“Tru, honey. Oh my god… I didn’t…” cutting him off as I don’t want fake pity. I don’t want anything but my old life back. The life where no one knew who I was, and no one cared. I hid away and I liked the lonely. It was my friend. Now, this new life, as the rap devil’s fuck is hurting me more than they will ever know.
“Mike, I gotta go, ok? I have an AA meeting. Today I need it more than I ever have.”
“Tru, please stay.” He says and I can’t even think of what to say. A few seconds pass by with just silence. “Tru, you there?” He cuts through the stillness dancing in my brain.
“Yeah, Mike. I can’t fight, and I can’t promise anything,” I say to him. “I’ll talk to you later,” I push out through gritted teeth as a second call comes through. Looking at the screen its Jayden for fuck’s sake.
Hanging up on them both, I can’t do this shit. Not today and well not ever. This isn’t what I signed up for.
Pulling my beanie onto my head and threading my arms into my black winter jacket I walk from my apartment. I have since invested in black mesh curtains, so I don’t have to look directly into his penthouse. So, all the memories don’t assault me as much when I look over.
Heading to AA is my safe place and Blair has become my strength in addiction and in Jayden as he is an addiction in itself. Sitting in the circle I listen to the stories and I hear the truths and the pain. The lies our bodies tell ourselves to make us have one more taste, one more hit, one more… it’s always just one more. The way an addict reasons with its conscience is remarkable. I do it daily. I always say no, I won’t. But I do. I will scroll through his accounts and watch him. I will look at the news stations following him on tour and the cities that he is in. I will always fall and follow.
It’s like I am now reasoning with the devil to not get high on him. And drugs… he is a drug though and Aerosmith had it right when they sang,
‘I could spend my life in this sweet surrender, I could stay lost in this moment forever.’
Jayden James makes me wanna stay lost in all that is him. Mike rings and leaves me messages. I don’t answer so then he texts, and I read them. Jayden calls on the nights where he’s alone and has no one laying close to him. High, taking all that is him and then some. The boys call and tell me, he’s a mess without you, Tru. We haven’t seen him this bad before. All I do is close my eyes and wish that it was all a lie.
He chose this road.
He chose to leave me while he was kissing them, fucking them, getting high with the devil to spite the demon.
I lost something I never really had, yet it fucking hurts just as bad. My mind is at war with my heart and the room falls away from me as I fall further into the vortex that is Jayden.
He’s like a ritual that my mind goes on and my body relishes in the sin of the journey.
Saying a silent amen as my eyes meet Blairs he is clicking his fingers in front of my face shaking out the deadly illusion that was loving Jayden. They say that if you ever wanna die, fall in love, you’ll get killed.
“Sorry, what’s up?” I say to him. “Wow, Tru, you were somewhere deep,” He says looking worried.
“I’m ok, Blair,” I say to him, looking around at all my sober companions drinking coffee. I feel like I am cheating on them with a drug that’s unshareable. “Tru, are you sure? You have been lost in your head for weeks now.” His hand reaches for my shoulder. His touch hurts as it’s not the hands I wish for.
“My heart was shattered 2 weeks ago by a guy who I never really had. He belongs to the world and no matter what, I couldn’t hold onto him,” I say to him bluntly, standing and making my way to the small kitchen pouring a cup as he walks in behind me.
“I got my hopes up,” I whispered to him as I took a sip, turning as he spoke, “About what?” Locking eyes with him I reply, “About him actually loving me back.” I hit him with it like a sucker punch. It takes the air from my lungs as his eyes widen and truth sets in. No more smoke screens, no more mirrors. “They, we all come here to tell you our sins. Preacher can you take this sin?” I question him. “Loving an addict while I am an addict. Now, I have swapped one addiction for another.” My tone is low yet loaded with questions needing his strength to answer. He is the preacher of all that is holy, and I need a little God today. “I held a bottle of pills in my hand last night. I begged my soul to allow my thumb to unscrew the lid and let those little white pills numb all the haunts and pain.” My fiery stare is meeting the ice of his. He is great at not allowing his eyes to show you exactly what’s going on inside.
