Tuesday, March 20, 2007

The Angst

Do you ever get the feeling that life is just a series of gut-wrenching events, one after the other? I know that, at times, I have felt like this. Lately, I've been working diligently on counting my blessings and taking pride in my successes. But lo' and behold, along came another one of those events that made my stomach turn and my blood boil.

I'm sure if you are reading this, that we have likely spoken about this event last week, however, I feel the need to click it out on the keyboard in hopes that my fingers will write out some thoughts that my mind is incapable of translating. Last Thursday, Kelly invited some of her coworkers out to Dave and Buster's during Happy Hour to celebrate her new job. Kelly was finally able to get a position in an HR Department with a reputable company - and she was duly excited. In anticipation of this celebration, I also invited some of our friends out as well as they invited their friends.

The night started out on a tremendous note. As people arrived at the bar they congratulated Kelly and ordered a delicious beverage from the bartender. We sat around and talked in two small groups, all reminiscing about life, work and all that fun stuff in between. As the night progressed, so did our states of inebriation. Some of us are able to hold our liquor better than others, and some of us should never be allowed to drink.

Now many people believe that when you are drunk, you are incapable of lying because your inhibitions are simply gone! Other's argue that when you are drunk, you are the complete opposite of the person you are when you are sober - again, attributable to the lack of inhibitions. Either way, there are those of us out there who do not hold people responsible for what they do or say while they are drunk, simply because that person has no cognoscente behavior about them.

One of the people who was invited by a third party (I guess that makes him a 4th party, however, the "third party" was really a 2nd party because he is directly friends with Kelly and therefore invited by virtue of that relationship) has been known to do incredibly stupid things while he is wasted. Now I have hung out with this individual in the past and I held him in high regards. He is very respectful, reserved, and generally a nice person. At one point in the night we look around at our surroundings and find this person standing very close to another one of our friends, a girl. He is practically pressed up directly against her and talking into her ear. Knowing that she likely wasn't comfortable about this drunkards behavior, I walked over and pulled "the guy" off. I told him that she had a boyfriend and his actions were not acceptable.

As he looked at me, I could tell that he wouldn't remember a moment of this night, as his eyes rolled upwards then downwards and all around his sockets. He tried to tell me that everything was okay and he began to walk back towards the girl. I watched him closely to make sure he didn't try to get too close to her again, but what a surprise - he was pressing up on her again!! My friend and I walked over to him as the girl was trying to get away from him. He kept pulling her in and she kept telling him no, and he kept pulling her in. The two of us grabbed his arms and pulled him back aggressively, and made sure that the girl was able to safely walk back to the group. She nestled herself in between Kelly and our friend. Now the two of us were holding him back and we made it abundantly clear that she was off limits and he was not to go near her for the rest of the night.

At this point he tried to hand me money, why? Who the fuck knows why (I actually found out the answer later in the evening, but we'll get to that)? This time, instead of letting him go, we told him to stay put as the two of us returned to the bar to talk to the others. A few minutes later I was standing next to Kelly and I saw this guy walk towards us. He didn't appear to remember anything we told him because he was acting like nothing happened. At that moment, things changed. This guy tried putting his arm around Kelly, and without any hesitation, the second his arm came towards her, she grabbed his wrist, pulled it away and screamed, "NO!" The foolish boy tried this a few more times and the same result occurred every time, Kelly grabbed his arm, twisted it, and pushed him back, screaming, "NO!"

Kelly stood up at this point and began to scream at him. The kid stood there and rocked back and forth, as if he was ready to fall sideways. Kelly started to walk away and he reached for her. He said something to her and Kelly screamed at the top of her lungs, "I SAID NO!" At this point, after watching Kelly impressively defend herself, I walked over to the guy to speak with him. My blood was boiling at this point and my first instinct was to choke him. I wanted to grab his neck with my huge hands, and squeeze it as I pressed him over the railing. I wanted to get into his face and speak quietly to him, letting him know that if I ever saw him again that I would make sure he regretted it. I wanted to squeeze his throat until his eyes watered blood and he choked on his last breath; then I'd let go and watch him cough and gasp to fill his lung with air.

