“I dont want you here. Get the fuck away from me!”

Obedience is such a despicable thing.

I had already endured as much as I though I could. Balled up fists smashing against my face and chest, nails tearing at my skin, spit, vomit, blood. I was drained. Just as emotionally as I was physically and I am not a hero, I am a bad man and here she was reminding me at the top of lungs.

“Go!” She yelled.
There was a brief moment of silence. Deep down, I realized that it was a demand that should respectably be followed, but somehow my mind processed it as if it was a question. I felt a desperate need to respond. I felt like the entire intensity of an impending storm depended upon my next words.
Her finger was still in the air. She was much too drunk to realize that it wasnt pointed at me, but I recognized that gesture. I’ve seen it before I thought, as I picked up the bottom half of my t-shirt and used it to whipe the blood away from my nose and bottom lip. Those kind of gestures do not ever require a proper reference point because it doesnt matter where those types of fingers point, they are just meant to state “anywhere else…..anywhere but here…..anyone but you.”

Twice…….
Two fucking times I had been been given that guesture that seemed like a question. From two different women years apart and I choked both times. Twice I let them down and did not respond because I gave into that sickening obedience. All of us did.

Even now I find it difficult to distinguish a difference between the first womans breathless plea, “please just go away. I want to die here.”
And the latters unearthly screams “You make me sick! Go away!”

Because the following moments in both scenarios are the same. Moments soaked in the most repulsive subordination.
They had already made the decision to obey. One was already determined to follow the impending orders of the fist-full of pills she had just consumed. And the others blood had already begun to follow the chain of commands that began from some dilluted logic up in her mind and issued down to her shakey hands that opened up her veins as if to give her blood the very same gesture I was given. “Go!…Leave!” And just like me, it bowed its head and did as it was told with no response.

Inferiority lies at the heart of all forms of enablment. It doesnt matter whether you march to the grave or you hold somone else’s hand while they march towards thiers. The obedience states that you have compromised all control of yourself to suit the “needs” of another. It doesnt matter what it is, I know my own inferiorty as a young man robbbed my of my heroic ability.
There is no room for obedience in the mind of a hero. Heros run into danger when they are told to get out. This is what seperated me from them. This was the answer that I choked on when given those gestures that seemed like questions. Heros do not wait until morning. If I was the man I am now, I could have stopped them. Instead of thinking I was giving them what they so desperatly wanted by leaving them there to perish. Thankfully these women did know real heros that ran in after I left.

I do know one thing though….obedience is no longer a part of my life. There will be no third time. I promise you that.