Ah jeez, what did I do tonight? I went looking for photos on facebook, in a stalkerish fashion. I'm sure most if not all of you have done so. Well it all started when a friend came over and asked to see what this Diego fellow looked like. So I had absolutely no pictures at all because we never took any. And the high school pics were tiny, out of date, and almost blurry and nonexistent. So hm, I remembered seeing photos of him a long long time ago off of a mutual friend's facebook page. So I went, and those photos were still on there. So was Diego's face. But these pics are still several years old, early college days - old. But still somewhat accurate. So I showed my friend, and he said "Hm, yeah you're right, he is goodlooking, I'd bang him too." LOL.
Anyways my point is, well after that day of showing my friend. I started to look for more and more photos of him. I really didn't want to and should'n't have but it was that curiosity I just had to fulfill, plus I have no pictures of him. I'm almost forgetting what he even looks like now since it's been several months. So I would click on the albums these photos belonged to, and they were from different friends, from different albums and events. In each one, well, he didn't look like he does now. It turned me off a bit. Not that they he looked bad, (he looked quite hot still) but what he was doing in them and so forth, just made me feel so different. They were pictures of him doing stuff, alcoholic pics, pics where he's smoking a lot, and just photos where he really looked like a goodlooking deadbeat. This was the Diego I never knew. But he was smilling in those photos. Quite a bit. Smiles I rarely saw from him. He looked happy in those photos, had lots of friends (bad friends) around him, and different hairdos, different physical weight, but all in Houston. And for some reason the majority of those photos , though in different time periods, and in different albums, were all taken at the same damn bar (I recognize).
I started feel not only disgusted, but just sort of emptier, like I never really knew him. These pics are the real him. Even though he is probably either high or drunk in all of them, that is still the real him. The old him, the normal him, before all the mental changes that happened in the recent years. The smiles. So many smiles. He smiles like Tom Cruise. I just realized that. He told me his mom compared him to Tom Cruise, and I never really understood why, until these photos.
This reminded me of Yusuke, and how I visited him in his hometown meeting his family and his friends, and just the real Yusuke before NYU. And it felt weird, out of place, and I felt like I didn't fit whatsoever. And I didn't like his friends at all. Same with Diego, after seeing these photos, I felt sad. He hung around these bad influences, these druggies, these lowlife sobs, just trash kids. And I went to high school with all of them. When I look at these photos, I feel like I wish he could've just gone to that school in Minnesota that he got into. Save himself from this. He would've just better. He would've been happier, I just know it. I think he envied me. I went to New York, became an artist (sort of), I still have my friends, and I have a future set. I know he knew this, I know he knew that he should've gone out of state, get away from his parents, and get away from this chain of events that has led him to end up the way he is now. I wanted to help him, I wanted to give to him, I wanted him to just be what he couldn't all these years.
I tried to be as wholesome to him as possible. But at the same time, I know he enjoyed those years greatly. He misses those times, even though it became his downfall. It was more fun he said. When he was high, when he was drunk, when he could just smoke a pack. When things were wild and when they were with so called friends. I know he feels sad, and old. Like funtimes are over, like being young is over, etc. Well, he's still addicted. We've done stuff together but in extreme moderation. Although I felt strange to do it with him because I'm supposed to be helping him. I guess I thought it was his weening. I did want him to stop. He also drank O'douls but still, I don't know, I know he wanted my drink. He kissed me to taste it.
He was so popular, social, the alpha male, the fun, and wildest one. Girls loved him, went after him, and his friends got jealous. That's why in high school, even though I had a crush him, I still didn't want him. He was too hot of an item. And I felt like it would get to his head, callousness. And well, it did. He's quite full of it still. Always looking in the mirror. Always accusing people of being in love with him. And that's what's embarassing for me. I feel like just another girl. Another thing to add to his ego. But at least I was the hottest one he's dated, according to him. And he lost me, a person better than him. More wholesome, more stable, more artistic, more poetic, and more compassionate. That's why he liked me. He never said, but I know from the things that he said. In a weird way, I wished I was him. It would've fit the New York lower east side lifestyle. Being a trashy person. Like a Bukowski. He was like a Bukowski. And I wanted not really to be that, but to know it, to understand it, and in a sense, I sometimes would pretend to be trash. I wished I was him, I admired him, I envied him, to have the guts to rebel the way he did. I could've been him, but I love my parents too much to do such a thing. He didn't love parents. And he was able to do it. We were both from strict , Catholic, and richass families who were part of high society in our respective communities. And we couldn't take it. But only he took the action. I just studied really really hard, and got into NYU so I could leave. He took a different approach and destroyed himself to escape.
We are puppets, he told me once as we both describe our roles in our similar families. Ruled by their finance, so we gotta do what they want us to do. You fit me so well, he said to me once. I like to think of it as yin and yang. Yes just that corny. Him and I were Yin and Yang. The same shape, in the same circle, but opposite colors and opposite directions.
I am sad. I wonder if he is. More than anything, I hope he is well. And stays well. I don't blame my best friend for betraying him. Maybe his lifestyle got to her. Although I really still don't know the whole story.
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