But I didn't. In an instant, I thought about the repercussions of the above actions and how it could seriously backfire. I thought about the alcohol in my blood and how it was altering my perception of reality. I also thought about Kelly, and how she defended herself without hesitation, and with honor. So I didn't do the things that ran in my head. Instead, I told him to never talk to Kelly again and to stay away for a long time. He again, tried to hand me money. This time, I was enraged and asked him what he thought it would do.

Just prior to him handing me money, he tried to hand it to Kelly and she screamed at him, "What do you think I'm a prostitute you fucking asshole!?"

His response was, "Rich girls like money." I told him that he could never buy respect and that his actions were inexcusable in any state of mind. My friends were around me and they were not as upset as I was, because they had seen him act like this. They had a different emotion. Jubilation.

They had never seen a girl stand up to this guy before, and they loved every second of it. They already knew that Kelly didn't take shit from anyone, as she's spoken up before. My friends were behind me laughing and joking about how Kelly was a "ninja" and how she was bending and twisting this kid's arm like it was a twizzler. Instead of being angry with me, they were happy for Kelly.

At this point, I was extremely confused - not at how my friends were reacting, but how I should be feeling. As you read earlier, I was slightly angered by his actions, enough to want to hurt him - but I was also impressed with Kelly's actions. A part of me felt like I should have intervened much earlier and stopped this action before it escalated. A part of me felt like I "bitched out" because I didn't inflict physical pain on this kid, I felt ashamed that I didn't respond like a man is expected to respond. I felt embarrassed that I didn't explode on the kid in the name of Kelly.

I also felt immense respect for Kelly because she handled herself exactly the way I would want her to. I was proud that my friend's were excited by her actions, and honored to be with her and associated with her. But I still felt, and still feel emasculated. I felt like Kelly reacted the way I should have, and I sat back and watched the show.

I walked over to the bathrooms, where Kelly was watching over a friend of ours. I told her how proud I was and how amazing she was. I also told her that I felt like a complete scumbag for not doing what my mind wanted me to do. She told me that from an outside perspective, if she hits him and hurts him, it is self defense. If people saw me hurting him, then it's a vicious attack and/or a bar fight. She told me that if I did what I wanted to, that I could be sitting in the back of a police car and the other guy could be in the back of an ambulance. She told me that by restraining myself, I likely kept myself out of court and out of trouble. I knew what she was saying was true, and while it brought a bit of comfort to me, I was still boiling with hatred.

The kid was brought to my friend's apartment and Kelly and I stayed back to look for a missing purse. I wandered outside for nearly an hour, in the rain, looking under cars, in bushes - anywhere. I thought of what I would do if I stole a purse, about how I would empty the purse and leave it behind. I feared the worst the entire time and walked back inside, dejected, again. I had to tell our friend, who was already sick, who was already approached by "the guy" and insulted, that her purse was gone. I told Kelly that I would walk her out while Kelly grabbed her final belongings. On our way out, we passed the bar and took one last peek, nothing to be found. As Kelly rounded the final corner and just before I opened the door to the outside, someone from behind the bar called for Kelly and handed her the lost purse.

We got outside and I finally had a smile on my face, at least tonight wasn't going to end in a complete disaster. We loaded our friend into the car and drove home cautiously in the rain. We brought her inside, and made sure she was comfortably on the couch, under a blanket, and prepared for the worst to fall out of her stomach (a trash can was ready for that).

A couple of my friends were at my apartment, as it was still an early night. As I began walking inside I met up with them and began to vent. I told them that I was incredibly upset as his behavior and that I felt terrible that I didn't respond. One of my friends, who is a very good friend as far as friends are concerned, stopped me and told me that everything I was feeling was normal and acceptable. He also told me that if I wanted to, we could go to his apartment now and beat this kid unmercifully. He then told me that this kid has done this many times before, and that while anger is acceptable, I should instead reflect on how Kelly reacted, and be comforted in knowing that she can defend herself effectively.

We walked inside and all sat down in the living room. We praised Kelly for her valiant actions and laughed as we recalled the events from the night. One of my friends suggested that we get a bit of revenge on the kid, since he was passed out nearby. Without any hesitation I took him up on his offer and exited the apartment with three other friends.

