Saving a world not worth saving.

I honestly do not know how to start this. To be honest, I just rather not deal with this ever again, but it's not up to me. It's never up to me.

I was asked a while back if I believe in ghosts. I shook my head no, but I shared with them that some things, made of strong emotions, often do survive where or when we are. There are places that simply haunt us. There are things that happen that are so painful, moments in time when we realize what we really are and how fragile we can be, that the walls just soak up that energy, that emotion.

What am I talking about? Give me a moment. This is hard when sober for me. Why am I sober?

I held a friend tight once as we sat on the bathroom floor. She did something harsh to herself in the pursuit of ultimate joy when she realized that life was fragile in those moments. I held onto her as purged and cried. She told me her fears and what haunts her. She was honest for once in her damned life, as she began to tell me everything she believed that she needed to tell me. She believed she would not see the end of the night as her own Secret Wars waged within. She swore me to promises and exposed everything.

I simply held her. I held her and promised that she will return. I swore to keep the nightmares at bay and nothing would come of her. It was a sleepless night. There was no shame. And in the end she woke up in her own bed with me at her side. She picked up her tattered dignity and looked at me with accusing eyes. Nothing was said. Breakfast was served, small conversation was made as I left my hands to become busy cleaning any evidence of what may trespassed and left the next morning.

We were never really friends.

There have been many. I've had these moments myself. I've been there many times in fact. The feeling of lost control and knowing that this may be your last moments. The feeling of abandonment and horror.

How could you not reach out?

Avey was more then a mentor. Even now I miss him dearly. So much that I know I always get his name wrong and I hate myself for this. I hate myself a lot really when it comes to him. I'll get into that in a bit. I have to be careful walking this road. I've gotten lost many times here and no matter how many times I deal with this there is no resolution. There is no ending, but just .....

I can say that his presence in this world made my life not only easier back then, but it actually made me feel better about myself. He was someone I looked up to and wished to be like. He helped me not only understand life around me, but he actually taught me that thought proceed action. That actions not only affect me, those around me, but it creates an environment for things to come. That I'm connected to those everyone and everyone is connected to me. He taught me to think and choose my words carefully before speaking by thinking at least 7 times before speaking, something not only very valuable to me, but a skill that had taught me to know how to avoid trouble. A priceless gift when you are 17, naive and know that the choices that you made were not the wisest.

Time came when he moved away. I lost tract. I ended a life in some respects, but I always figured that I would be able to redeem myself and see him again. Kind of show him that I got things under control and that I turned out better than most would believe. Yet some years ago, around this time of year I was told that he died. No, no just died, but that he took his life. I got the news that somehow, my hero, this person who I looked up greatly to and helped me get my life in the right direction had committed suicide. It still feels not right. He had his doctorate in Psychology. He pulled a lot of people out of the mud. Not just me, but many others. He was a great man.

But, suicide? I still don't understand how. They told me he had troubles in his marriage. That things went bad for him somewhere. That he left his children behind. My daughter was his youngest son's playmate. I mentored his older son and secretly wished I would have a son like him. Sure, my life fell apart, but I would get things situated, placed in order and one day come back to see him to show that I was not a mistake. That I would prove myself to him. Show him that I made something of my self and he helped me do so.

But he is dead. He killed himself.

Where was I?

When I say unto the wicked, Thou shalt surely die; and thou givest him not warning, nor speakest to warn the wicked from his wicked way, to save his life; the same wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at thine hand. Ezekiel 3:18

Meaningless words. Another life. A life that in some ways I was force to leave. It honestly does not matter really, but the lessons learned are still with me. I mean, the world was worth saving back then, wasn't it? I was going to save the world. I was young and optimistic. I would reach out for those who needed me the most. I would pull them out of their nightmares and give them a way out. Sure, some would be willing to leave the mud and some needed to be pulled extra hard and sometimes kicking, but they would be pulled out of the mud. If they choose to return to it once out, it was up to them, but I at least pulled them out.

I pulled many out. I even pulled someone I called brother out only to have him shove me in. He helped end my life then. He was the reason I had to go, but I pulled him out of the mud. Avey told me once that even if you pull someone out they may want to go back. He mentioned that some will pull you in with them in an act of fear to get themselves out. Some will even curse me for pulling them out.

My own "brother"?
He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother
Am I my brother's keeper?

So I started a new life, but old habits die hard. I'm not one to walk way. I'm not one to abandon anyone. I'm not one to quit simply because life was hard or the work great. I would push on. If someone needed me I would be there. If you needed help I'm on it. Old habits die hard. I'm too stubborn to give up.

So many helped. So many, but the world does not stay safe. The world must be saved everyday. It never stays safe no matter what. Dog warriors may be able to keep their circumference in check, but the world was huge. I pulled so many out. I held so many. I stayed the nightmares away, but.....

He killed himself. He killed himself. He fucking killed himself. What the fuck can I do now? He was not supposed to kill himself. He was supposed to stay strong and pull others out. He was supposed to be a rock. He was supposed to never fall or die.

He killed himself.

What could it had been? What was it? What the fuck got you? What pulled you down? What was it? What could have made you betray or give up what you taught me? Why did you give up? What crushed you? What made things so bad that you decided to just end it? What happened? Where where you? Who was there? Why didn't they do something?

He killed himself.

And where the fuck was I?

Where was I? Isn't that the real question? Where was I? What was I so selfishly doing that I could let him kill himself? What was I doing? Is it more important that his life? He helped me, why couldn't I help him? What the fuck is wrong with me? How did I fuck up this bad? How is it that I let this happen? Is it my fault?

Isn't it my fault?

The world is never safe. The world can not be saved. How is the world worth it now? Would I trade everyone I helped to be there? Would I give their lives up and leave people in their hell to get to him? To help him like he helped me? To repay a debt? To make sure that he can get out? To pull him out of the mud? To do what he taught me to do which I was not able to do?

Yes. I would let them all suffer. I would leave them on the floors, conscious or not, to get to him. his life is worth more than any of them. Some simply ran back. Others still don't have their shit together still and never will. Avey died somewhere alone and I helped some asshole just because he took one to fucken many hits from a bong.

Seriously?

I can't help to laugh really. I can't help to laugh cause I don't want to cry. How cruel can the world be? How can the world crush him? How can the world crush him and leave me feeling that I let him die. That I abandoned him. You call it hindsight? That does not make things better. It does not make me less ......lost.

I cut a lot of people out of my life recently. It was my survival that was in stake. I saved the world, but the world still needed to be saved. The world still needs to be saved even though I feel I lost track of what is needed. I save the world, but the world does not save me. The world seeks to pull me under.

I hate the world.

But I save it, still?

Yes.

I still pull people out. It's almost as if I attract the lost souls. As if they look for me with begging eyes to say something that will end their pain. Something that will make things right. Or they just want to know that what they feel, I feel.

Fucken world. I hate you more than anything. I almost hate you more than myself sometimes. I hate the world, because I know no matter what, I will never stop trying to save it. One day, I may even have to pay old debts and I understand that. I'm comfortable knowing that that day may come, but I still can not help it. I have to try.

The world needs to be saved.
We can not always save those who we need to.
We can not save ourselves nor would we try.
The world will always need to be saved.

I wish there is a better place.

I miss you Avey. I'm sorry I was not there. I'm sorry I failed you. I know there was nothing I could have done, but I still feel that I failed you. That I could have least done something to help you. I wish I can blame myself and be done with it, but it just does not cover it. It honestly does not cover it.

It's just fucked up.

The world is just fucked up.
It has to be saved.