Life Switch

It's been nine years since he left.  You would think by now, I would be over it; moved on, forgot his name or shrugged it off with some cliche.

I go days, weeks and months without a single thought of him.  Without fail, something happens, something is said, a song or something redirects my thoughts towards him.

I have these thoughts like if he had stayed around he would have found what he was looking for.  Like now, he would be married with a kid or two. He'd probably be speaking to kids about the dangers of drinking.  He undoubtedly would be changing someone's world.

It's times like now I wish we could rewind and change places.  I wish God made deals; you take my life, you save his or you make her happy, you strike me with despair or maybe something as simple as cancer.  Give it to me in exchange for someone's remission.


Little deals like this would make certain no one lives in vain.


There's a lot of "ifs" when I think about him.  What if I told him he could save the world.  What if I had hugged him even though I know it would have resulted in a punch.  What if I showed up more often.  What if I shared a drink with him.  What if I would have intervened.  What if I had prayed.  What if I had made a deal with God.


I think it says a lot about him that, nine years later, he is still missed and loved.

He got really fat at the end.  A man obsessed with working out started to pack on a lot of weight.  It was a subtle way of surrendering, I suppose.

I think about these survival instincts we are given.  Then, I think about those events or circumstances that cause us to give up.  The battle between our bodies and our wills.  Sometimes, I wish we all had a life switch.  Maybe, if we turned it off in those tough moments, others would notice or care a little more.  Or maybe, it would help us recapture perspective and our passions.

Maybe, if we allowed one person other than ourselves to have the ability to turn off this life switch, it could save a life.  Like if he had given me the power, I could have turned it off that night before he left.  Maybe, Sunday would have been a good day.

I thought about him the day I fell in love.  He was the one person; the only person I wanted to gloat to.  He wouldn't have cared.  He probably would have asked if she was hot.  But I would have known that was his way of being happy for me.  He communicated things in his own language.


He prided himself in being tough and for being a fighter.  It was why I had him on a high pedestal.  Everything changed when he left.


I never considered myself a fighter.  But I know better now.

It seems those who consider themselves fighters tend to give up quicker than those of us who find ourselves a little more cowardly.

Maybe, he knew about a life switch.  Maybe, this was one time, he chose not to turn it back on.

I will have to ask him when I see him.