I’m going to have to learn about the sober me and how she operates. That’s horrifying. But it’s necessary. If I’m ever going to learn how to be happy and sober at the same time. Dafuq is that? Happiness in sobriety. Sounds like a big, ol’ fantasyland goal. A dream. Something to chase but never obtain. A replacement obsession. To replace my chase of drugs.
A brief summary to catch you up… Shitty relationship with physical abuse + Shitty relationship with emotional negligence = Self hatred. Take that total for self hatred, and multiply that by heavy meth use. Your answer should be negative. Now you’ve got a self-hating victim strung out on crystal. Add a dash of ex-boyfriend fucking, […]
Oh, my Jack.
He was my knight in shimmering armour… My trap-house savior.
This one is still a fresh wound. I lost him. We lost each other. It was the most intense relationship of my life. I love him still. He hates me. As he should.
In all honesty, if I had the option to go back in time and do it all over again… no changing reality needed- because if I know I will get to feel that lavish pout of his upon my lips again, I will instantly orgasm. And probably make a fool at myself for how much I’d be smiling behind our embrace.
I’d do anything for that opportunity. Even if it was to just say a proper goodbye… I’d run my fingers through his soft, Justin-Bieber-esque hair… And I’d breathe in his aroma, deeply inside of me… Where I always wish he would be.
I packed up everything… I wasn’t ready to leave my home of two years. But I decided chasing a meth dealer across a few states was a fantastic learning experience.
This was not the beginning, just merely a wave I was surfing with my eyes closed and shalay in hand.
Just put my piece of shit soul in the dirt already. I’d rather be a rotting, numb corpse.
Diaries of a Former Meth Whore. 