“You are human, Tru. We all are allowed to make mistakes and fall it’s how we overcome and get back up,” he says reaching for me. “Well fucking Amen,” I say into his deep blue eyes. Placing my cup down I walk from the hall and his eyes that are burning into the back of me. I feel it like a flame of hell licking up my spine.
He can’t save me, neither can the god he prays to. I know what I need to do. I need to walk with the demon to get to the devil.
Walking into my apartment, it’s lonely and empty. I have nothing. I look around twisting and turning taking it all in. There is absolutely nothing inside. No photos of friends. No snap shots of times spent together. No laughing or dancing pics. I have nothing because I have no one. No photos of siblings, no parents, no family photos. Just a black and white photo of my grandfather that I had blown up. Huge and stretched over a canvas that hangs in the middle of the only full wall in my home. The rest of the images that dot around my home are just black and white flowers.
I am a boring mess of a human whom has no one and nothing. Lost all to the winds of addiction. I drowned them all and didn’t even notice till it was too late, and they were all dead to me anyway. Or should I rephrase that, I am dead to them. Their words, not mine. Refusing a treatment facility and help will kinda do that to ya. It fractures the unit and dynamics of their power and love. Taking their trust and hopes for a better you - a fixed you - with it, leaving no choice but to cut all ties. Burn the string and empty the feelings bank. You are now emotionally overdrawn and in debt to addiction.
Unscrewing the lid from a bottle of Jack, I need something stronger than cider to numb this type of pain. Knowing that tonight will be the start of the end and I will slip back into old habits where I will no doubt die young.
Falling onto the couch in my lounge room after a shower and a whole bottle of Jack I am now on my second bottle and second pack of smokes. The bottle ofXanax akabenzo’s (benzodiazepine), sitting on the coffee table. I lay on my side in the fetal position, of course. No other way to be when you are playing with fire while looking your fate in the eye. Your brain screams no but your heart screams yes. Who am I to deny my heart.
The doctor today did in fact prescribe them to me not knowing my addictive past but seeing the anxiety filled human who shook and cried inside his office.
Fuck it! I flick the cap as I unscrew the lid on the Jack. I take two pills out of the orange bottle and place them on the top of my tongue. Looking toward the heavens out in the dark night beyond the black mesh curtains I installed to block out his apartment and him, I say,
“Sorry Grandad for I am about to sin.” I close my eyes and down the pills with Jack. As soon as they slide down my throat my phone rings, its Jayden, of course it’s Jayden. Closing my eyes, I blow out a deep breath and just let it ring. I panic, scared that he knows, that he can see what I just did. Not that he would give a fuck. He would probably ask me for some even though I know pills aren’t his thing. He said that he thinks they are ugly and there is a way better high than that from pills. Pills are for wanna be addicts. I laugh now at the thought, the image, the fucked up-ness of it all.
This is a nightmare and I wanna wake up.
My body finally became calm. My brain, oh baby, my brain is quiet for the first time in so long. Nothing is inside screaming as I lay here wrapped inside my favourite blanket looking at the bottle of Jack and spilled bottle of pills. I am in a stunning, sedated elation and it’s quite euphoric and well, beautiful. Lifting my hand and twirling it around in front of me it blurs like a car passing by in the city lights too fast. It’s a hum of shooting, blurry mess. Gone is the responsible human. The edge of panic and anxiety is replaced by a fluffy cloud of pure beauty. Being high is electric, it’s quite indescribable. My brain has begun to suppress all the fear, the worries, the danger and the reality. It makes you feel free like you’re a shining diamond way up high outside your body. I just wish that it would suppress Jayden James from my mind. It doesn’t though, it heightens him… us. The feelings that could be love. He still walks inside my mind, the memories slamming into the frontal lobe and burning its mark inside my brain like a brand, branding my soul and shattering my heart. Causing my heart to hurt as my body hums high on benzo and Jack, yet I am still reminded something is missing.
