Status: Complete
Just Lost, Not Forgotten
Just Lost, Not Forgotten
When your sweet name passes over my lips and I am left with a sickenly scalding sensation upon my tongue that forces my mouth to never open again, that is how I know that I am not alright.
It does not matter that life that is lived, the hobbies that are adored, or the amount of friends in a person’s arsenal of support. Whether we have everything at our disposal or our fingers try to grasp the dust the hangs suspended in the air does not matter either. No two people are the same, yet there is one thing that everyone has in common: memories. Whether we have everything or nothing at all, we will always have out memories to cherish and treasure always. Dylon L. Boudreaux is my memory.
So many things can be said about this amazing young man. To begin with, he was wise beyond his ears. His eyes always seemed to have a knowingness about them. It was as if he had lived through more than any normal 18 year old boy should have lived through. This could be why he seemed to have been born in the wrong decade.
With his well-fitting suits and trademark fedora, Dylon always reminded me of a 1920s gangster from New York. Maybe he was a mobster sent from the past to hand deliver a long overdue sentence to someone who so deeply deserved it. I think the joke was that it was really him who would be sentences, and the punch line was that it would not end well. He did not even deserve the sentence being handed to him.
Only two people know the truth about what went on that tragic day nearly a year ago. What was he thinking as he dressed for his pending actions? What could possibly have pushed him to the edge where he believed his only option was to jump into the darkness instead of turning around and searching for the light that lay just beyond the fog clouding his vision? Only two people know that answer: Dylon and God, and neither one is here to answer my questions.
As the first day of his absence turned into two, I remembered the tie that he danced with me at my senior homecoming. It was just the two of us on the dance floor. I can still see him singing to me as we turned in front of the silent crowd. I can still hear his words piercing my ears over the music. “Careful now. You’re so beautiful when you’ve convinced yourself that no one is quite as beautiful.” And for the first time in my life, I felt beautiful.
His two days of absence turned to three, and on the fourth day of his disappearance, we all began to think about the next possible option. It was all confirmed later that afternoon.
I remember the overwhelming need to sink to the floor as my mom told me the horrid news. Dylon had done the unthinkable and chose to jump into the darkness. He was gone. To this day I still question why, hoping by some miracle that he will visit me in my dreams and give me and explanation.
I finally put it all together, that nothing really last forever. I had to make a choice that was not mine. I had to say goodbye for the last time.
The next few days were very blurry. I remember speaking at his funeral. I remember shedding what felt like more than my fair share of tears. It was as if he had shattered my heart when he pulled the trigger and I would have to spend the rest of eternity picking up the pieces. I could almost hear his singing another verse from that song. “Hold It now. You’ve got everyone convinced that you’re alright when no one else is quite as vulnerable.”
Two months later I decided to brand my body with a tattoo. It is a large “K”, which stands for the king in a deck of cards, wearing a fedora. Dylon loved doing card tricks and wearing his fedora. I branded myself with the thought that one day I will need it to keep his memory alive.
When my future children complain about hearing stories about Dylon, when the old photos begin to fade and disintegrate, when I forget the way his voice sounded and how his cologne smelt…. When I forget everything about him, I can look down at the tattoo and remember.
One day life may lead me to the highest of highs or the lowest of lows. No matter where I am or what I have, I will always have my memories. I will always have my treasure. I will always have my Dylon.
And now that I’m strong I have figured out how this world turns cold and it breaks through my soul, and I know.
It does not matter that life that is lived, the hobbies that are adored, or the amount of friends in a person’s arsenal of support. Whether we have everything at our disposal or our fingers try to grasp the dust the hangs suspended in the air does not matter either. No two people are the same, yet there is one thing that everyone has in common: memories. Whether we have everything or nothing at all, we will always have out memories to cherish and treasure always. Dylon L. Boudreaux is my memory.
So many things can be said about this amazing young man. To begin with, he was wise beyond his ears. His eyes always seemed to have a knowingness about them. It was as if he had lived through more than any normal 18 year old boy should have lived through. This could be why he seemed to have been born in the wrong decade.
With his well-fitting suits and trademark fedora, Dylon always reminded me of a 1920s gangster from New York. Maybe he was a mobster sent from the past to hand deliver a long overdue sentence to someone who so deeply deserved it. I think the joke was that it was really him who would be sentences, and the punch line was that it would not end well. He did not even deserve the sentence being handed to him.
Only two people know the truth about what went on that tragic day nearly a year ago. What was he thinking as he dressed for his pending actions? What could possibly have pushed him to the edge where he believed his only option was to jump into the darkness instead of turning around and searching for the light that lay just beyond the fog clouding his vision? Only two people know that answer: Dylon and God, and neither one is here to answer my questions.
As the first day of his absence turned into two, I remembered the tie that he danced with me at my senior homecoming. It was just the two of us on the dance floor. I can still see him singing to me as we turned in front of the silent crowd. I can still hear his words piercing my ears over the music. “Careful now. You’re so beautiful when you’ve convinced yourself that no one is quite as beautiful.” And for the first time in my life, I felt beautiful.
His two days of absence turned to three, and on the fourth day of his disappearance, we all began to think about the next possible option. It was all confirmed later that afternoon.
I remember the overwhelming need to sink to the floor as my mom told me the horrid news. Dylon had done the unthinkable and chose to jump into the darkness. He was gone. To this day I still question why, hoping by some miracle that he will visit me in my dreams and give me and explanation.
I finally put it all together, that nothing really last forever. I had to make a choice that was not mine. I had to say goodbye for the last time.
The next few days were very blurry. I remember speaking at his funeral. I remember shedding what felt like more than my fair share of tears. It was as if he had shattered my heart when he pulled the trigger and I would have to spend the rest of eternity picking up the pieces. I could almost hear his singing another verse from that song. “Hold It now. You’ve got everyone convinced that you’re alright when no one else is quite as vulnerable.”
Two months later I decided to brand my body with a tattoo. It is a large “K”, which stands for the king in a deck of cards, wearing a fedora. Dylon loved doing card tricks and wearing his fedora. I branded myself with the thought that one day I will need it to keep his memory alive.
When my future children complain about hearing stories about Dylon, when the old photos begin to fade and disintegrate, when I forget the way his voice sounded and how his cologne smelt…. When I forget everything about him, I can look down at the tattoo and remember.
One day life may lead me to the highest of highs or the lowest of lows. No matter where I am or what I have, I will always have my memories. I will always have my treasure. I will always have my Dylon.
And now that I’m strong I have figured out how this world turns cold and it breaks through my soul, and I know.