It. Some people have it, some don't. The "it" factor is undefined. It refers to a personal radiance that surpasses looks alone. It is part charisma, but not entirely that. We often say they just have "something" that turns every head when they walk into the room.
David had "it." I could show you photographs, but they don't do him justice; they capture his good looks, but they don't quite capture "it." It was in his smile, his movements, his pose, his attitude -- all of these things combined together, things you can't capture in a photograph.
His smile melted his admirers, turning them into putty. When he walked into crowded rooms, I could see every eye drawn to him.
For several years he was my closest friend. Every day we talked on the phone for at least an hour or two. I knew every aspect of his life. One night we met at a party and went to his house, and I just sat with him until early morning. He talked; I listened. He must have told me everything that night alone.
I also knew about his curse. You see, "it" was his curse.
As astounding as it sounds to those of us without "it", David felt damned. He wanted one thing more than anything else: he simply wanted someone to love him. He didn't want someone attracted to his looks. He didn't want someone merely drawn to his "it" factor. He wanted people to see him for who he was. He wanted them to love him for something much deeper.
He never felt sure that any of his suitors loved him. And the one person who really did love him never said a word, afraid to complicate David's life further. It was better to be there for him, to support him and be his counsel.
David never knew how to approach the person he loved. He played coy and tried to create a scenario to force a declaration by announcing a new relationship. That caused the opposite reaction than the one he wished for: instead, the person he loved backed away, caring too much for him to interfere if he found someone who made him happy.
David moved across country to pursue this new relationship, but his unhappiness grew deeper. He was plagued by doubts that anyone could actually love him. They wanted his looks; they wanted "it."
His calls grew more frequent. Two or three times a day, for an hour, two hours, sometimes three or four hours. His pain was real. His doubts were real. His job took him away from home for several days per week. And one day he went home to discover he was being cheated on. Every doubt he had was confirmed.
We spent hours on the phone that afternoon. I stayed on with him as long as he wanted. After three hours he said he had to go. A few hours later he called back. He had been drinking. We talked for two more hours, then he said he had to hang up. I promised him we would talk in the morning.
At 4 a.m. the phone rang again. There was no hesitation to answer. If he needed to talk, I'd be there for him.
It wasn't David. Instead, it was the cheating partner calling. "I'm calling because I realized that no one else would think of telling you. David shot himself a couple of hours ago and died. I know how much you meant to him, and him to you, and I didn't think his family would think to call you."
More was said, but I don't remember it. I know there was a horrifying sound that scared me -- it was coming from me.
The next several days didn't exist for me, quite literally. Early in the morning friends came to my home; one went to the chemist and came back with some sedatives -- prescription laws there are not the same as in the U.S. The sedatives literally knocked me out. That is how it was for three days. The sedative would wear off, I'd awake, relive it all over again, and take another one. I slept for those days, until friends drove me to the funeral home in Pretoria. I had to see him, just to make it all real to myself.
I walked into the empty viewing room. None of David's admirers were there. It was just me and his body lying in the casket. I remembered his jokes about dying young and leaving a good-looking corpse. They didn't seem very funny to me. I looked at his face. "It" was gone; "it" had left with his life. The face was the same, the body was the same, but "it" had vanished. And so had he.
There are times when I see someone who clearly has "it." I see the admirers flocking around them. For those who qualify as celebrities, the paparazzi follow them everywhere. And like most other people, I find that a bit of jealousy creeps in. I start to wonder why they should have "it" when most of us are "it"-deficient. There is no fairness to "it." There is no concept of justice, or redistribution of "it." There can't be. But David always comes to mind, and then I have to wonder if these people are so lucky after all. David would have traded all of "it" for the surety of knowing that people saw beyond "it," that they saw deeper than what drew their attention. My deepest regret is never making it clear to him that one person had.
If you are tempted to take your own life, please talk to the our friends at the Trevor Project, 866-488-2386. Your act will destroy more than just your own life.
Oddly they think their hate and resentment of David, for having something they value and want for themselves, but don't have, disproves what I was saying. I argue the unwarranted remarks they make actually proves what I was saying.
You say that people are being bitchy and bitter towards your friend, because they know nothing about him. "They jump to conclusionÂs based, not on evidence they have or knowledge (since they actually have none of either)" Sorry, but people only know what you said in your piece. Of course they didn't know him. All we've to go on is your description. I've read your piece a couple times, and all I know about David from your description is that he had 'it.' I also get that you still hold guilt we all do when dealing with a suicide. That feeling-If only we'd said something differently, had been there, we could've saved that person's life. I've been there. I still wonder 'what if?' and it always hurts.
I also don't think most of these people resent or are jealous of David's beauty or it factor. In my case, I see it as not being grateful for something you have. Most people would kill to have 'it', whatever it is. To waste that is sad for not only the person who wastes it, but those he left behind. What I think people resent is that he wasted what he had for a selfish act. Cheers and I hope you find your peace someday.
I would agree that our society does place a social premium on physical attractiveness. This does allow some people to gain access in certain social circles without possessing or developing other wise requisite intelligence, social skills, or accomplishment. Some folks skate by on their good looks instead of developing their non physical attributes and coping skills.
