tw: suicide
I knew a David in high school. Everyone called him Lil D; an irony. He was tender and sad. His dad hated himself and beat up on Lil D regularly, leaving him with a black eye or busted lip to wear around. They shared a two bedroom apartment in a small, retro building with seven other units. On Mondays, I’d hear rumors that he’d hit some other kid at a party over the weekend. He almost always fought in defense of somebody or because of a loyalty he couldn’t forsake. I remember the stale smell of cigarettes smoked indoors on his zip-up hoodies. His stories matched up with what the rumors said about him.
I knew another David just after high school. He loved Fight Club and his Mama. Respect or fear kept him from saying so out loud, but he hated his father. He thought casual sex meant no kissing. He was going to be a Green Beret. He was privileged and stubborn. He was in love with a girl whose name sounded like the sea. He went away to basic training and came back begging for kisses and freedom. He smoked some weed on that first leave, hoping to get drug tested and discharged. He sent a picture in his dress blues when he got back to Colorado.
Two weeks later he was killed in a motorcycle accident.
Five years later Lil D hung himself in his apartment.
If you know what a man is made of, do you know how he is made?
"And when all predicates have been removed (in thought), the subject that remains is nothing at all in its own right—an entity all of whose properties are accidental to it (1029a12–27).” — Cohen, S. Marc and C. D. C. Reeve, "Aristotle’s Metaphysics"
“He thought casual sex meant no kissing.” I particularly love that bit of description. Lovely, melancholy, thoughtful piece.
David vs Goliath. Stones thrown at huge entities beyond their control. Forgiveness fought for a friend lost life that could not be saved. No answers except both David’s made of clay molded by hands that misjudged families form, with cracks that appear, the clay not cured and fired too soon, not seeing their rightful place in life. The sculptures of men created then destroyed. One among many gone from fighting forces beyond control. A difficult story told that now that I am old gave seen before but still have no answers why.