Im going to try and keep this as simple as possible. I had been on heroin for about, two years. Sometimes I say three years because before that I was doing two 80mg oxycontins everday. No. I wasnt shooting dope up my arm. I was smoking it. I was…probably the most unhappy person that I, myself, have ever even encountered. But, when I was high….it was ok.

Soda and I. We had four years together. Four years…that I am never gonna get back. And, my heart is absolutely broken into a million pieces. Nope, we arent together anymore. I couldnt do it. We had a 140 dollar a day habit. Thats…a lot of money when you make what I make….WHAT I MAKE, seeings as how I was paying for him too. I dont even know how im gonna tell this story because…it doesnt make any sense to me…it just doesnt. I dont hate Soda. I never hated him and I never will….but..you know…as much as I would have liked to believe we were meant to be together…maybe we just werent because…I got tired. I started to get very tired and every moment I was able to sober up for a few minutes..I would question God, why did he force this life upon me? Why wasnt I allowed a sayso in whether or not I wanted to be here or not..and how…how in Gods name had my life turned out like this? I started to want out…months ago..but..I didnt wanna stop using heroin. He was my ticket to heroin, and I was his. We loved each other…but..we loved each other like fucking Sid and Nancy..ya know? Not healthy. I was spiritually dying and physically whithering away and everyone saw it, I think.

So..on Thursday April 10th Soda and I made plans to meet up with “the boys” (who we got dope from) as early as we could on Friday. We made these plans early in the day, because, by the time wed have gotten the money, theyd be closed down..aka..not selling. We hadnt had any money so it had already been one full day without heroin. For any opiate user, you know what that means. Soda fell asleep around…8AM. And, I was wide awake..sick.

I decided..I could cut my habit in half..if I got a hold of some needles. You read it right. I wanted to shoot dope into my fucking vein.

About a week before that, I experienced a horrible spell of depression and begged mom to try and find dads number, because, if anyone would understand…he would.

Well, anyway..here it was..Thursday morning. I got into my car…and I drove to a pharmacy thats widely known to supply needles to addicts. As im pulling into the parking lot..I get a phone call. I answer…and it was my daddy. I immediately broke down and told him what I was doing..and he told me to please not to ever ever ever use a needle and as long as im not on the needle, I gotta good chance of gettin off heroin. He asked if he needed me to come down to help me get off of it..I said no. But, that day sucked.

Soda had to work a double shift…I was restless and decided to go get my nose re pierced (I previously had both nostrils done) and I went to this..shop id never been in before…despite the fact id always gone to the same place for years..I just decided to go there.

I wasnt supposed to be there. Soda didnt want me having anymore piercings. Fuck it. I wanted them.
When I walked in…the first person I noticed was a guy..small guy…short, skinny…but….he had these gorgeous dreadlocks, and I could tell he was insanely shy and..I thought maybe he could be apprenticing to pierce..because..he came back into the piercing room with me while I got pierced..and watched.

I debated with myself..on whether or not to comment on his hair because…I was sure he got em all the time. Empty comments that meant nothing but “hey, dude, you look cool..”

So…I said..(he is red headed)
“I love your hair…its like..fire and fire is like death and death is..well, death is life. Its me and you and…everywhere we exist.” He didnt say much but “thank you.”
Piercing is over..but…he followed me out to the lobby..and I sat down..dunno why. He sat across from me and he said…”Ill do your hair for you…if you want me to..you know..ill lock it..ill have ya lookin fresh.” And, he smiled. I liked his smile. It made me feel…nice, and wanted…but I just felt this vibe between us..so we talked for a while just sitting there…and he was like hey..heres my number, blah blah..I gave him mine and then BAM I immediately thought…”I have a fucking boyfriend. Heroin addict boyfriend” and I said..”Just..be careful when you call me.”

And, I left.

At 1AM I woke up, sick as fuck. Sweating this putrid sweat. Something inside of me…pulled, and pulled for me to text message this guy. So, I did. I said “You awake?” and he said “Who the hell is this?” I said “girl from the tat shop, sorry, im a dumbfuck I dont know why I did this.”
He replied “No, get online, ill be home soon.”

So, he got online..and we talked..and I just..decided to ask…”Did you feel something between us? A vibe? SOMETHING?” and I sat there…on the edge of shitting my pants for being such an IDIOT to ask that question..and he said…”Yes. I did.”
We talked some more and he said “Hey, why dont you come to my house…we can watch the sunrise..” And I laid out the rules..no fucking, sucking, yadda yadda…I just want to see you. He said he wanted to see me too so..in a fucking TORRENTIAL rain storm, I drove to his room mates apartment. I didnt come home for 5 days.

It was about 4AM when I got there, and, remember..Soda and I were copping dope at 7:30. So..7:30 rolls around…and I told this guy, I said..”Look. Im gonna be realll honest with ya. Im on heroin. And, im about to start getting violently ill.” He said “Ok, lay down, ill get you some tea..I will take care of you.”

My phone rang. It was Soda. Wondering where I was. He woke up, and I was gone. And..I spoke the words I thought id NEVER EVER say..
“Soda..umm..im not coming home. I cant do this. Im sorry. I cant do this.” I hung up and..that was it.

The next 5 or 6 days was….a blur..I was sick. My body is now healed but my soul…my soul needs some working on.

Christoper is “this guys” name. Well, most people say Chris. I say Christopher because …I like the way he smiles when he hears me call him that. He took care of me. He helped someone he didnt even know, just because we felt “vibes” off of each other..and now..he stays with me.

In ONE day, I almost shot up dope, talked to my father for the first time in years, met a man who HELPED me, and started the process of starting my life over. I did all that without showing any emotion and now its time to start the process of healing my soul, my spirit.

You know, the night I spent with Christopher..the first night..I found a journal entry..in a spiral notebook. It was more like a Prayer. It was written on March 30th.
It said something along the lines of..

“Im having trouble being happy. Shiva, help me. I need your help…I feel like I havent even begun to learn to crawl in this life that has been forced upon me, that I had no say so in. You have always helped me..please…I LOVE you..help me.”

He helped me.