Her name is Crystal

Reads: 336  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 3

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short essay looking back on my experience with loss related to the drug meth.

Submitted: January 06, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 06, 2008

A A A

A A A


My first love. This phrase is not one that I say with a smile or sigh, but with great regret and weight. My junior year in high school, I lived through one of the hardest times I have yet to experience. I reasonbly doubt I will live through harder. I watched my best friend and high school sweet heart succumb to drug use.
Like all girlfriends, I found my boyfriend to be the greatest boy on earth. The affection was magnified by our deep friendship developed long before a relationship was even thought of. Charming, free spirited, and gorgeous in the most bohemian of ways, he had me wrapped around his finger. He always knew how to make me smile and counteracted my sarcastic banter with shameless laughter, softening even the wittiest parts of me. It was a constant battle of the wits with us, so drug use was the farthest form of demise from my mind. On new years 2007, I returned early from a trip to the beach with my cousin and decided to pay him a surprise vist. What I found was not the warmth of his arms or the welcome return of his smile to my eyes, but a scene that remains damask and dark in my memory.
In my love's hands was a rounded white pipe, something I had only seen in the movies or on the news, and his piercing blue eyes were hidden behind a mask of smoke. A sweet chemical smell made me choke and my eyes watered, not just from the foreign product but from the sudden realization of what he was doing. That pipe was an image I had seen time and time again alongside the numerous reports of crystal meth use.
Love is not only blind, but gullible. He told me he'd only done it a "couple of times... Like once or twice", and I wrote the dsicovery off as natural curiosity. The days and weeks went on and I became more afraid for his life. His weight dropped and he never slept. I noticed changes in his face and eyes and found that he was easily angered. The friend who had never spoken a cruel word to me began putting me down and screaming at me. The fear for his life was accompanied by fear of losing him before I could save him. I kept my mouth shut to avoid upsetting him and thought my placation would turn him around. I wanted to believe that he would see how much I loved him and want to stop because it hurt me. All he could see was himself.
Things took a turn for the worse. He dropped out of high school, leaving behind two theatre scholarships that he'd won. He refused to apply for jobs that required drug tests and any job he got he quit for one reason or other only days after he started. I knew things were past my abilities when it directly affected me. One morning on the way to school, he said he needed to stop somewhere. I sat in the car on that cold day while he disappeared into a stranger's house. He returned a few moments later to tell me to come inside.
His gas money was traded for drugs. And I was stranded. I missed school for the next two days because I was too ashamed of the situation to call for help. I lied to my parents and told them I was staying with a friend to finish a project we'd delayed and spent the next two days sleeping on a stranger's floor, my only sober friend a house trained dog.
After that, we didn't speak for a long time. One day he came back around begging for my forgiveness and like a fool, I gave it to him. Deep in my heart, I knew he was still using, but still thought in vain that I could help him. The stress of it all took me over and my grades began to slip, I lost sleep and was prescribed insomnia medication that still didn't work. I spent days at home, missing classes, nauseated with grief and worry at his disappearing acts. After he was ten days late for a Valentine's date, I knew I could do no more.
He showed up at my house dirty and smelly. His long hair was in tangles and his blue eyes lost their color in a sea of glazed red. He came inside and fell onto a chair and pulled me to him, insisting I had no reason to cry.
"Where were you?"
"My car broke down."
"For ten days?"
"No one had a phone. The part I needed was rare."
"I was terrified, your mother was terrified, your baby sister was terrified!"
He continued to smile at me, with only a vague hint of sadness in his eyes. Incapable of reason, he expected my usual welcome, my unwavering forgiveness. But I let him go.
I went six months without a single word from him. Tired of suffering, I sent an email telling him what he had done to me, what I had lost because of him. I heard from him again when he showed up at my house screaming at me for accusing him of such things. He let me know he was engaged to a girl he'd dated before me and that he was unemployed and living in a car. When he finally calmed, he hugged me and promised me we'd be friends, and told me I was all he ever had. He said he'd see me later.
He hasn't.


© Copyright 2017 anouklovett. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply