Crystal

Patrick was my friend. He listened to me. He understood me. There was never any judgment. His strong physique was not only beautiful, but very comforting. When we were together, I felt safe. There were no promises or hidden hopes between us, but somehow, what we had...well, that was enough. Our relationship somehow got us through the fears, the underlying hurts, and the unknown in the the world we both had harshly known and were trying to live in. The demons and monsters quieted for a short while each time we were together.

That is why, Crystal, that I hate you! You took him from me and his family and his dearest friends. I can't and won't forgive you. You played him and you played on him...you found his weakness and you used him. You didn't have the slightest care for him or the person he was...and he was a loving man...to so many in his life. You robbed us all. Every one of us cared deeply for him and none us can think of him now without hurting to the core. I will hate you with my whole being for all eternity.

You dangled false hope and momentary pleasure because that is who you are. You are heartless and have no compassion or mercy. You are a false god who demands worship for the pathetic "gifts" and outright lies that many have fallen for. And you take the very last drop of soul from any person who gets caught in your web of deceit and ugliness. You are from a dark and empty void. How I wish you had never crawled out from under that rock and how I long to crush you with that same stone.

I met Patrick immediately after a bitter divorce and custody battle. I felt damaged and alone and then got red-hot angry because I had wasted so much time and energy on a man totally unworthy of either. I spent hours in the gym lifting weights to release that pressure. And when I wasn't working long hours or working-out, I was dancing. I just wanted the music to make me forget and feel free. Patrick didn't dance or work-out, but he made me forget and feel free, too.

Patrick was mostly a quiet man. A very handsome man. An old soul. His essence was deep and inward. He was trying to figure out why his father had been so hard and so harsh on him and why he felt like he wasn't "enough." I'm not sure if he ever got to the core of that pain. Behind his eyes, I could always see the hurt and longing to be whole.

I was very happy for Patrick when he found "the one," the girl he married. His queen of hearts. I liked her because she adored him. I wanted them to have their happily ever after. They did for awhile and had two children. Knowing Patrick, I'm almost certain he was feeling internal pressure to be the kind of father he had so craved. I had met his dad. I don't think he knew how to be that man for Patrick...it was the same for many in that generation. But Patrick admired his father, just the same. That is why, when he died, Patrick went to a very dark place...more so than ever.

Then came Crystal. Crystal Meth. The wicked queen of diamonds. It was after a long binge with her that his life would do a hard, hard, hard turn for the worse. He had been up for days, stoned and geeked out of his head from the drug. He was on the highway coming home to "crash and finally sleep," but the violent crash came first. He would never have a peaceful sleep or rest ever again. He had been driving on the wrong side of the highway, hit a car driven by a lady and her elementary-aged child head on. It killed the mother.

He was sent to prison for manslaughter. Guilty as charged. A short time later, he hung himself there.

My Patrick, my "Desperado," rest in perfect peace now, my friend.