Knight in Tarnished Armor

My heart breaks for him at times.  He has been through the mire and survived to tell about it.  He rarely talks about it…but for some reason, he chose to trust me years ago and open up.  Maybe it was because I wasn’t sober at the time and he thought I wouldn’t remember; but I did, and he continued to be open to me.  It created a unique bond of trust that has never broken completely, no matter how many times it’s been tested.  His childhood was a nightmare, and I know it’s affected every decision he’s ever made, but he made it through and doesn’t look back all that often.  He’s hurt me immensely, but the times he’s been there for me are more touching and sweet than words can convey.  He is a cultural relativist to a fault, which spills over into refusing to blame his parents for his flaws, and refusing to blame me for mine.  If he were in charge of the world, we would all be doomed.


The first time I met him, I thought I was in love.  I didn’t know God could make people as extraordinary as him.  I spilled over him like water, and I thought I was the luckiest girl on earth to have captured his interest.  The second time I was around him, I didn’t stop crying for days.  I was really young.  I thought I could save him, and I thought he could save me.  I think he believed that too.  He became my family.  I was so vulnerable to him at times that I was sure he would be the death of me.  I fought not to fall for him completely and get lost in his existence.  I was weak for his eyes, his smell, his laughter, his charm.  His balance of intellect and passion was intimidating.  His presence was electrifying.  I thought there was nothing and no one he couldn’t master.  I still believe that.  I’m convinced the temperature in a room is always hotter around him.


He has a soft spot for people who are vulnerable, but he can lash out at them too.  He made me feel protected, something I had never really felt.  It was intoxicating.  He became a sort of parent figure.  I was young, and I was enraptured.  By letting him be my knight in shining armor, I forgot how to protect myself.


I watched him carve out his niche in the world.  He focuses all of his efforts on the material.  It makes me sad, and I used to try to change his convictions, but he never changes for anyone except himself. 


When I needed help, I went to him, and he took me under his wing with sympathy and sincerity.  He showed me a path that he warned was dark and dangerous, but I followed him anyway.  My life has been reeling since then.  He handed me ecstasy.  We became entangled again, and this time he broke and cried for me.  It was strange to see him vulnerable to me, when I have been vulnerable to him so many times.  We have been reckless…I think we both quietly wonder if we will be each other’s downfall.  That remains unknown, but we carry on in an ebb and flow of using each other and trying to save each other.  He still scrapes me up and puts me to bed sometimes, and I still stroke his back when he has nightmares. 


I pray for release.  I’ve lost so much, and he’s taken it without apology.  I can’t find my way out.  After everything, I am still weak to him.  Loyalty and debt outweigh reason.  Every day I wonder how this will end. 





Filed under Drugs, My Life

12 responses to “Knight in Tarnished Armor

  1. Be strong my friend. “loyalty and debt outweigh reason”, it can so often seem that way and life is out of control. Listen to the little voice deep within you and do what is truly best for you. You know what is best, it may not be the easiest route but you know what is the best for you. Let Nothing and No One deprive you of that.
    Life is to precious to be denied any of it.

  2. Christopher Leibow

    What can I say. No one can save another, we can only carve out a space where if they or you are willing can save yourself. I have a few friends who have said that I saved their lives, but its not true, they saved their own lives. I want redemption, I’ve longed for someone to save me but only I can find it inside myself. Make a space for eachother and then get out of the way, let fate do what fate does. here is a poem about this very thing.

    She sits in the green chair coming undone,
    “I have done terrible things I can’t even tell

    I want to save her, absolve her of her sins
    but I am no saint and don’t know if this
    has all been a lie.

    She is now sitting on the orange couch
    slowly disappearing, “The only thing that
    makes me happy is getting wasted and the

    attention of men.” So I build a cross and
    climb on to it. Trying to get her to look
    up. “See how much I love you.”

    It doesn’t work, these things rarely do. So
    I climb down and take the wood and build
    a house to house our memories.

    In the center an altar to Our Lady of Guadulope
    Her candle all ways burning.

  3. Bill, your words touched me. You have so much wisdom and kindness to share…thank you.

  4. Christopher, thank you for sharing your poem. It struck a deep chord. You have quite a gift, and a strong spirit.

  5. Hmmm….sounds like some self-effacing bullshit there, kid. Own it or don’t, but for Gods’ sake don’t waste time trying to figure it out. The Man either rings your bell or he doesn’t. You know the truth.

  6. Alas…it’s complicated. He’s my dealer as well as my friend.

  7. If he’s your dealer, he ain’t your friend.

  8. Ah, but I’ve been told this before. Easier said than taken to heart, my friend.

  9. You see when you can see and hear when you can hear. Good luck, baby girl.

  10. wow…how I wish someone one would write about me that way.
    I’ve written in my stuff about Misty-my ‘rattlesnake bride’…theres sort of somewhere where I wish there was a purity that I could see her coming back-like the old Jeffferson Airplane song ‘coming back to me’…becaused I loved her,but…alas,I’m sure that will not be.
    The old old me wishes at times he could find a sack to just sit back with and lean against the tree-I hurt a tad,and a bump would’nt hurt a tad-at at times it cross’es my mind-a hoober of a hoot and a toot of the snoot and a hoot hoot hoot (sorta sounds like Dr.Whosss?)hoot…Rhea,I felt your words for the person you wrote about-and understood them,jeeez..sometimes I really miss Misty.

  11. Can two broken people heal each other?

    Praying for release won’t release you. You have to decide and act yourself.

  12. Free to think, free to believe...

    I was deeply moved by this post – it is hard to unravel the affections of the heart from those we love. But sometimes we have to find that strength.

    I wish you well along your path.

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