Day 25/7 - "Dr. Jeykell and his friend (Part 1)"

Monday, 18 December 2006 - Day 25/7 - "Dr. Jeykell and his friend (Part 1)"

I lost my love. My love that gave me those mind boggling experiences that left me begging for more. The love that occupied me from daybreak to sunset and haunted me when I closed my eyes at night. My love that begged me to leave everything behind and disappear starting a life somewhere else - never looking back. Just me and my love – heroin – together forever!

I lost my love. The love that came so close to me through the lies and pretenses I couldn’t see. Pushing me away from my family, my friends – until only one remained. My best friend GM.

We knew each other long before heroin ever came into the equation. We spend almost every day together and had infinite mutual fun that could fill many books. I always felt protected knowing he had my back and I had his. Together we could overcome any obstacle – that is, until we became each other’s obstacle!

I’ll never forget the first day GM told me he injected heroin. We both smoked heroin before and he mentioned a few times how he would like to inject it. I never warmed up to the idea. All my life I was anti-heroin and although I had broken my own rule and smoked it I would never inject it. Never say never, right! I was so hurt and disappointed at the news. He knew how I felt about it and despite what it could do to our friendship he went ahead with it anyway. He left my mind harassed for weeks, wondering what I would do: Would I stick around with my best friend or would I keep with my original plan to never be friends with a heroin user. He was my best friend, so I stuck around!

The question that will hover in this blog, in my life, in my mind for many years to come is what when through my head the first time I took heroin with my friend. Was I the curious one, bored with the pills, papers, powders. Tired of the existence refered to as my consistent life or excited by the prospects of the forbidden, the exotic – the devil. I was oblivious to the warnings, not noticing the signs that lay like track marks apon the arms that was my life. My reasoning for that day I locked away in a box to which the key is now lost. I’ll never remember what exactly I was thinking. And seeing as I can’t change it now – I guess it doesn’t really matter, does it?!

Part 2 continues...