The Life of an Addict

He quietly sat in the dark, at long last free from the frivolities of the day. There wasn’t a soul that was awake at this ungodly hour and you could almost hear the calm, chilled fog setting outside. Finally he was free to get the fix he had been craving all day, he hated being sober but he had no other choice. It was time for him to let go of the worries of his wretched existence and dive into a realm whose existence was only understood and appreciated by drug addicts and people who were dubbed insane by society. Funnily enough, he was a combination of both as his hallucinogenic of choice was rather unconventional and his method of overdosing was somewhat unorthodox.

As soon as the light from the hallucinogenic of his choice hit his face, his grim, serious look was immediately replaced by a smile. Funny inventions, these smart phones; for some they provided a way of communication, for others a way of entertainment. Yet, for him, his particular phone contained the drug he sought. It was riddled with pictures of her… The smile on his face slowly broadened as he slowly swiped past her past pictures, and tried to remember the smallest of details of the conversation they had when the photographs were exchanged. As the gallery was about to come to an end, he sighed exhaustingly, infuriated with himself. He hated how in the hustle of life, he always forgot to tell her how beautiful she truly was. He just loathed how he was often so preoccupied with the thought of “acting sober” that it led him to not appreciate what, in his view, was one of the Lord’s best handiworks. Oh how he regretted being away from her on these nights. He missed everything about her from the sound of sweet voice to her silly habits to her mischievous smile, he missed it all gravely.

Alas, like all good things, his train of thought was interrupted by the distant clock tower ringing its bells. He took a deep breath as he knew tomorrow was going to be another long day and he needed every bit of energy he could muster to cope with it. He took a long glance at her last, and quite possibly his favorite picture of her as he knew it was time for the last inhale of his cigarette, the last bite of the tastiest of delicacies, or more aptly put, the last sweet shot of cocaine before he fell into a deep slumber for the night. Another 18 hours were left before he could sit back and enjoy the drug of his choice again… There was nothing he wanted more in this world but he knew no one would ever understand an emotion so raw, at least no one sober or in the right state of mind. Perhaps, in a way not even those who divulged into narcotics could understand his addiction for he was different from them too. For you see, unlike them, he did care about the life he was building, he did care about his health, he cared a lot because he wanted to live… he wanted to live just to be able to see her face once again.

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One Response to “The Life of an Addict”

  1. It’s a shame this blog has such a limited audience, lol. Please write often. ❤

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