When I first met Cyrrhus the Great, we were both in high school. We were around the same grade, although he’d been held back. He was around six foot five inches tall and had the body of a college athlete. He was naturally inclined to dominate in every sport and he did so without difficulty. I say ‘without difficulty’, but the only issue for him was with maturity. He could dunk without a problem; he could run faster than anyone on the field and snatch the ball out of the sky before the defender knew what was happening, but he just couldn’t keep from getting into trouble.
He performed tremendous feats of strength that if we hadn’t seen no one would believe. He infected several girls with STDs. He performed crude acts of attrition to impress his peers. He got several girls pregnant before escaping his twenties. Smoked a lot of weed… not that it’s an indicator of character, it’s just nobody talks about the effects it has on a person who’s looking to escape. It provides it sometimes with such efficiency that they get lost in their own hangups.
I don’t know where he is now… time can do a lot to a person. It can change you, but nobody discusses what happens when people stay the same. They never change, clinging to dreams from which they never wake up. I hope, for his sake it did something better. Sometimes, even if a person appears to be blessed, it ends up a curse. Cursed with so much potential, we think Cyrrhus the Great was predisposed to squander it all. I think he never knew what to do.
I wasn’t able to see it in then, but looking back I can count the sorrow on his face. I notice his youthful, dull, unresponsive eyes. We were all immature, but his was willful. There was a bright person under that guise of insignificance. He has not the wherewithal to deny the pressure created by his friends; he has many, because he’s athletic and funny and says everything they want to hear. Like the sun, they gravitate to him. Like the sun, those around him keep him in place. He remains grounded, when he should be lifted, pushed out into the cosmos to drift beyond eternity. Instead, here he stays. Because he seemed ‘Great’, we assume he’s immune to this infection. We made ourselves believe that he was something more. Looking back, it becomes hard to tell which of us was the bigger fool.