Saturday, October 14th, 2006, marked the anniversary of Manuel Stahl's tragic death. He was amazing. He spoke 3 languages. He played several instruments. He was a model, a philosopher, a friend and a genuine person. He liked me. And I him. 21 and he died. I still think of him often. His number is still plugged into my phone. I called it once after he died - to hear his voice on the outgoing message - but I feared someone else would pick up. After two rings, I hung up. Hearing someone else's voice on the other end of the line would have meant he was really gone...I no longer want a motorcycle. I do a sign of the cross or say a silent prayer whenever I see someone on one. I shake my head when I see people riding unsafely. I'm somewhat disgusted by my own motorcycle license and my past passion to have one.
Manni, I never told you this, but I do love you. You were a nice boy. A good friend. You were the most well-rounded individual I know.
His personality was infectious. He was indubitably loved. Few disliked him. Those that did were probably jealous. Insecure. Upset that Manni had so many things going for him. He picked a flower for me once and put it on the windshield of my car. I left it there for days. The first time I ever drank was with him. He made sure I was safe. He listened to my sob stories. He walked me home. He put me to bed and promised to wake me so that I wouldn't miss my parents' visit the next day. He told me he was a fan of mine. He meant it.
Manni confided in me once that he did not like himself. I was in shock. I stroked his hair and tried to make him feel better. It was utterly astounding to me that someone I could be so fond of could feel like such an unwritten book. I understand, though. He had such high expectations for himself. He had such high expectations for life. The potential his heart and pulse beat with was deafening.
He affected me in a great way. All of us, really.
I sometimes wonder if I am now walking the streets you did nearly 2 years ago when you lived in New York. It's a shame you died so young. You really would have done something great in this world...and I would have been intensely jealous.
Our time together was short, but he is one of the few people I hold in highest regard. Sleep well, Manuel. You've left quite an impression on me...
1 comments:
God, how awful!
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