We walked over to the next building, marched upstairs, picked him up, and simply threw him in the dumpster. After we tossed him into the dumpster, I walked with another friend across the street to grab some beer. We talked a bit more and returned to my friend's apartment to hear him yelling at the kid. He was screaming, "Don't you ever touch Launchpad's girl! We did this for Launchpad!"

It felt great knowing that I had a group of friends who were willing to help me feel better, even if it meant tossing a friend of theirs in a dumpster. We all walked back to my apartment and closed out the night by playing some video games and laughing about the night.

When our friend woke up on the couch we told her what we had done and how the final parts of the night pieced together. She laughed a bit, and was glad to hear that she had met some guys who were also willing to help her out, even after only knowing her for a short while.

I went to bed that night with a tiny bit of satisfaction, and an ounce of regret. I still wanted to act out my mind's desires. Although, as I reflect, I'm not sure if I'd ever be satisfied enough. I'm sure at this point, while I may be happy he was hurt, I would still be feeling the same thing. I know that I'm not ready to confront this kid, simply because I've been thinking too much and I don't want to overreact. I'm not sure, at this point, if I can ever respect him in the same light that I did before, and to me, it is a huge loss; for him.

My mind still churns and plays out the different scenarios from that night. I still feel the angst and the aggression, even today. Now I struggle with the confusion on which part do I need to focus on the most? Do I focus on releasing my anger for how I did not react, or do I focus on forgiveness and a return to normalcy? I'm not sure if I can answer that question at this point.

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posted by David Malloy @ 8:02 AM 1 Comments

Thursday, March 15, 2007

The Advice

The long drives home from lands far, far away are always interesting. With all of that time to sit and drive, my mind can't help but wander, and wonder. On a recent trip back from Atlantic City (3-4hrs), I began to talk to Kelly about her family.

The discussion began when she mentioned that her Aunt has a house nearby, and she may be thinking about selling it in the next couple of years. Since the two of us will be and are sort of in the market to buy, I began to inquire a bit more about the house. Kelly mentioned the house used to belong to her Grandparents, and they had passed away years back. At this point in the conversation I chose to switch subjects and ask her some questions about her grandparents. One side of my brain wanted to know more about them, since I had clearly never met them nor heard many stories of them. The other side of my brain wanted to hear Kelly speak of them solely for sake of discussing mortality.

Since I was born, nobody in my family has passed away (except my Great Grandmother when I was 5 or 6). I have had some losses in my life, friends, teachers and pets - but never someone that I had developed a mature relationship with. Being 23 years old, I am concerned on how I will take this devastation. I have to keep reminding myself of the inevitability of the whole matter, but it hasn't made this any easier on me.

So Kelly began telling me stories of her grandparents and how they passed. She seemed very composed the entire time and I was impressed by this. I'm not sure how I'll react in the same situation but I hope I can be strong like her, even if it is 10 or more years after the case. As she finished up her words, I began to ponder the mortality of my own grandparents. Now I have two sets of grandparents like most people, however, one set has been out of touch since I was 16 years old, that's 7 years. A couple years ago I was at my other Grandparents (father's parents) and my Nanna told me that my Grandmother had passed away on the operating table.

So many thoughts ran through my head at the time, but sadly, and embarrassingly, I didn't cry. It's not that I didn't feel emotion, it's that I couldn't believe it. How could I have not heard of this? My Nanna began to fill me in on the details and informed me that she heard from my brother, Peter. I immediately picked up the phone and called my brother to get the details. After speaking with him for two minutes he had informed me that his friend's grandmother had passed, not ours. At that moment, a wave of refreshment had washed over my like a huge, cold, oceanic wave.

But the wave was so big that it took me down into it's depths and began to cycle me around in it's powerful grip. My body crashed viciously against the rocky sand below, with the blades of beach glass cutting deep into my flesh. I was dragged across the bottom of the ocean and spat out on the other side, in a foreign world. It was at this time that I began to seriously ponder mortality, my own and my family's.

