April 3, 2004
My first soul claim came from a twenty-something out of Somewhere, U.S.A. He was a relatively smart kid, thought he knew everything, much like all the others his age. Two years prior to taking my class he was on top of the world, untouchable, and could achieve anything he wanted too. He had several friends and was life of the party. He was the guy with groups of people crowded around him waiting for the next funny thing to come out his mouth or to see if he would actually get naked. He seemed to have this gift, one that makes the rules of normal man not apply to him.
By the time I met him something happened to him and left a shell of that man. His eyes used to burn bright red, like fire, with passion and determination. That fire was the same fire that burned deep within his heart and was the source of his entire being. That raw burning passion was the reason why he lived. He would see and want something and it would drive every fiber of his being to accomplish. He wanted a house and months later he bought one despite not making enough money. He wanted a girlfriend and then weeks later he had one. He wanted to go back to school so he did. He was on the path to greatness; he was on his way to his ultimate goal/dream, in that everyone would know who he was.
When I first saw him his eyes were dark, cold, and empty. He was defeated and pathetic. His life seemed to be turned upside down and spiraling out of control as everyday he fought to get up and keep trying to regain his claim to glory. Nevertheless each day took its toll on him and added more and more weight to his shoulders. I was amazed at the strength and will power he had. It was quickly becoming clear that he has reached his threshold and couldn’t maintain it much longer.
The day he turned in his paper he had sealed his fate, but weirdly enough he smiled. Why after all this time, when nothing was getting better, would he smile? I followed him home that night to find answers, trying to understand why he was so happy.
He arrived at his house and checked the mail. When he opened the mail box a dozen envelops came flooding out. He picked them up and walked into the house. He sat at the table and began to open the mail: “Bill, Bill, Bill, Overdue, Second notice, final notice.” He opened all the mail and added all the bills to an existing pile of bills on the counter. I was shocked at the lack of worry and concern in his face.
He goes to his room and sets an alarm for three hours later. I was curious why he needed such a small amount of sleep; I couldn’t find it in me to leave. I watched him sleep alone in the dark, quiet, and lonely house. After the three hours he rose, looking exhausted and like death he got dressed, grabbed his keys and left. As he began to drive I saw a name tag hanging from the rearview mirror and assumed he was going to work. As he drove, he turned up the radio as loud as it would go. I sat back and enjoyed the ride. Not paying attention to him I started to notice that the car was drifting from side to side. I looked over and he was sleeping. I yelled at him and he startled awake and regained control of the car.
Once at work he clocked in and walked to the back of some office, sat at his desk and began working. His desk was plain and boring. There was some hand-me-down calendar, paper everywhere, a few empty soda cans and surprisingly a couple pictures of a beautiful little girl. He was some kind of accountant or something as for hours I watched him enter numbers from one spread sheet to the next. I was shocked to see that he was actually pretty good at what he did. He was good enough to finish his work in six hours and when he finished walked to a break room and slept for the remainder of his shift.
When he had awakened from his nap he got back in his car and started to drive forty minutes back towards home but he stopped at a restaurant. He reached inside the glove compartment and pulled out another name tag. He changed his shirt in the car and put on this ugly green shirt, clipped on his name tag, and walked inside. Once inside he checked the seating sheet and stood waiting to greet people. For eight more hours, I watched dumbfounded at this burst of energy from this kid, who only a few hours earlier was sleeping while driving. Table after table he took orders, brought out food and cleaned up empty tables. The restaurant located a few blocks from the collage so the late night shift was packed and never slowed down.
Once he got off work there he returned home for a couple hours to sleep. He would repeat that first day again over and over for the better part of the next year. The only time he seemed to smile were the two days in the week he was off from both jobs and would pick up his three year old daughter to stay with him. Once that little girl got out of mommy’s car something amazing happened… the fire in his eyes and heart flared up again. I never saw this look before; the happiness the two shared for each other was like something out of a book. Yet that fire burned out just as quickly as his daughter left. This man had only one thing to life for and it was her.
