You know I had been a dopehead for a long time and finally got my act together, was clean for like 3 years. Found this new guy, not Maliks "real" dad, but he treated malik like his own son all the same. He was my soul mate, no question. We found each other actually, because he was my neighbor. we started talking, chilling, became smoke buddies...and then we realized we were falling hard for each other. He was truly my dream guy, and I dont only say that looking back. i said it all the time when he was here too. we would always just stop and look at each other and say...its too good to be true. this must be a dream because we are just too lucky.
i was so happy to have a man who didnt have the same past as me with dope and opiates....everything was great....he told me he hated opiates and was known for being very against dope because back when he was 15 his best friend OD'd and died in his arms. everybody hwo was close with him knew that story and knew he would "never" do dope.
he was a commercial carpenter and he was doing demolition down in Seaside HEights after theh hurricane. his boss was screwing him over, workin him like a dog, no weekends, commuting like 8 hours a day, really shitty, everything was mad stressed, and we were really struggling trying to get thru it. never ever considered breaking up but it was just mad rough. and then one day he comes to me....about a week, week and a half max before his death...and he says...i have a confession. i did dope....and he made it sound like he had only just tried it at first. a guy at his job offered it to him, he did it, whatever......but in the days after that the whole story gradually came out. That he had been doing it here and there, on and off, for the past 2 years or so. that he didnt want to tell me because he didnt want to bring it around me and have me doing it, but that he felt like a hypocrite and didnt want to lie to me anymore.
I was fuckin devastated. i sobbed for hours. i could not believe it. i was so crushed because i knew that shit dont bring nothing but trouble, and i didnt want him to ever go thru the shit that i went thru with it. i knew it could only bring bad things into our life. I was just fucking...gutted....because he had came home high to me. I was a junkie! I didnt even see that shit! Why? He came home fucked up and nodded out in the middle of doing shit but I never, ever, in a million years EVER would have thought to even think he was on dope....because "Steve would never do that." It just wasnt even a possibility that could cross my mind. thats how much he had us all fooled.
finally after a few days of terrible depression and this feeling of just...doom...i decided...fuck it. he told me he didnt intend to stop, that he would keep doing it from time to time, but he didnt want me to worry, and i was just like...whatever. If hes gonna do it, at least I can do it with him so I make sure he is safe and not out driving around high with some assholes who would just let him take a charge for them or something. it was a horrible decision but at the time it seemed like the only thing to do. I felt like if I did it with him, he could see how bad it hurt ME to see HIM do it. like, a taste of his own medicine or some shit like that. the thinking dont make no sense to somebody outside but to me it made perfect sense somehow. I felt like the ball was already rolling. the time to stop him had already past--he had already did it. it was too late to talk him out of it, too late to do anything about that. what was done was done, so all i could do was go along for the ride.
i can still remember how we sat under his deck, smoking a bowl, when we came to the decision to do it together. I can still remember in my mind, I took a mental picture of it. And I said "I will remember this day. I will look back on this day someday as the day we took the step." The same way the first time I shot dope, i ,made a mental note, like "I will look back and remember this as the day it all started." And I thought, god forbid one of us ends up addicted again--but we wont let that happen. this is just a one time thing, just for fun, not a big deal, we will be careful and its no big thing. But i had this nagging doubt at the back of my mind that this day would be burned into my brain forever--as the day that I opened the door to pandoras box.
That week he had worked a full 7 days without a break and was due a fat check. but when he went to go pick it up, he texted me "somethings wrong". and I felt like something was wrong too, but it turned out, he only meant with the amount of the check. Instead of being 800 something, it was for 300 dollars. That to me was a sign that we shouldnt do it. i said maybe we should just say fuck it and wait til next weekend babe. but he was all like no it was already my plan to do it i dont want to wait i worked hard all weekend whatever whatever whatever.....so despite not even having enough money to get thru the rest of the week, he went thru with it.
Everytime we drank together, we always took shots together, never alone. Each round of shots was a toast. This time, we toasted, tapping our needles together...And his toast was...."To our new thing."
But that was the only time we ever did our 'new thing.'
The whole night felt so surreal. i never imagined i would be doing THAT with HIM, when it was something he had told me , at the beginning of our relationship, that he would leave me if I ever did it. (he later told me that was a empty threat, that he never could have left me, but the point was--i was 100% willing and ready to never touch it again because he was worth far more to me.)
I can still remember standing in his room, and this feeling of badness washing over me. I felt so strongly like....Maybe this is a bad idea. I told him we should just stop and not do any more and just go to bed and save it for another time. he said fuck that, I'm gettin wasted! and shit...I mean, the deed was done. We had already used that night. at that point i said fuck it too....not like I can go back now, so I guess theres nothing else to do but enjoy the night and nod with my baby.
We went to bed. in the morning, he was laying on his back, snoring, making this weird sound. i kept trying to roll him over to his side but he wouldnt budge, no matter what I did. but his snoring was keeping me awake. I couldnt sleep, so I wanted him to move. (I want to shoot myself in the head for my fucking horrible selfishness, I just wanted to sleep, in my sleep hazed fog never thinking that maybe that sound was because of something wrong.)
Finally he just rolled over onto his stomach with his face in the pillow. I fell asleep for maybe 20 minutes and woke up with a terrible feeling because I realized that I didnt hear him snoring anymore...but I didnt hear him breathing either.
I tried to wake him up and he wouldnt budge. I tried to turn him over and when I brought his face out from the pillow his lips were blue.....