To get back to the car ride... After Kelly had finished speaking, I began to think about my grandparents (mother's parents). I wanted to know how they were doing but was so hesitant to call. I had tried to reconnect with an Uncle just recently and was hit with a roadblock as he told me I "need to pan out my issues with my mother" as he didn't want to get involved. I was so upset by this that I completely gave up and continued to live my own life.

But this time, I was concerned. I was concerned that my mother's family would believe I chose to remove myself from their lives and I chose to stay out of touch all these years. I wanted them to know, more for myself than anyone, that I thought about them daily, and that I cared about them always. I don't call my grandparents out of spite for my mother, I simply do not call them because I don't know what to say. For 7 years they have heard a one-sided story that is sure to be exaggerated and devastating. At this point, I am done proving myself, I am done trying to apologize for my mistakes as a child. I am done.

I don't want to call my mother and only speak about how terrible of a person I was, and probably still am. I don't want to call my mother and listen to hear speak of how I ruined her life and her family's life. This is why I don't call my mother; she is stubborn and narrow minded and refuses to consider the possibility that she had anything to do with her own downfall.

The biggest problem is, she refuses to admit that her new husband is doing anything wrong by smoking marijuana. Now I'm not even going to get into this, because my father smokes marijuana openly, but I doubt he'd ever store it in a magazine rack on the floor where a baby is learning to crawl and walk.

But beyond that, beyond my side of the story - I simply do not want to prove myself to her any longer. And if she requires this from me, then I need her to know, and her family to know, that it is her decision and her ultimate choice to keep me removed from her life and her family. But what do I know right? I'm just a stubborn boy my self and I've also only told and experienced one side of the story.

So I called my Dad for advice, for the first time in my life, I had a father who I could call when I needed some help - and it felt great!

Just as a side note, I wasn't able to complete my conversation with my Dad on my way home, so we finished it the next evening - but now we return to the main event.

My father, in my eyes, is a lot like me. He is incredibly intelligent, relaxed, calm, loving, adventurous and many other things. Above all of those things, he is compassionate and good willed. My father has done some terrible things in his life, and not once has he ever pretended those things didn't happen. He knows he spent nights in jail, he knows that he was overly aggressive in punishing his children and he knows that he has done drugs. What many people don't understand about this man, or choose not to understand, is that while he has done bad things, he has learned from them and become a better man from them.

Now I would never make the comparison that my father is in any way a holy man or as powerful a man in history as Siddharta Gautama. That would be nothing short of blasphemous. However, I cannot help but use the lessons from Siddharta in my own life, and I believe this is what I should be doing anyways. But if a man as great as Siddharta can make mistakes in his life, and still be loved and accepted, then why can't anyone?

Anyways, back to the story. I spoke with my father and he handed out some pretty simple advice, but I didn't expect to hear this from him.

"You've earned your position right now David. You are where you are because you worked hard and achieved your goals. Stop being modest all of the time and try being arrogant once in a while. I'm not telling you to insult others or put down those who may not be where you are, but don't be afraid to be proud of what you've done. There is no shame in being proud of yourself."

Now I have always thought that a good trait in a man is modesty, and I still believe this. My father is too intelligent to tell me something like this and to expect me to take it literally, so I began to dissect his message, his advice.

My father would never tell me to set aside modesty and become an arrogant and pompous ass. I think what he wanted me to hear, what he really meant to say - was be proud. Pride may be perceived as one of the Seven Deadly Sins - but only when indulged. There is nothing wrong with waking up in the morning, looking around at the home you've built (not literally of course) and smile to yourself. There is nothing wrong with counting your blessings once, twice, three times.

More important than the advice he just gave me was the message he left me with before he got off the phone. He told me to embrace fear and use that fear as motivation. Don't be afraid of what other's may say, just prepare yourself for what they may say and always remember, never back down from what you truly believe. If I truly believe that I am right in this situation, then I must stand up, as a man, and defend myself. There is no honor in folding over for everyone and always agreeing.

I am where I am today, because of people like my father and the advice they have shared with me. It has never been difficult for me to ask for help and I believe that this is a trait I thank God for every day.

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posted by David Malloy @ 7:55 AM 2 Comments