May I be your protector?

Disclosure Statement: I have never and will never use a needle or heroin.

That’s what I thought I was signing up for the first time I saw you stick a needle in your vein. I remember in my ignorance that I googled a vein map for your arm because well, you’re a bigger dude and I really didn’t want you to miss and die right in front of me. I was naive that I didn’t realize what I was being. I was enabling you. I was enabling the downfall of your life right in front of my eyes and I didn’t know it. The millisecond that you told me you were using heroin, I should have told or done something, ANYTHING, to help. I didn’t though. My thought process was you were going to use anyways. I might as well make sure you don’t kill yourself while doing it. Be there so if something happens I can get you help right when it happened.

I’m sorry Paul for what I did. I wasn’t a friend.

You are my heart though. Somewhere along the way I learned. I learned that I had to cut you off and stay away from you. Then you told me one day “Silly, Kayla If I do die wouldn’t you have rather spent as much time with me as you could have then just remove me completely?” He was right. SO right. So I spent more time with him after he overdosed. He told us all he was going to stop, he did not. We expected that. Then it got worse. Worse than we had all expected. Everyday, ¬†multiple times a day because he wasn’t getting high anymore he just didn’t want to withdrawal.

You became someone that I couldn’t, still can’t lose. I begged for you in whatever shred of hope I had in a god that you wouldn’t keep doing this to everyone who loves you. To yourself. You always reassured as you weren’t too bad. Every call I got in the middle of the night I thought it was going to be a call telling me you were dead. You danced with the devil and were amused by every moment of it. As I sat here and bared it all on my shoulders. I felt every ounce of the weight of your pain on my shoulders. I was dealing with an addict boyfriend at the time too that I don’t need to go into detail about in this story.

You have done things to hurt me and the people around you that you love intentionally and unintentionally so many times. You were begging for your death; you are the only person I’ve ever met not scared of death at all. The first time I saw you use meth in front of our mutual friend who is a recovering meth addict I hated you. She hated you. I couldn’t let you go though. Even though she did for her better well being.

The point is I never gave up and that didn’t make a difference that I know of except with myself. What I do know is that you are three months sober whether that may be willingly or unwillingly I am proud of you and I love you. I can’t wait for the day I get to wrap my arms around you and never let go.

 

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