The real issue here is mental illness and availability of mental healthcare services.
It is truly sad that your friend passed.
The long lens of time sometimes makes things more clear and occasionally it obfuscates and allows us to brush away what is unpleasant and replace it with a misty romanticized version of the truth.
Would you have been more forthcoming about your feelings toward your friend if he weren't so physically attractive? Maybe. Would you have cared as much if he were not so attractive? You imply altruism one moment and confess obsession the next. You suggest that your love was better and purer because it outlasted the others, but did it only outlast the others because it was unfulfilled?
Would you have listened to him for hours on the phone if you were not secretly interested in a relationship with him? You seem to imply that you might have been able to save him, if only he knew of your pure undying love for him. You suggest that you possessed that one elusive thing he was grasping for but unable to attain.
Your friend was mentally ill. You imagine that your love could have saved him, but that is unlikely. I trust you that he was a lovely person that was ill used by his lovers, but he chose those lovers. Beautiful people can make good choices or poor choices, but he made those choices.
Your friend was a sick person who also happened to be beautiful.
But boy, there are some really hateful people leaving comments below who actually hate someone who has good looks. They hate them for having what they want. That is an ugly sentiment. It is ugly no matter how good looking they may or may not be. In fact, I would argue that those views make one ugly no matter how good looking they are.
Beautiful people get better jobs, are considered to be BETTER at everything than they actually are, they get the promotions, the get the guy/girl--even this article mentions this young man being surrounded by admirers.
I think the real problem here is that beautiful people are so spoiled...they have so much just handed to them, that they expect EVERYTHING to be that easy. They expect love to be easy, they expect a relationship to be easy...because everything else is, isn't it?
I mean really...killing oneself because a guy cheated on him? Who does that? I'll tell you who DOESN'T do that--a person who doesn't have "it". An ugly person. A person used to being denied, looked over, passed over, rejected. An ugly person who has to work twice as hard to be thought of AT ALL, let alone half as much.
When beauty causes everone around you to hand you everything...the slightest disappointment becomes monumental. That's too bad. But, try living on the other side of those tracks. You have to get pretty tough pretty fast, or you won't have to kill yourself...someone else will be happy to do that for you.
Trust me, I know. I've been butt-ugly my whole life. And that's just the way it is.
Speaking as someone who is quite unattractive: people like this little dramatist need to take a nice big can of "harden the **** up" - I'd far, far rather be in his shoes than my own. Good-looking people are first to be served at restaurants, first to be hired & promoted in jobs, first to be chosen to lead others (irrespective of their skills), first in line for the partner of their choice (whether in the bedroom or the office), first to be idolised and looked up to, and generally first to have other people assume the best of them. They can lie, cheat and steal, and it's ugly people like me who cop the blame. They speak, and the world listens - while I am ignored because I am so much less attractive than them. They beckon, and their quarry moves to them, while I light signal fires that are ignored.
Oh, what a hard life they lead, with all of the advantages being attractive gives them, free for the taking. Poor, poor people. My heart's breaking for them. Really. You'll excuse me if I don't take a break from my daily struggle to get even an inch ahead in life to cry for these people, who persist in believing their advantages to be handicaps.
The point of this article is not to have a pityfest for the pretty people, it's simply saying 'get to know a person, and if someone's hurting, then be there for them.' At least that's what I get out of it.
The point of this article is not to have a pityfest for the pretty people, it's simply saying 'get to know a person, and if someone's hurting, then be there for them.' At least that's what I get out of it.
My point also. Sure there are spoiled, vain, & demanding good-lookers in this world who don't see past themselves- but there are those who were born beautiful (though I see every human as beautiful, it's the heart and soul which truly count) that don't fit into the sterotype placed upon them, who are actually cast aside and/or used because of the perception they don't have any important qualities besides a great reflection in the mirror.
Your last sentence- "Get to know a person, and if someone's hurting, then be there for them."- I agree this is what the article was about. It wasn't dwelling on "Oh poor David, he was so pretty, he had no reason to kill himself." It was that no one in his life (besides the author) truly took time to listen to his heartaches, his sadness, his human side.
With all the hatred and bullying in the world, people killing themselves because they can not bear to hurt so much- we should all take the time to listen if anyone needs us to.
As another ugly duckling, I read this article and couldn't stop shaking my head in disgust. The poor, poor pretty person what a hard life it was. Yes, because having things handed to you right, left and center must be an awful hardship. So thank you for your comment and I totally agree!
Give me a break.
The fact that, because he was perceived as handsome, and that many people in his life did not choose to see deeper than the asthetic, caused much of his sadness. Being around those who did not dig to his deeper surface, who wrote him off as a face (and worthy of nothing more) hurt him in ways he couldn't accept- nor should he have. People can be very superficial, I don't believe the author was babying David's ego while sharing his story- I think he was sharing a painful time, a person loved, & also misunderstood. Many commenters are being as superficial- David didn't think he was special bc he was attractive, people in his life glazed his surface & nothing more. Sad, I've had a similar experience w a friend as well. He passed in 2006.