There but for the Grace of God...
I thought he was drunk. There was something about him. His big brown eyes. I Didn’t know him. Didn’t recognize him. But there was something about him. Young. Maybe 30’s. It’s hard to tell. Drugs make the young look old.
Chris. That’s my name. Well. Not really he said through gritted teeth. I shorten it all the time. Dark hair. Chubby face. Italian I think. The last name always gives us away. Nice. But something is wrong. Terribly wrong. I think he’s drunk. But he’s not.
We talked for a little bit. I was looking at him. He was looking at me but mostly at the floor. Used to make lots of money. Or so he said. Used to have a girl friend. Nice car. Nice apartment. But not anymore. All thanks to Wall Street he said. I don’t know. That’s when it started.
I don’t like Doctors or lawyers. He said while he raised his voice and hand. Dentists. He likes dentists. Why? I like pain. He said. I like pain in my mouth. What do I say? There’s nothing to say.
I stared. I wondered. I tried not to stare. I wanted to stare. I couldn’t. It’s so rude. But I wanted to. There is something wrong. Terribly wrong. I think he’s drunk. But he’s not.
Time stood still. At least it seemed that way. Questions and answers. That’s what it’s all about.
Chris was getting upset. Ringing in his ears he said. Ringing in his ears. I wish I could give it to him. Chris said to me pointing to a man. I wish I could give this to him so that he knew the pain. No one knows the pain. He’d know the pain if I could give it to him.
They would empathize with you then? I wanted to know. Yes. He said. They would. I’d take it back, you know. He said as he smirked. I’m not an asshole. I’m crazy as a fuck. But I’m not an asshole. But he likes pain in his mouth.
What is it? I had to know. Two days later I had to know. Major Depression my supervisor said. He suffers from major depression. But I thought he was drunk. There’s still something terribly wrong. The DSM knows all. But it doesn’t seem to know Chris. Not at all. Maybe #5 will know.
Ringing in his ears. Constant. Deafening he said. Speed. Special K. Heroin. Crack. Cocaine. Amp’s. THC. Vicodin. He had it all. Tried it all. Didn’t make the ringing stop. He likes pain. Pain in his mouth. He didn’t go to detox his unhappy case manager reported. No one seemed to know what happened to Chris with the big brown eyes.
I Don’t know if I’ll see him again. Chris. Maybe at the clinic. On the news. Or in the newspaper. I do still see him though. For now. If only in my minds eye. Dark hair. Big hands. Big brown eyes.
I want to help. I want to stare. I want to figure it all out. Fix it. Change it. Hand it back to them. But that’s not life. That’s not how it works. Chris has to want to change. That’s what they say. He has to want to get better. Chris with the ringing in his ears. I want to get better. That’s what he said just before he left. I do. I want to. But it hurts.
Why Chris? Why not me? There but for the grace of God go I. Isn’t that how it’s said. But he has to help himself. He has to help himself. Isn’t that God walking before me? Isn’t that me? No. It’s Chris. Chris with the big brown eyes.
Chris. That’s my name. Well. Not really he said through gritted teeth. I shorten it all the time. Dark hair. Chubby face. Italian I think. The last name always gives us away. Nice. But something is wrong. Terribly wrong. I think he’s drunk. But he’s not.
We talked for a little bit. I was looking at him. He was looking at me but mostly at the floor. Used to make lots of money. Or so he said. Used to have a girl friend. Nice car. Nice apartment. But not anymore. All thanks to Wall Street he said. I don’t know. That’s when it started.
I don’t like Doctors or lawyers. He said while he raised his voice and hand. Dentists. He likes dentists. Why? I like pain. He said. I like pain in my mouth. What do I say? There’s nothing to say.
I stared. I wondered. I tried not to stare. I wanted to stare. I couldn’t. It’s so rude. But I wanted to. There is something wrong. Terribly wrong. I think he’s drunk. But he’s not.
Time stood still. At least it seemed that way. Questions and answers. That’s what it’s all about.
Chris was getting upset. Ringing in his ears he said. Ringing in his ears. I wish I could give it to him. Chris said to me pointing to a man. I wish I could give this to him so that he knew the pain. No one knows the pain. He’d know the pain if I could give it to him.
They would empathize with you then? I wanted to know. Yes. He said. They would. I’d take it back, you know. He said as he smirked. I’m not an asshole. I’m crazy as a fuck. But I’m not an asshole. But he likes pain in his mouth.
What is it? I had to know. Two days later I had to know. Major Depression my supervisor said. He suffers from major depression. But I thought he was drunk. There’s still something terribly wrong. The DSM knows all. But it doesn’t seem to know Chris. Not at all. Maybe #5 will know.
Ringing in his ears. Constant. Deafening he said. Speed. Special K. Heroin. Crack. Cocaine. Amp’s. THC. Vicodin. He had it all. Tried it all. Didn’t make the ringing stop. He likes pain. Pain in his mouth. He didn’t go to detox his unhappy case manager reported. No one seemed to know what happened to Chris with the big brown eyes.
I Don’t know if I’ll see him again. Chris. Maybe at the clinic. On the news. Or in the newspaper. I do still see him though. For now. If only in my minds eye. Dark hair. Big hands. Big brown eyes.
I want to help. I want to stare. I want to figure it all out. Fix it. Change it. Hand it back to them. But that’s not life. That’s not how it works. Chris has to want to change. That’s what they say. He has to want to get better. Chris with the ringing in his ears. I want to get better. That’s what he said just before he left. I do. I want to. But it hurts.
Why Chris? Why not me? There but for the grace of God go I. Isn’t that how it’s said. But he has to help himself. He has to help himself. Isn’t that God walking before me? Isn’t that me? No. It’s Chris. Chris with the big brown eyes.
posted by Mike at 7:21 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home