Left Behind

I'm weighing in at 162. Fatigue without fatigues or camo or anything mossy oaked.
At some point I realized no answer to these electronic flares were going to be answered. I tell myself my words so self published, however, furtively or dangerously were not going to be read by the intended person or agency or associates thereof I wrote them for. In a better world they would read these desperate construct of words and respond. A cameo in camo's would somehow manifest in my daily life. No business cards left stuck at the front door now. Mike and Dave - my very own Mike and Ike's. Well you threatened me with insanity and it happened so now what? Does this make you conclude you were successful or powerful that your words became a prophecy? Did you really see my attempt at life and free thinking as treasonous or a threat. Or was I just a curiosity for you to study? What were the moral implications of your interrogations that would play out in my personal life during your visits and well beyond. Just because you have the privilege to disappear - does that give you license to not consider the implications your work and disappearance would have on me to this day. My life is now confined in an economic strata between crack-heads, meth-heads, water-heads and "ho's" on the one hand to Nurses and Doctors on the other and in between its just retail servitude. This isn't a life. It's an existence - containment - nothing more. Had I just been taken down in those days when we met by some bullet or staged suicide - I'd argue that that would have perhaps been more humane that to build me up - to jerk my mind into thinking something genuine and "big" was happening and that I would useful. Useful is just all I have wanted to be - to whoever was paying the most for whatever cause. So that was a lie. Even though of course you said you wouldn't lie to me and that's another lie. Well I never lied to you even if I had a cloudy mind and couldn't always think clearly.
And still I think very highly of you (both). Even though you and I both know I shouldn't. I can't help it. I think very highly of you. I still feel and believe it was a privilege to meet with you. And I write this knowing your contempt and obvious critical analysis at my pathetic attempt at life. With all your brilliance and intellect did you ever stop to think what it must be like to be trapped in the capsule of my life with its intellectual and emotional limitations. Did you give thanks for that. Were you aware of how badly I wanted to break out of this encapsulation of my mortal and mental existence. And that if couldn't do that how much I just wanted to work (outside of retail) for a viable or livable wage.
Were you aware of how I wanted to pin all my medical bills to the wall in my living room and blow my brains out on those bills - spraying my brains on them - so that when my body was found weeks later someone would know why I had done it. And somehow in that equation I could think someone examining all that would care or understand.
And like a bad crush I still can't get you out of my mind - either of you - still. It's been how long now. I think about you more times that I feel comfortable admitting. A few times a day - still. Just as I do my ex - still. Mike and Ike left. My ex pushed me out of our home and life overseas. My mother had passed away - then my father - then Rebecca - then Margo - and of course Rusty. And where did this leave me. I ask myself why was I left behind. Left behind - two words that haunt me and now define everything about me. Left behind and left in a mental health and gut disease syndrome I wouldn't wish on anyone. Left behind in isolation and self doubt.
Infatuated with you guys to the point of blind faith. Still. I literally would have done anything you told me to and I would have naively thought it would have been alright. At least you did not use that dynamic to dispose of me. That is to your moral credit. But what if you had just given my failing life some help or support - how would things be different now. Perhaps I would have gotten out of retail which as I told you is all I have ever wanted. And possibly had a less crushing mental health illness. Likewise would it really be so taxing to reappear in my life to assist me in finding a way to grasp and file away my experiences with you. Whisked off to DC with some decent hotel accommodation and a couple visits. Or even just here. I miss the magic that you brought with your time. I wish you knew what it was like to witness that from my end. Mostly I just wish you wanted me to talk to you rather than me wishing I could talk to you.