“Heroin enters the brain very quickly. This effect makes it very addictive. And each time you use heroin, the more you need to get high. One of the greatest risks with this drug is how extremely easy it is to become dependent.”
As we lay in the bed that you tumbled into almost an hour ago, shaking and sweating, I cradle your head in my arms with your face against my stomach. I’m sitting with my back against your undecorated, cold, bare wall, literally and figuratively. I run my fingers delicately through your hair, which by the way is getting longer than I’m used to seeing. I can tell that you haven’t had it cut in quite a while; just another reminder of how you no longer care about anything, especially yourself. I glance around your tiny room that used to be a utility closet. You haven’t lived here for long, but as you put it, it’s somewhere you can lay your head at night. There aren’t any photographs or anything personal to let someone know that a living, breathing human being lives in here. It makes me think of your old room; the one where we spent long days and even longer nights loving each other desperately. That room had life; you would find photographs and posters on the wall, love notes strewn across your dresser, various movies that we had “watched” but had never actually seen because we were too busy watching each other, and a box full of nostalgic treasures underneath your bed. That room had a heartbeat. The room we are in now is an empty, dead corpse.
When you called me, my heart dropped down to my stomach, then slowly liquefied, oozing down to the ends of my toes. We hadn’t spoken in months. Of course, I kept up with you through mutual friends and the double-edged sword known as social media (Myspace, at the time). I knew you had moved and found a new set of friends, a new job, and, more importantly, drugs. You had essentially morphed into a completely different person. I can’t say, looking back, that it surprises me. We were both teenagers, trying on different personalities to see which one fit the best, just as a girl at a retail store might do when trying on a new dress. However, I never imagined that you would go down this path.
“I need you. I know we haven’t talked and you don’t love me anymore, but please. I need you.”
Within minutes, I was in my beat-up thunderbird, driving like a maniac to get to you. I didn’t know why you needed me. I didn’t know what to expect when I pulled up in your driveway. I just knew that you needed me. That’s all it took for me to drop everything and run to you.
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