we ever would have been. Or that’s total bullshit — it happened because he is a drunk, a psychopath, and I’m not on the traditional side of the sane and normal line. Who fucking knows.

I still want something good to come from something bad, and this was fucking bad, so that better be some good fucking shit coming from it.

I’m sure as hell not there yet. Neither is he.

Maybe we will both get there.

The Difference

I don’t know why I just thought of this story, but this is the difference between me and {D}.

We are at a red light — he is in front of me in his shiny (albeit used) Mercedes and I am behind him in my filthy little Toyota CHR. The cops have the homeless guy who worked that median strip off to the side and they’re busting him for whatever.

{D} texts me and says, “There they go hassling the homeless again!”

I rolled down my window and waited for the cop to get out of his car, and as soon as he did, I yelled, “LEAVE HIM ALONE! HE ISN’T HURTING ANYONE!”

The Moral

I am currently going up and down emotionally writing this. Stream of consciousness is my forte — or chaos and mood swings, depending on how you wish to look at it. 

I don’t deserve what happened to me. And {D} is a fucking pick for doing it. But I was strong enough to take it.

He talks a big game. He’ll make you believe he most powerful, strong, and tough man in the world, but it’s all false. He is the one who sits in his car and espouses concern for someone he’s never worn the shoes of. I yell because I have been there.

I end with these screenshots of the theoretical wrestling match: who is tougher?? — the one who took the beating and got the fuck up and fought although I was a little late and I fight stupid, or the fucking little bitch who hides from problems he caused?

He was never fucking tougher than me. I always had the power, and his pathetic, weak-minded ass coveted that power so much. And I almost let him take it from me.

Fuck that.