Time travel by music

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A music album – Tracy Chapman’s self-titled album in fact – just threw me back to 1988, when I was 27. It was a great year in so many ways, largely due to the gorgeous Mark. We met at our local pub in my lunch hour and I never made it back to work that day because we talked and drank the afternoon away. Mark was a hockey goalie and had to go to training. Not sure how I got home – probably a taxi cab. A few hours later, he picked me up, we went out and were rarely apart from then on. Mark was exciting. He was incredibly handsome with a wicked grin - and the personality to match - and the 10 months we were together are amongst the happiest of my life It was a whirlwind of hockey games, fast driving, ‘Discos’, drugs here and there – and Cognac on the lounge room floor to Tracy Chapman. I adored him and it seemed to be mutual. He counted every month we were together and treated them as anniversaries, with surprises for each month – and was gorgeous the rest of the time too. From the outside, Mark had everything going for him. Well-paid IT specialist by day, award-winning hockey goalie and sports reporter, much-loved, awesome guy with a wealth of friends, a loving family and adoring girlfriend. He only had one flaw and that was his desire to die. Early on, Mark told me something awful had happened earlier in his life and he was determined to kill himself before he was 30. He said it was a pledge he made himself. He never told me what happened and said he had never told anyone at all. I didn’t push. As I said, I was 27. Unfortunately, Mark was 29. While he wouldn’t talk about what happened, Mark often brought out newspaper clippings – that he kept in his wallet – of 2 friends of his who had committed suicide. He didn’t keep them to remember the friends by but rather to give him courage to stick to his goal. A few times he said “The bast**d beat me to it”. I am a ‘saver’. I adopt strays, be they human or animal. I don’t try to be it just comes naturally since I am a “stray” myself. Never fitted into a group, never will, have no desire to. I didn’t realize Mark was a stray when I met him. He had so much going for him. A lot of people with suicidal tendencies (myself included) can be helped with therapy or medication. There is no helping people as focused as Mark was “on the goal”. Believe me, I tried. Perhaps I should have stuck around but I left Mark – and the state - a month before he turned 30. Just couldn’t bear to be there for it. By then, I had already been fully anorexic twice so, I wasn’t exactly stable myself – and if I’d found Mark hanging, I’d likely have joined him. I blame Tracy Chapman for this post – but also bless her for the good memories.