Blaine Larson - How Do You Get That Lonely?

(Image source: warning - strong images)

Thor and I were friends, having been through Elementary School, scouting, and Junior High School together.  His parents were German, and so he took some ribbing when we all went to see Patton.  His older sister was smoking hot, which was made even more so because her name was Heidi.  I got a black eye once for saying things that I really shouldn't have about her.

But Thor was, at the end of the day, a friend.  After he clobbered me we made up and went on like nothing had happened.  Just a couple of kids in a small town.  Until the day he didn't come to school.

I'd been sitting with him the afternoon before, in English class.  We'd gotten our grades, and he'd failed.  He kept saying about the teacher, You're breaking my heart, so f*** you.  Over and over.  I didn't know what to say.

I still don't, but wonder to this day if it would have made a difference.

ASM826 just lost a friend.

Wednesday morning, he hugged his wife, left the house, walked to a motel, checked in, and sometime that morning, he killed himself.

There are demons that flitter in the darkened corners of our souls.  I wish that I said that I couldn't understand; I've written before on this, but understanding doesn't penetrate to the desperate core.  We're surrounded by Grace, but for some the eyes dim and the darkness overwhelms the light.

And the rest of us are left with unanswerable questions.  The best we can do is to look to art in the hopes that something there transcends the incomprehensible.  It is admittedly a thin hope.  This is one such attempt, that does a good job of describing those left behind, questioning.  You wonder if someone could capture the darkness that overwhelms the one who leaves, without having that same darkness seep into their soul.

Save me, oh Lord, from ever knowing the answer to that.



How Do You Get That Lonely? (Songwriters: Rory Lee Feek, Jamie Teachnor)

It was just another story printed on the second page
Underneath the Tiger's football score
It said he was only eighteen, a boy about my age
They found him face down on his bedroom floor

There'll be services on Friday at the Lawrence Funeral Home
Then out on Mooresville highway, they'll lay him 'neath a stone...

How do you get that lonely, how do you hurt that bad
To make you make the call, that having no life at all
Is better than the life that you had
How do you feel so empty, you want to let it all go
How do you get that lonely... and nobody know

Did his girlfriend break up with him, did he buy or steal that gun?
Did he lose a fight with drugs or alcohol?
Did his Mom and Daddy forget to say I love you son?
Did no one see the writing on the wall?

I'm not blaming anybody, we all do the best we can
I know hindsight's 20/20, but I still don't understand...

How do you get that lonely, how do you hurt that bad
To make you make the call, that having no life at all
Is better than the life that you had
How do you feel so empty, you want to let it all go
How do you get that lonely... and nobody know

It was just another story printed on the second page
Underneath the Tiger's football score...

The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is (800) 273-TALK.

But at my back I always hear
Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song: then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust:
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.

- Andrew Marvell, To His Coy Mistress

Seize the day: kiss your children, dance with your wife.  Live like this is the last day of your life.