| Subject: My love and his addiction |
Author:
AlisMalice
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Date Posted: 17:31:50 12/16/03 Tue
For a year I have missed my best friend, who takes every drug under the sun, apart from speed and Heroin (I hope). I love him and I cry every other night hoping, waiting, believing that one-day he will sort himself out and he will come back to me. My arms are open to him, and that is how he’ll find me.
But this is purely a dream of a broken heart. I speak of him like a woman scorned by a lover, but far from the truth is this. We were in love, but in a purely platonic way. I was his rock, and he my security. He supported me like no other has, he knew me like no other without having to say a word. Now a guilty glance and a lump of hash are all that is ever between us.
The photograph of him and I before a gig we played a couple of years ago in his wallet has been replaced with a small rectangular mirror to snort cocaine off of.
I stopped this happening twice before (and that is why I am his Rock) but I should have done something to stop him being engulfed in this drugs culture, but I was too rapped up in my own life to realise the third time it happened.
He still loves me, and he misses me I know he does, but he cannot pull himself out of the psychosis hole he has created for himself.
I wish that no one else has to go through the pain that I am, but I know they do.
I worry because I care, and I hurt because I worry.
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