The Life of Baxter Bennet

Chapter 1: Contemplation

Sometimes I want to live forever and become an old man watching everyone around me grow older and become old men and women along side of me. I want to watch my niece grow into a wonderful, sweet, happy woman. I want to see my sister married and happy. I want to go to my parents service and give support where it is needed. I want to watch everyone I know become beautiful orchids. I want to be there for their ups and their downs. I want to see my mother happily married and my father in love again. I want to spend time with my family and not be so distant. I want to live long and die with no regrets.

Sometimes I want to run to my younger self and tell him to know his family, and tell everyone he cares. To make the bonds that he yearns to acquire from them and state his love for them. Tell them they mean the world to him and to stop placing resentment towards them due to his own issues. I wish I had that advice. Instead I watched them decay around me as I grew older and couldn't make up for the past separation. Instead it took me half a lifetime to figure out how much they truly mean. How much I appreciate and love them.

There are times I don't feel nearly as optimistic. I often imagine myself being at a much younger age. Younger than I, myself, am now reaching. I often reflect on thoughts that cycle through my mind, yet filling in how it would be, come of my absence. How my family, and friends would have dealt with situations if I was not alive to give my input. I often ponder where anyone would be if they found I had passed away and left my corpse for them to attend to. I think how my niece would grow up hearing about her uncle she hardly remembers. How my mother and my father would have to embrace the heartbreak of their child lying a mere 6 feet under the flourishing land that rest above me.

I rest my thoughts on my sister, in which whom I adore. Cassandra, what would you have done if you found the news that your baby brother you used to beg for had been found deceased? What would you have done, come to find he was no longer among the living? And my grandparents, how would they overcome the tragedy of their beloved grandson's death? Oh so many lives would have never been the same. My friends whom I meet every day. My family members that are accustomed to my presence. My past loves that all keep a tender pocket of emotions for me. The teachers I befriended in not so many years prior. The family friends I had known a majority of my life.

Breathless and cold; still and petrified; alone in a black shroud with no sound, no emotion. An existence of no memory, no cognitive ability, no love, or sadness, nor pain. A shroud that leaves you as an entity, hallow and alone. Nowhere to go, lost in nothing. Lost in your soul. Is this death I think? Is this what I would be if I was never to have reached the point of life I see before me? Would I be lost forever in a reality that I could not comprehend? Would I be trapped in nowhere --- in nothing?

Living in a world of optimism as an old man seems to be one general hope that I have witnessed quit frequently. To be happy with the life they have adventured, and the love they have cherished. I too have dreamed of this, oh so many times. How I could enjoy a life with no regrets, and memories of hopeful --- wonderful moments in time. I too yearn for such a glorious perspective. I envy the thought, and emotion that must occupy an individual with such pride filled cheer.

To live the life through to an old, humble gentleman; or to have died so young --- so juvenile? Would the death of me have bettered the lives of those around me, and those I've met since a time of my own demise? Would my death have been a better outcome for those I had trusted, and cared for? Madness to think of such dark thoughts of a life I have already lived. To acquire such scenarios that in a mind is plausible due to the theory of multiverse; is this not considered insanity? Yet they work through my mind as if it was nothing more than a daily routine.

I used to imagine a life no longer than twenty five. Working on a degree for the practice of Psychiatry, enrolled in the military elite. I imagined no love, no hope, not a shread of happiness. Oh how I longed for death to sweep me off my feet swiftly, and cascade me into that dark oblivion of nothing. Take me far away from reality and leave everyone in wonder on why me. Why out of everyone me, Baxter Bennet? I did no wrong. I was humble, respectful, kind, and selfless. Why would death take me? "The good die young" is what my friend told me once. Either die a good man, or live long enough to see yourself become corrupt, and horrid. Shall that beacon of shrouds take me before I succumb to such depths? Shall I be taken before I too see myself become a bitter entity of negativity, and hatred? Why him? Why would they take Baxter to the golden gates described in the Lord's book? Why should he be extracted from our lives so soon ---- so young?

These very same thoughts still echo within the walls of my cranium. Even now, a man hardly the age of thirty four, I still remember those sinister voices whispering to me. It's been nearly a decade since I was in such a place; and yet, still, they caress my every day contemplations. Do I still beg for the day I am to leave this world? Do I still wonder if I should be here and continue interacting with the living? I am baffled by the split in my head. Old, humble, gentle man whom everyone knows and adores? Still young, incomplete, never to see what my decisions have come to present in my future? Shall I be asking death to take me while I am still adored, and depended on? Oh the thoughts ---- the decisions. Waiting patiently for the time of my end tends to arouse my curiosity. It forces the twisted thoughts I have dealt with for so many years to continue acquiring such deformed delusions. Delusions; is that all this may be? May I be so torn within myself that I had become delusional along the stride?

The elderly is well respected, and treasured. Is this what I have been longing for my entire life? Have I been so self absorbed my entire existence to have the meager, superficial satisfaction of being treasured? Has the saga of Baxter Bennet only been on the subconscious track of being admired? Death in either situation would end in all whom have been present in my life reflecting on me. Is that my goal? How could I be so conceded, so churlish, so immature to only ask for such a request? Though I haven't this may be what I have always intended to attain. Could I be so hallow? No, I cannot believe in such foolishness. I have created bonds not for my death, but for my life. Impossible for it to have been for my remembrance. An old man to watch everyone he knows wither away and leave me to live. This has to be my destiny, my chosen path. Why would I want to be remembered? Simply another gentleman I am. Not a hero, not a treasure, but an average gentleman whom lives his life such as any other.

Still, these images continue to contradict one another. Young, military man whom is achieving his education to create a structure for the upcoming years of his life that he so naively believes not to be touched by the icy hands of reality; hoping for it to be ripped from him regardless. Old, wise, patient gentleman that has lived through devastation; optimistically spewing out encouragement, faith, and lending a hand where it is most needed. Live long and Gamble the thought of me becoming cruel, and repulsive to those within the vicinity of my very presence. Die young knowing I have fixed my wrongs, and uplift any whom I encounter with problems that I assure can be resolved. Die as a good man, or live long enough to watch myself become a disgrace?