My girlfriend knows I use drugs. She doesn’t necessarily like it, but seems to understand that I do and is OK with it. I will occasionally say a pro-psychedelic sentence or two, but that’s usually the end of the conversation. Otherwise, when I’m planning a trip I say I’m going to be “in dispose” or “trying some new concoction” and we leave it at that.
A little over a month ago I was on 2.5 hits of strong blotter and ended up going to see her in the evening without telling her. Halfway through the night she tells me she’s excited about taking her kitten over to meet her friend’s kitten to have a “kitty play date,” and she says it with such a genuine enthusiasm and innocence that I just lose it. I start laughing hysterically and crying. This is my life. I’m comfortable, have few responsibilities, control over my drug use, yet I still have access to chemicals that regularly make me feel like I have the keys to heaven.
“Are you crying? You girl!” she says.
Between bursts of laughter I copped to the fact I had taken LSD, and that it was a huge relief to get that off my chest. I told her how beautiful I thought my life was and how happy I was to be here. I have no idea what I did to deserve a life so grand, and the reminders that I have it and the gratitude I feel are sometimes just too much in a way that is so good.