Chinks in my Armor

It is said like attracts like; we are drawn to others who possess similar energy, optimism and motivation. This certainly seems to be the case in the majority of relationships I've had. When I was looking at things as half empty, that is what I got in return. When pessimism prevailed in my psyche, doom and gloom became my partner. The chinks in our armor can unwittingly attract what we want least, but invariably our mind-set determines the outcome.

When I was in college, I befriended a young man who on the outset appeared charismatic and witty, distracting me from the mundane chore of waiting tables, deftly matching my sarcasm tit for tat.

Though he was a couple years younger than I, we were like Tom and Jerry, making laughter our means of getting through each 5:00 AM shift. Our pranks were not selfishly confined to ourselves; we gladly taunted our fellow coworkers who were often peeved with our diversions.

Outside of work, we spent time together as well... seeing movies, canvassing the mall, sharing our wish lists for the future. He introduced me to his friends, I introduced him to mine.

Lane’s dark eyes and disheveled hair gave him an intellectual yet brooding air that made women, young and old stare. Shrinking down his six-foot frame into his faded green army jacket, he would pretend not to notice. If I teased about the obvious attention he drew, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Our friendship held no romantic aspirations or hang ups, at least not for me. But I mistakenly assumed he shared my sentiment and my lack of clarity would have painful, almost fatal, ramifications in the months ahead.


I was just old enough to go to clubs, so often I would meet up with a group of people from school. Because I lived about a half hour's drive from town, I would spend the night with friends if we had been drinking. Returning to my Dad’s house at three or four in the morning to change and shower was not uncommon for me on the weekends. I would sleep an hour or two and head back to work.

Lane was on the outside of that part of my world, but he had his own circles that seemed to keep him busy. One evening (actually early morning), as I barreled down the gravel road home, I was startled by the sight of someone walking alone in the dark. Though I was surprised by such an apparition, they became no more than a fleeting image, soon shrouded in swirl of dust barely visible in my rear view mirror.

Gratefully, I soon settled into bed, set my alarm for 4:30 and fell instantly asleep. A persistent and foreign noise brought me from my much needed slumber. I awoke to tapping, but at first I wasn’t sure what it was or where it was coming from. After a few minutes, letting my head clear, I realized it was at my window. And on closer investigation, uneasiness gave way to irritation when I discovered that it was Lane.

I met him at the back door demanding to know what he was doing here, a bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back. He finally held them out as a peace offering that I was unwilling to except. He said that he just missed me and wanted to surprise me, but without a car he was forced to walk. He had hitched a ride as far as the county road, but the last six miles had taken longer than he had expected.

I was concerned that he would wake someone in my house, but I just couldn’t bring myself to turn him out, making him walk all the way back to town. I threw some blankets on my bedroom floor and told him that I would drive him home when I went to work. I locked my door and prayed that my father wouldn’t discover him.

I managed to get him out of my house undetected, but I was no less furious. In no uncertain terms, I let him know he had better not pull anything like that again. This event created a chasm in our relationship, and I began spending less and less time with him. Somehow this only encouraged him more.

A week later when I came home from spending the night with friends, I found a jacket wrapped in clear plastic lying on my bed. It was brand new, still donning tags. I knew exactly who had bought it for me. I had shown it to Lane a few weeks earlier and told him I was saving to buy it. I couldn’t imagine how he had saved enough money for it, but I didn’t care, I wasn’t accepting this gift.

I asked my father when Lane had dropped it off. My father hadn’t seen him. I asked my brothers and sister... no one had seen him the night before. Goosebumps arose on my flesh, when I realized that he had snuck into family’s home, my room. Why? What had he touched, had he taken anything, what would he do next?

At the first opportunity, I took the jacket back to him. I should have left it hanging on his front door, but I thought if I confronted him, he might listen. He apologized over and over, trying desperately to get me to come in. I saw something in his eyes that day that I had never seen in him before. I was afraid of him for the first time, but I rebuked him and told him I would see him at work.

Shortly after this encounter, I began dating someone I’d met at school. It wasn’t serious, but it did not go unnoticed. Daily Lane left notes on the windshield of my car begging my forgiveness. When that didn't get him notice, he began threatening the boy I was seeing. Two weeks later, when he was fired from the restaurant for not showing up for his shifts, I thought maybe it was finally over. I was wrong.

Three days after he was fired, I was working a Friday dinner shift when a call came into the kitchen. Room service requests were constant, so when the manager said it was for me I was baffled. Innocuously, my coworkers paused and leaned in to see what it was about. I had never received a call at work...???

When the woman on the other end of the line started speaking, I was confused, thinking she had asked for the wrong person. Only after repeating herself did I begin to grasp what she was saying to me. She was a nurse from the county hospital, where Lane had been brought by ambulance after trying to commit suicide. My throat seized up, tears began streaking my face. I was in utter shock.

I asked her if he was alright and she said that eventually he would be. After pumping his stomach, he told her that he had not intended to kill himself, he just wanted to talk to me. He begged her to call me. She finally relinquished because he wouldn't give her any other name.

“What should I do? Do you think I should talk to him?” I sputtered and choked out between sobs.

“He did this to get your attention. If you talk to him, then he got what he wanted, but you can count on it getting worse. If I were you, I would walk away. You can’t save him. He’ll have to do that for himself if he chooses,” she advised somberly almost as if she had a daughter of her own.

Numb, I hung up the phone and recanted the events to everyone who was by now staring at me in disbelief. They knew we had been friends, they knew he had been obsessing over me of late, but no one thought he was capable of this... least of all me.

I left work early that day, still trying to catch my breath. I fought the urge to go to the hospital, instead I drove home at a mad pace daring not to look back. I wept for our lost friendship, I wept for the pain I had brought upon him, and the pain he had thrown back at me. He could have had any girl, why did he want me?

I still don’t know the answers to those questions, but for what ever reason he seemed to be driven to destruction. I soon moved to California to finish my degree. When I returned home for the holidays, my father reluctantly shared with me that Lane had been killed in a motorcycle accident. I mourned the loss of my friend yet again.

Does like attract like? Was I living so selfishly, recklessly that I brought this upon myself? Did I ruin another person’s life in the process, because I didn’t think things though and consider the consequences? Honestly, I don’t know for sure some days... I did what felt right at the time... and I try to remember those words. "You can’t save him...he’ll have to do that for himself...” I hope she was right.

What I do know is that on the flip side of my life, as my self-assurance and gratitude have grown, the rewards have been great. The people in my life mirror what I respect, what I want for myself. Though there may be struggles, I have the confidence to see them for what they are. When the glass is half full, it just seems to get fuller. When my outlook is optimistic, joy and hope are my companions. The chinks in ‘my’ armor are what make me human, allowing others to see the real me, treasure me, love me.