John, anlegend

I knew this guy. He was an interesting guy, but mainly what he had was being interesting. He knew all these people all around town and was almost beloved in a way - most everybody would say about him, "Oh, I love that guy." He was clever and artistic and just hung around the art and music scene but knew a lot of people across different avenues. I used to talk to him sometimes either at parties or just hanging out at somebody's house. He and a lot of people said I was like him, but I didn't like that and disagreed, though I think we both took something of a shine to each other and would eventually gravitate if we were bumming the same street. Never explicitly hung out with him, always wondered if I should have. He kind of wanted to.

I drifted apart from a lot of people over the years, but a while back hit up 2 married close friends I hadn't seen in a long while. Serendipitously, they were in a bad way and told me John had shot himself the night before. Wild timing. I gave as many condolences as you can give over the phone and texts about a satellite friend to people you haven't spoken to in 2 years. We told some "john" stories to each other, caught up a bit, they seemed heartbroken. A little pissy at me at the end for being absent. I hit up 2 other old friends and asked about John, and they had a similar spiel. I looked on social media and saw a go fund me for the dude's mom for funeral expenses. Everybody commenting and telling stories, saw some local hipster website obituary. I don't know how many went to the funeral, but enough people donated and there was clearly a buzz, this guy would be missed right sure.

I couldn't help but laugh. When I knew him and all of them, nobody could fricking stand him. From what I'd heard and seen, most of the stories people told were from years before, a lot of people hadn't talked to him much recently, which matched what I knew. The guy was clever and funny, but kind of dumb, unskilled, poor. For every act of empathy and good heartedness, he was always letting someone down or ratfricking them. He was always doing some sketchy BPD shit someone was complaining about - some drug drama, some it's always sunny money making scheme, overstaying his welcome everywhere, getting in little tiffs with people, for a bit he had some weird obsession/relationship with some young guy who was allegedly 19 but maybe 18 but maybe 17.

The very first day I met him I had this weird thought, "That guy is going to kill himself one day." His name came up earlier because someone had given him money to buy them coke but had been ghosting them, and hours later he arrives (after most everyone is gone, particularly the dude looking for him), all fricked up hitting some high and low emotions in the same sentences, giddy at first, then eventually telling a story about how he had a court date because he just got in a fight with some dude on the street over one of them talking shit about the other's driving. By the end of the story he was bawling, but perked up and introduced himself to me. I entirely understood the feeling, but was getting real mixed vibes from the guy. Later I was assured he was the coolest dude ever and close friend to my close friends.

He always wanted to hang out another time whenever I saw him, but wasn't pushy about it. I never followed through because of those vibes. I actually had a dream near when I first met him where he drove me to a party in the sketchiest part of town, ditched me, and finally picked me up as I was walking home, but kept coming onto me borderline sexual assault and getting real apologetic, but doing it again. I told my friend and he didn't understand that it was just a dream at first because that could have been something John did. One time we were hanging out and I know me and John and this other dude discussed eventually killing ourselves when we got too old. Looking back, I think John and I explored the conversation further without the other dude, but I don't think it's like no one knew it was on John's mind. Maybe not, maybe I was the only one and talked him into suicide years before. That same night I remember he told me he really just wanted a good relationship, just something nice for 2-5 years, love like, longer the better, but realistic knowing it wouldn't work out because that shit doesn't. I respected that. But this did concern the 18? year old so, vibes still there.

But like I said, everybody fricking couldn't stand this guy. I was always told never to share my drugs with him - not because of protecting him from any habit, but he'd use it as an excuse to stay longer wherever he was. Every conversation that involved him was "I love John, but" this sketchy thing, this annoying thing. Someone was always avoiding him, he was always avoiding someone. I said he knew all sorts of different people, and some of those were cops, people he'd known before they were cops, and most everyone considered this useful because he allegedly could check somebody's narc status, but at the same time half of everyone figured he was a fricking narc, was weird. I suspected he didn't even know cops and maybe had access to some HR background check system at his job that he lied about. The cheap hipster area he lived in was becoming more crime ridden and shitty. He was getting old, in his early/mid 30s when I last saw him, probably approaching 40s when he popped.

I like to think that my relationship with him was more honest, arms distance in the first place. Almost like I knew him better than a lot of other people who claimed they were close. I wonder if maybe I started hanging out with him he could have been on a better path or I'd be part of some crazy stories where he keeps the party going by bringing some basically homeless people into his house for a musical jam session and is gifted a gold ring by one of the weirder ones. But what I kept thinking about is, what would I realistically say to say he shouldn't kill himself. The best I could come up with was that he should help take care of his shitty alkie mom. He painted a really cool picture of himself while he was on acid once and could play some musical instruments, but he was ultimately mediocre and uncreative in most ways, and more importantly unmotivated. Nobody fricking liked him. They liked the idea of him, but nobody could fricking stand him. I know that was lonely, I very much understood, but he did it to himself. He wasn't going to suddenly become an upright citizen and get some kind of certification or job advancement and improve his life and live in a nicer neighborhood and get high less and be friend that people with kids can even hang out with once a year. He didn't want that. It doesn't come across as some romantic "the candle that burns twice as bright" shit, because at the end of the day, he was kind of an unhappy loser.

I don't have an opinion on whether he should have done it, but I got all these wild feelings watching all these people who didn't want anything to do with the guy bemoan his passing. Oh, he shouldn't have done it. Oh, there was so much more to live for. It's great that he was a fricking legend I guess, but he lived his life sad and alone and fricking killed himself. I wondered what people actually think of me.

I don't know the point in telling this story. I haven't had anyone else to tell it to. Some anhero talk recently. I suppose I don't think anyone should kill themselves. I imagine some dramafoid meeting John in an inpatient center and mentally adding him as some quirky cool friend that they don't actually talk to. (Not that they should.) I don't know what he would have thought of this site, would probably depend on his mood that day, whether he loved or hated it. John is a dead though.