I hated being a junkie more.
Why couldn’t I quit you?
Fentanyl is the newest white devil.
We were spending at least $200 a day, and still waking up sick 3 hours after our last shot.
Suboxone did nothing.
One day, before 6 am work, we were so sick that we each took 3 subs.
Had to leave work to score.
I push all of this from my mind all of the time.
I push the people I’d met, the sorrow I’d seen and even the love i’d felt down.
Minds are tricky.
After a year and almost a half I feel like I’m ready to categorize my experiences or at least my memory of them.
I don’t miss whisky drunk you throwing couches at me, crying, running away and sleeping under steps.
I don’t miss lying and cheating and overcharging and-
I don’t miss tossing and turning.
I don’t miss the waiting.
I don’t miss who I became.
Like all terrible things, in the beginning it was fun and easy.
It ripped us all apart.
I’ve been so busy rebuilding that I never mourned the pieces I can not have back.