Monday, November 19, 2007

Le Sigh

My miracle didn't come. Goodbye, Erich. I'll miss your purty face.

Dying Happy

I received this strange text this past Saturday night. It said something like "rukh and tifa had a home invasion and rukh is doing poorly."

Rukh is, as silly as it may sound to you, a friend that I met playing Halo online. Okay, you're asking yourself how much of a friend could he be. A real one. It's hard to explain, but this small group of people who gather to play this silly game together somehow, over the course of a year or two have become a family. We gathered in San Francisco, in Albuquerque, in LA, in Portland, in Salt Lake City. We talk to each other all day on the computer, and we call each other. And Erich (aka Rukh) would always write when he was confused or unhappy or needing to chat or needing love. Rukh flew out to LA for one day once, just to go see a movie with me (and to surprise Miss Kimmy). LOL How ridiculous is that? But that's what our friendship was. Lovely.

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Not too long ago, Erich found a girl that he loved, and so our communication lessened. I was a little worried, but very happy for him. As long as I knew him, even though he would never admit it, all he wanted was to fall in love and have that person love him back as much as he loved her. He wanted to get out of SLC. He did just that. He took a LEAP and proposed to this girl the first time they physically met. He moved across the country to be with her. He got what he had longed for for soooo long.

Two days ago, while he was sleeping, this girl's ex-husband broke into their house and beat Erich to near death with a "blunt object" (I believe it was a pipe). This is what that text message was referring to. "Rukh and tifa had a home invasion and rukh is doing poorly." I don't know what I was thinking when I got that. I was confused and thinking it had something to do with video games. Then I got another text from someone else saying "erich and tifa were hurt in a home invasion." This one clicked, but still I was thinking they were robbed and beat up or something. For a second it crossed my mind that perhaps he was shot. I wrote back, asking if he was okay. "He is in serious condition." I soon learned that this guy had broken into their home and stabbed erich with a blunt object. Even then, I went out to a roller derby, enjoying my night -- concerned about Erich but knowing that he was going to be okay.

It's crazy because when I first learned about it, I had this eery peace about it. I had two thoughts -- I hope the guy didn't mess up his face. Erich is sooooo beautiful. I know that is completely shallow, but his outside beauty is just as much a part of his inside beauty. It's part of who he is, and it's something that we talked about all the time -- how pretty he was (he hated it).

My second thought was that if he dies, at least he'll die happy. Even though I didn't know the extent of his injuries, that was my thought. At least he'll die happy. All he wanted was love and to get out, and he did both those things. And the last time I talked with him, he was telling me that he was adjusting, figuring things out in this new place. I could tell he was happy -- he just "sounded" different than any other time I'd talked to him at home. I think it was hope. He was happy and hopeful. We talked about his wedding, and I complained that he was making me go to ANOTHER wedding. haha And then, we stopped chatting -- I was at work and he was just hanging out. It wasn't a big deal -- we fade in and out of conversations all the time. And he's always online (via his phone). So I would talk to him again soon. One would think that I would have learned by now to not take life for granted.

It wasn't until yesterday afternoon that I learned he was on life support. That I learned that he wasn't stabbed, that he was beaten over the head with a blunt object. And I couldn't picture Erich defending himself. I'm sure he tried, but in my head, knowing Erich and how non-violent he is, it was the equivalent of a man beating a small child.

I got a text this morning saying that he didn't make it. I asked when it happened. My friend said Saturday, they were keeping him alive until his brother got there to say goodbye. They are pulling the plug on him today. And everyone is posting things online, saying that he's dead, that he didn't make it. And I want to scream at everyone telling them to stop saying that. He ISN'T dead YET! I won't say that. I won't say that he's dead. I don't care what medicine or science says. He's going to breathe on his own when they pull the plug. We're due for a miracle. I won't quit on him before he's gone. I won't grieve for him before he's gone. He is going to wake up when they pull the plug, and I will thank God for the miracle.

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I told you he was pretty. I love you, Erich!

Monday, November 05, 2007

Letting go...

Usually, not knowing where I stand with a person drives me INSANE. Seriously -- it makes me crazy, takes over my mind. This time everything is different. It started the same way, and then I just decided that it didn't matter -- that I was better off either way, and I've never felt so free.