The Day Everything Went Wrong (or Right)
The rising sun snuck its morning rays through the carefully closed curtains of the dingy
motel room window. The night that I had long waited for and had dreamed of for the past ten months was over. It had not been as I imagined it would be anyway. As the realization crept over me, I accepted that he was still more in love with the dope than he would ever be with me. My life was again wrapped up in the deception of drugs and my addiction to him. I sat silently and tearlessly weeping in the deepest recesses of my soul for the man I had once thought he was. I knew that I had been wrong all along; he had always been this way. The anxiety and paranoia was beginning to surface in him. There were no more loving glances from him to tell me that he even saw me there, I was now the enemy, in his mind. Soon he would be screaming accusations at me again, just like he always had done in the past. This reunion was destined to end in violence if I did not find somewhere to go, anywhere. On this day I grasped the truth that the life I had been living was going to have to come to an end, I could not endure the running, fear, desperation and hopelessness of this unholy existence another day.
Now it was time to go, heading toward the unknown, once again. I didn’t even remember what it was like to have a place to call home anymore. I dialed every number I had, looking for a spot to land, even just for a few hours. As much as I wanted to stay with him, I knew he didn’t want me. Truth be told, a small part of me wanted to run from him as fast as I could. Now I could, a stranger was willing to let me come to their home. Only because I had something she needed: dope. As we pulled into her driveway, he faked a loving goodbye, so did I. This would be the last time I would see him, maybe forever.
Although I was...