My dad used to use a particular phrase to describe my mom’s brother:
“Live fast. Die young. Have a good-looking corpse.”
He was - is - different from them. Real “rebel without a cause” type. I had stars in my eyes over him as a kid. I thought he was so cool. He didn’t give a shit and I loved that. I felt like I understood something in him. My perception of him was that he wasn’t afraid of anything. Wasn’t afraid to die. He took a lot of risks. I wanted to be a rebel just like him. I wanted to be a fucking badass.
I perceive him differently now.
I don’t want to be like him anymore.