For one year I watched this guy kill himself working countless hours with no rest, he never ate, hardly smiled and never had fun. Night after night he repeated the same tasks over and over and over; never gaining any ground to improve his situation and everyday he lost a little of who he was. He worked to barely survive while he watched everyone around him getting everything they wanted. Nightly people called or texted him about all the fun they were having. Friends were drinking and partying, someone was getting married, or a few close friends of his were getting promotions and making something of their lives. Every one of those calls and texts added more and more burden and regret. The news of everyone’s’ great lives improving caused fewer smiles to escape his lips. He did not smile but at the same time he did not hate or envy them. Within his heart he was genuinely happy for them.
As the last of his days close in on his year, he was informed of some predominantly good news. An ex-girlfriend, who had stayed close over the years, was dating again. Of all the good news that he had heard over the last year, this one was different. This one seemed to hit especially hard. He called and emailed her to congratulate her. After a few days pasted with no reply the pain became overwhelming. He stopped going to work, stopped eating what little he normally ate, and closed off to everyone. The only time I saw him leave that last week was to run a few errands. He went to work and visited the HR Department to check the details of his Life Insurance. He talked to the neighbor kid to see if he would watch the animals for a few days and he offered pay for his services.
That night he fell asleep relatively quick and had this relaxed expression as if a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. I would watch him sleep for a close to a year and never did he look so peaceful. He reminded me of his daughter when he was sleeping. His daughter slept happily with not a care in the world. As a child with no responsibility or worries; her only job was to get a good night’s rest so that she could laugh, smile, and play all day tomorrow. There were no alarms set and I watched him as he slept in for several hours. When he woke he slowly opened his eyes, stared out the window to catch a few rays of sunshine, and stretched. Moving slower than I have ever seen him move, I continued watching as he dressed into some jeans, a black button down shirt, socks and shoes. He walked over to the TV. Atop there was a bowl. He took the key out of and put it into his pocket. The next thing he did caught me off guard and never saw it coming. To the left of the TV there was a small box. As he stood in front of the TV and bowl, he moved contents from the bowl to the TV. Inside the bowl was a Money clip that he had for years and carried everywhere for years, a few used earrings (one had some kind of charm on it), a watch, and four rings that he always wore and rarely took off. After he added those items to the box he reached for his wallet, closed the box and left.
He left the house and drove to a greyhound bus station. I watch as he slowly but calmly walked to the window, ordered a ticket, and then walked to sit down on a bench. He sat there quiet for about an hour when bus 212 pulls up. He stood up and patiently waited for everyone to exit the bus and grab their bags. Once the bus was emptied he started to walk onto it but found it difficult to get on the bus. He reached the door and froze. I watched as he took a few deep breaths then continued onto the bus; he never looked back. He closed his eyes as a single tear rolled down his cheek. Minutes later the bus driver closed the door and began to drive away.
A few days later as I followed and studied a few other students through their last year I stopped cold in my tracks as I overheard a news report of a man found dead in his sleep in a greyhound bus. The report indicated that his identity was unknown along with the cause of death. After hearing this report I went to his house and stood in front of the small box labeled “Princess’ Box” and re-read his paper. After I finished reading his essay I grabbed a piece of paper from my bag and wrote a letter to his daughter that only she could see and read.
“Your father was a very tired man. He lived a good life but in the last few years he struggled hard. Your father could set his mind to anything and he would accomplish it. His last few years were hard and he just wasn’t able to pull himself together. That was when he decided to make the toughest decision any one person could make. He noticed that people were doing better without him and that life would probably be easier for everyone if he wasn’t around. He spent the last year making arrangements and ensuring that everyone he cared about was happy. When the last person was able to move on it was time for him to move on.
Please don’t view your father’s decision as cowardly or of him surrendering. He believed this was the best decision for everyone. I can assure you that it wasn’t an easy choice for him and I want you to know that the hardest part about this for him was leaving you. It killed him every day knowing that he would never watch you grow up, graduate high school, get married, or have kids of your own. Your father loved you, so please never forget that and try not to hate him so much for leaving you.”
~Nameless,The Forgotten~
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