Rehab – Day Seven
This rather small, rather miserable entry for my seventh day at a rehab clinic in the German countryside requires a bit of background explanation. When I was about twelve, I fell in love. Hard. We were together – or as together as people of that age can be – for about a year. My love for him never went away and we kept in touch in the intervening years until, in the depth of my alcohol addiction and his heroin addiction, we were once again in a relationship.
He made the decision to end it. He couldn’t cope with both of our addictions. I fell apart. He, by all accounts, fared better. Until seven months later. He had overdosed and died. I won’t trivialise how I feel about it by attempting to explain further.
Secret Garden treasure hunt and colouring book. “Draw here what the padlock is locking away”. I want to draw J—. I miss him. I love the way your hair, hangs over your eyes. Crush me with your stare.