If you know me, then you know that I can be moody, but this is getting ridiculous. One minute I am sad, then angry, then frustrated, then confused, then overwhelmed. And well, the list goes on.
I'm not sure how many people know exactly what happened, so I'll just put it out there. Nick took his life sometime between 2 and 3 am Sunday, October 8, 2006. He went out to a dead-end road somewhere on the outskirts of Oberlin, LA (where he lived) and he hung himself from a catwalk between two storage tanks. That's the image I keep seeing when I think of him. Not the handsome man that I last saw walking through the parking lot of the Microtel on Lake Street in Lake Charles on July 22, 2006. Not the handsome man who would have done anything in the world for me, whether or not we were together. Not the handsome man who always put everyone before himself, even if it was someone he didn't even know.
Some of you know that Nick and I had a huge fight a couple of months ago, but you might not know exactly what the fight was about. I had finally worked up the nerve to ask him if there was someone else. I'm not sure why, but I just had this feeling that there was. His answer, "I am talking to someone. JUST talking." The first part of this was via text messages. As soon as I got that I called him. I was furious. He swore to me that they were just talking, that nothing physical had happened. Well, I found out last week that he had lied to me about her working at his mother's restaurant (he said she didn't, but she did), so why should I believe what he told me about the status/depth of their relationship? I felt like I had been betrayed, deceived. We had just been together the weekend before. He had gotten a room at "our" hotel the night before I left for Alabama and we had an amazing night together. Then again, anytime we were together was amazing. All I could think was, "Did he wish it were her, and not me that night?". The discussion turned heated, and hateful words were exchanged. I ended up hanging up on him. The last time I heard his voice was at 11:52 August 1st. It's strange that I remember such details, I do realize this, but that's how my brain works. Back to 'that girl'… and it turns out that she IS 'that girl'. She's engaged. To some guy in the Military who is stationed in Germany. Nice, huh? She showed up at the funeral looking like a total tramp. She had on black pants, a maroon camisole with black lace at the top with a white bra, straps showing and everything. I didn't see her until we were at the cemetery, and I wasn't sure exactly who she was before then, but as soon as I saw her walk up, I knew she was the one. She was one of the last people to get there, and stayed pretty far away from everyone else. Apparently, everyone in Oberlin thinks she's trashy. Now, I know all of this sounds really catty, but I really don't care. The police questioned her the day he died, and she lied about the last time she had seen him or talked to him. She went to his mom
s house sometime last week and told the "truth". They saw each other Friday and he told her that he was giving her space and time to decide what she wanted. He had closed his bank account Thursday, and had wrapped up a few other loose ends. So he had apparently been planning on killing himself that weekend. I had refused to believe that he had planned it ahead of time, until I found out about the closed account and the other stuff. I thought he had just had too much to drink while driving around and got sad, which he tended to do when he drank too much, and just decided to do it in the moment.
I have so many questions. And I know that having answers wouldn't make it any easier, but I just can't stop thinking about it. It's like I'm obsessed. I don't want to be, but the only time I am not thinking about it is when I am sleeping (thank God for Advil PM).
Did he love her?
Did he tell her that he loved her?
Does she know what he wanted to be "when he grew up"? That he didn't actually want to be an electrician?
Does she know what kind of shampoo he used? Or soap? Or face wash?
Does she know his quirky habit of getting the excess water off of his arms, back, chest and legs before drying off with a towel?
Did she notice that his hair wasn't fixed how he would have fixed it when he in his casket?
Or that his ring was on the wrong hand?
Or that he would have been so angry to have had a rosary in his hands?
What was he listening to before he got out of his truck and did it? I have a feeling I know, but if it's this one other song, I would throw up.
Was he drinking beer or margaritas before he did it? One thing I know is that he had to have been drinking or he wouldn't have been able to do it.
In two and half years we had some amazingly good times. We had more than our share of bad, but it seemed like no matter what, if we were together, we were happy. Just seeing his face, hearing his voice, could turn my day around.
I want him back.
I need to apologize just one more time. What if he died and hadn't forgiven me?