Trigger Warning: Drug Use

Welcome Back to all my Fellow Warriors: 

Scene: 

Warmer weather brought May colours from flowers blossoming all over the small village… villagers, both good and evil, happily waved at one another…fake smiles pasted on their pasty faces, phones all abuzz pasted in their hands… life is waking up, for summer is about to shine again. 

I messaged Him on Facebook so many times that he probably should have gotten a restraining order. He never once messaged back. 

I tell Him how amazing he is… I tell Him to remember that one day he will be a Star… I tell Him that I will always be here for him… I tell Him that I will wait forever… I tell Him that nothing he could do could make me love him less… I tell Him… without saying the exact words …

…He can do anything he wants and I will still be happy to be here whenever he so chooses, if ever, to pay attention to me again, and that, there is nothing in this world that he could ever do to me that is unforgivable…

I believed that was unconditional love. 

I believed that was true love. 

I believed that was what he needed… someone to show that no matter what, they would be there for him. 

Maybe that’s what I needed. Someone to just be there through thick and thin. Someone to just stay. Someone to love me even when I made a mistake. Someone to call me back when I hung up. Someone to show up for me. 

This had gone on for months. Until I found a new love interest… that turned out to be, in fact, just a very hot guy who was in love with himself… and eventually, not Him. However, this is the pivotal weekend… I met this beautiful… young man… we immediately intertwined with each other… we immediately were inseparable. 

He came to my place that night. With his pyjamas… (which I found out later… was actually his birthday suit…)… he planned to stay awhile. 

He was sober. I was sober. 

He was beautiful. He was loud. He was incessantly proficient at producing an effect on me that was seductive enough for me to give in to his every desire. 

Within an hour… we had crack. 

An hour after that… we had booze.

This was Friday night. 

The weekend was INSANITY. 

…BEYOND WORDS…

The new guy was gone Monday morning… 

The crack cravings weren’t… 

May, read the month on the calendar. May. It had been one month since that Lust Affair Weekend that re-started my love affair with the tiny rock I put in my pipe that unfortunately nobody and nothing else on the planet could come close to, as far as, need, and want, and love go for me. 

Waking up to another warm afternoon… first thing I do is hit my pipe. Look at my phone… the middle of June already. Hit my pipe again… and again… and once more because it’s so hot… it’s then I get another craving… for a different drug. One I haven’t had in a while. This craving is so overwhelming that I’m starting to get restless. 

I pick up my phone… I put it back down. 

I get up. 

I sit down. 

I hit my pipe. 

I pick up my phone. 

I turn on the tv. 

I put my phone down. 

I turn the music up. 

I hit my pipe. 

I get lost inside myself for hours. 

I find my phone in the fridge. 

I feel that craving so fucking bad. 

I need this other drug now. 

I can’t stop myself. 

I write out the message. 

I put down my phone. 

I hit my pipe … again … again … again … again … I have to sit down. 

Somewhere my phone is buzzing.

I can hear it. 

I find it in my bedroom under the dresser. 

I can’t see anything… am I blind?

The lights are off…

The phone keeps buzzing. 

I’m kinda scared. 

I hit my pipe. 

Finally… I can see… I drop my phone… 

It’s HIM. 

I can read … 

HEY BABES! 

YES, COME OVER! 

WHAT TIME YOU COMIN?

What?! What’s happening?! Come over where?! Yes to what?! … my mind is floating… my imagination is running wild… I slowly and carefully open the messages… 

I sent him a message first… of course… buttttt… HE ANSWERED… this time he answered. 

The time between then and actually getting to His place is a complete and total blur. Hours of blur. 

Then…

Sitting looking out the taxi window…

 Blue eyes stalking through the front yard froze me into place… 

Photo flashes in front of my eyes… 

He’s helping me out of the cab…

FLASH…

He’s helping me down rickety stairs…

FLASH…

I’m focused on that half-grin of his…

FLASH…

Hitting my pipe…

FLASH…

He’s laying on a mattress on the floor… gazing up at me… I down at him… his smile is my drug… that craving though, still not completely satisfied…

FLASH…

So many people around…

FLASH…

I’m hitting a crystal pipe now…

FLASH…

It’s too loud…

FLASH… 

There’s a fight happening… 

FLASH…

He’s in the fight…

FLASH 

Hit my pipe…

FLASH…

We are leaving?… I thought this was His place?… Where are we going?… 

FLASH…

We are at my place. He has taken my pipe, my dope, and sobered me up. He is sober. The fight was probably my fault. He doesn’t tell me. He tells me I need sleep. He tells me I need food. 

He tells me I need help. Real help. 

I deny all of the above. Demand my dope and my pipe back…

He brings me into my bedroom… lays me down… holds me tight… starts whispering wonderful things in my ear… I have no idea how long it was before I slept… I have no idea how many times I woke up screaming for Him, for Him to reply he was right there and continue to whisper in my ear… I don’t know how long he held me before I was finally quiet and he could sleep too. I slept. He held me. We slept. 

He gave me a reasonable request. Go to rehab and he would stay. Keep this up and he would have to go. Just get on a list to go to rehab …. And He would stay. 

I responded by getting a pipe out & demanding my dope back. 

He gave it back. 

He kissed my forehead. 

I hit my pipe. 

He walked out my door. 

I didn’t care. 

He knocked on the door. 

I opened it. 

He came back in. 

Just one thing he wanted: 

   “Please go to rehab…”

I stared at him … for what seemed like hours … time stood still… sweat poured from everywhere… I could still taste my last hit… 

I had never chosen anything over dope before … 

It was a choice I didn’t know how to make… 

He stood there looking back at me… eyes sad… soul heavy… 

His phone buzzed… 

He read the text…

Looked up… 

Then… 

He was gone. 

I never got to answer…

I never got to make the choice…

My phone buzzed… of course it did …

 …”Go to rehab and I’ll stay”…

                       HIM

I hit my pipe…

He never answered me again. 

Not even when I messaged on November 8 to say I was leaving for rehab. 

ALWAYS GOT YOUR BACK 

ANGEL WARRIOR 1THOUSAND