I am Him

by Marc Rich

Every day is the same routine.  I turn the keys to my tenth floor apartment, and there he is, drowning in a bottle of liquor and swimming in self-pity.  He asks me where I’ve been, knowing that the answer is work, and he chuckles and takes another long gulp from his liquor bottle.

I pity him, even more than he does himself, I really do.  I’d imagine it’s hard to live each day with no direction or motivation to accomplish anything in your life, other than trying to drink more than you had the day before and trying not to pass out this time.  Yet I have no sympathy for him.  I can’t sympathize for someone who repeatedly does it every day with no attempt to change their life for the better.  He has nobody to blame but himself.

This is why I find it a bit insulting to hear when someone mistakes us for one another.  If you can get past his mangled beard with food stuck in it, and his disgusting shaggy hair, then I guess I can see how we look a bit similar, but it’s a stretch.  Where I dress the best I can every day, he’s content with wearing the same dirty underwear he’s had on for a week.  When I go to work every day to be a productive member of society, he sits on his ass in the apartment, alone.  The differences are endless.

It’s even worse that we share the same exact name: first, middle, and last.  It makes it a hassle to deal with the incoming mail, although it’s not like he ever gets any.  But he has no shame in tearing open mail that he knows is addressed to me and throwing it away after he’s given it a quick read.  Occasionally he’ll remember what the bill was for and let me know how much it was for the day that it’s due.  At least he hasn’t drowned all of his brain cells with liquor.

I might feel different about him if he didn’t have any loved ones that cared about him enough to try and help.  At least then I might understand why he’s like this, but our mom and sister call him every day to get him help and check up on him.  He refuses their calls all day and sits in the apartment drinking and playing video games.  Every day they call over and over again, only to be ignored like every other day.  He always tells them that he’s been working from home, but everyone knows that he’s full of shit.  There isn’t really anything else we can do if he doesn’t want to change, except just being there for him and show him support.

He thrives on being alone.  He uses the feeling of loneliness to fuel him in his quest to complete nothing with his life.  He stands for all of the things that I'm against, yet we are so close to another.  His motives are lacking and he strives to succeed in nothing, yet I feel a certain connection to him.

We’re completely opposite from one another, but it’s easy to see myself slipping down the same path and turn into him.  It’s scary, but it’s possible.  That’s what happens when we’re the same.  I am him, and he is me, but we’re completely different.