Even after all this, nothing really changes. There is only today for me, only really this moment of time for me to exist in or attempt to manipulate. Events happen, or don’t. I get lost and fearful if i go anywhere in the future in my head. And being lost or confused inevitably leads to anger which leads to wall-building and relationship-sabotage which then results in me being alone in the world and this woman is much happier and much kinder when i am not in a bubble.
Last night I heard from the wife of another man in our circle who pushed the final button on his hope for a life on the Outside. I had been observing and fearing that he was getting high again for a few months. seeing the writing on the FB wall, as it were, but hoping it was not so, that the coffin was not yet in the ground.
She told me that she finally had proof and confronted him and he put her in the hospital with broken ribs. Hes been on the streets for three weeks now. Its only a matter of time, and he just gave 17 years of his life to the Feds. She knew him, wrote him, fell in love with him, married him. And he may well have loved her back. But then he got sucked right back into that game that leads to misery and hate, and has no place for love.
I know how it feels to lose my man to a needle, to the game, to the whole thing. I have no comfort to offer this woman. I see in her only my own very possible future. Meth is a mother fucker. I may say that I know what I am dealing with this time, which is not true, not at all.
What I know, based on hard won experience with loss and murder and overdoses and deceit is that I KNOW NOTHING. As long as I keep that solid in the front of my brain I might stand a chance at defending myself should that dark beast come lurking again, and try to get into my arm or my home or my love.
All I know is that on that road I can not trust any one. Not my blood, not family, not my self.
Time goes on and I watch brothers and friends try to build for themselves a life that makes sense on the outside and they fail. What in this world makes me think that I am the special one? That Dennis and I have such a big love that we can outmaneuver the addiction that informs us, that informs all of life around us?
I despair of ever feeling safe or comfortable again. Not clean, in a society that makes no sense to me. and God knows, not getting high.


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