"I relapsed" the blue bubble passes across the screen.
"I'm afraid I might lose you"
At least I know you are alive to send this message. That is little consolation though. I had finally put two and two together. I am surprised that it took me so long. All the hits were there. The faint smell of alcohol. The long list of excuses of why you could not hang out. Unfortunately, my self esteem is so low at times I completely began to wonder what was wrong with ME.
"I know" I push send. I am a sentence too late.
I know, I knew, I don't know what to say.
"I am here for you". Whatever that means.
How could I have missed it? I am not sure. Heroin strikes again. That fucking bitch. Haven't you killed enough of my friends? Haven't you taken enough from me? My freedom, my lovers, a big chunk of my life. Even the acknowledgement that yes, heroin is involved, brings on a new wave of sorrow. I am the "queen" of harm reduction. What the fuck am I supposed to do?
"I love you" I click send.
I love you means many things. It doesn't mean I can trust this. It doesn't mean I can just trust that life is going to work this out somehow. You know what? I am fucking afraid. I am fucking angry. I am afraid that this fucking drug is going to take you like it has taken so many other people I loved. I feel tricked. I feel lied to. I feel slightly jealous- I would LOVE a fat hit to take away my problems for a brief moment. Fuck, I feel very very afraid. I am spinning with anxiety and fear. This wasn't supposed to happen to me. Not me. Not again. Not now.
I normally write sweeping personal narratives about my life as a user. They are sad, entertaining, and true. I never thought I would write about how heroin keeps fucking me over- over and over again. I will never get away from this drug. It follows me every where I go. Maybe this person will live. Maybe they will die. I don't have any answers. I just know this hurts.
This is a composite of a few different relationships.