msjessica's Diaryland Diary

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it was me i cut but you bled as well

i'm not really sure where this story starts

i guess, actually, it is more of a chapter than a story unto itself.

so

he walks up on to my balcony, all black, all these bags he's carrying - he drops them and we embrace and it is the beginning and ending of some other micro story of how we got to be here and what went on to bring us to this place.

we are almost completely dropping guards just in that embrace, we have battled so hard, so many times, different ways

to just drop bags and be body to body

i wonder if i feel as solid and familiar as he does to me.

-

time passes, we talk.

2.3 g of H is a lot of powder.

it is not all for us.

he suggest i take 10 lines but instead i take 15. i lose sight and life i guess, for awhile. come to in the bath, naked, he and my housemate slapping me and cold water running on me - when i come back i just stare at them, wondering why they are so stressed when i feel so calm. i'm not sure if i can talk to them or if just don't want, can't be bothered. she is screaming ambulance, he eventually says "just squeeze my hand" and i sense i need to do something soon, so i do. and we are ok.

i feel back after that but i have no real memory of the next 4-5 hours.

i think we just were stoned, in oblivion, and in each other. always touching, all wrapped up, this sadly is how we came to know each other, although how we started out was sunshine and sand and sobriety and sex.

-

there was too much, i can't do all of this even though it's just for my own documentation, i don't need to do this to myself.

-

we love each other deeply but he is eaten by addiction and who he becomes at night, once his demons are satisfied and he can actually shine, is so different to who he is in the mornings. just how it was.

it is heartbreaking. i know i was used, and i guess i used him too. i needed love. i still need love but i have had some fix and i can survive off it for awhile.

i just throw my hands up and leave this to be what it is. there is something in this for me to learn, this is my path and my story, i recognise, although not as severe, that to love me comes with loving addiction and recklessness and coming second to my "afflictions", my "urges", my "needs".

-

i love him. to move on from this and to fall in love again, i guess i welcome it, i am intrigued as to who could possibly come next.

(also i would welcome just...... this working out. never trust a junkie. never fall in love with a junkie. never become a junkie.)

8:17 p.m. - 2014-07-26

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