I dont even want to continue it from there because its so fucking painful and I still keep getting the flashbacks of that morning, torturing me in the middle of the night, wherever I am, i cant get away. I tried to give him CPR but it didnt work. I was naked in bed with him and I was so crazy afraid that I just started screaming running thru the house with nothing but a pair of panties on screaming for his family to help and didnt even realize i had no clothes on.
His stepdad came and called 911, my phone was dead and could not dial.
Once his stepdad was doing CPR, I tried to throw all his shit away. I knew that he wanted me to have his back. I figured they would come, revive him, and then he would be like "what the fuck babe, you didnt throw the shit out? Come on, I thought you had my back! I thought I could count on you!" So since I couldnt do anything to help anything at that time, except get rid of shit, I did.
But his brother saw me do it. And by the way--when I screamed for help, his brother came running upstairs, and before knowing ANYTHING about ANYTHING at all, theonly thing he heard was "STEVE NEEDS HELP, QUICK!!!!" and his brother came up to me and screamed in my face "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HIM!?!?!?!?!?!?!" He had already decided that I did this to him before he even knew what "this" was.
So when the cops came and asked where the shit was at, his brother led them right to it and told them i tried to throw it out....His brother also asked me "what did you do , call 911 first or hide the drugs?" fucking piece of shit.
i was so happy to have a man who didnt have the same past as me with dope and opiates....everything was great....he told me he hated opiates and was known for being very against dope because back when he was 15 his best friend OD'd and died in his arms. everybody hwo was close with him knew that story and knew he would "never" do dope.
he was a commercial carpenter and he was doing demolition down in Seaside HEights after theh hurricane. his boss was screwing him over, workin him like a dog, no weekends, commuting like 8 hours a day, really shitty, everything was mad stressed, and we were really struggling trying to get thru it. never ever considered breaking up but it was just mad rough. and then one day he comes to me....about a week, week and a half max before his death...and he says...i have a confession. i did dope....and he made it sound like he had only just tried it at first. a guy at his job offered it to him, he did it, whatever......but in the days after that the whole story gradually came out. That he had been doing it here and there, on and off, for the past 2 years or so. that he didnt want to tell me because he didnt want to bring it around me and have me doing it, but that he felt like a hypocrite and didnt want to lie to me anymore.
I was fuckin devastated. i sobbed for hours. i could not believe it. i was so crushed because i knew that shit dont bring nothing but trouble, and i didnt want him to ever go thru the shit that i went thru with it. i knew it could only bring bad things into our life. I was just fucking...gutted....because he had came home high to me. I was a junkie! I didnt even see that shit! Why? He came home fucked up and nodded out in the middle of doing shit but I never, ever, in a million years EVER would have thought to even think he was on dope....because "Steve would never do that." It just wasnt even a possibility that could cross my mind. thats how much he had us all fooled.
finally after a few days of terrible depression and this feeling of just...doom...i decided...fuck it. he told me he didnt intend to stop, that he would keep doing it from time to time, but he didnt want me to worry, and i was just like...whatever. If hes gonna do it, at least I can do it with him so I make sure he is safe and not out driving around high with some assholes who would just let him take a charge for them or something. it was a horrible decision but at the time it seemed like the only thing to do. I felt like if I did it with him, he could see how bad it hurt ME to see HIM do it. like, a taste of his own medicine or some shit like that. the thinking dont make no sense to somebody outside but to me it made perfect sense somehow. I felt like the ball was already rolling. the time to stop him had already past--he had already did it. it was too late to talk him out of it, too late to do anything about that. what was done was done, so all i could do was go along for the ride.
i can still remember how we sat under his deck, smoking a bowl, when we came to the decision to do it together. I can still remember in my mind, I took a mental picture of it. And I said "I will remember this day. I will look back on this day someday as the day we took the step." The same way the first time I shot dope, i ,made a mental note, like "I will look back and remember this as the day it all started." And I thought, god forbid one of us ends up addicted again--but we wont let that happen. this is just a one time thing, just for fun, not a big deal, we will be careful and its no big thing. But i had this nagging doubt at the back of my mind that this day would be burned into my brain forever--as the day that I opened the door to pandoras box.
That week he had worked a full 7 days without a break and was due a fat check. but when he went to go pick it up, he texted me "somethings wrong". and I felt like something was wrong too, but it turned out, he only meant with the amount of the check. Instead of being 800 something, it was for 300 dollars. That to me was a sign that we shouldnt do it. i said maybe we should just say fuck it and wait til next weekend babe. but he was all like no it was already my plan to do it i dont want to wait i worked hard all weekend whatever whatever whatever.....so despite not even having enough money to get thru the rest of the week, he went thru with it.
Everytime we drank together, we always took shots together, never alone. Each round of shots was a toast. This time, we toasted, tapping our needles together...And his toast was...."To our new thing."
But that was the only time we ever did our 'new thing.'
The whole night felt so surreal. i never imagined i would be doing THAT with HIM, when it was something he had told me , at the beginning of our relationship, that he would leave me if I ever did it. (he later told me that was a empty threat, that he never could have left me, but the point was--i was 100% willing and ready to never touch it again because he was worth far more to me.)
I can still remember standing in his room, and this feeling of badness washing over me. I felt so strongly like....Maybe this is a bad idea. I told him we should just stop and not do any more and just go to bed and save it for another time. he said fuck that, I'm gettin wasted! and shit...I mean, the deed was done. We had already used that night. at that point i said fuck it too....not like I can go back now, so I guess theres nothing else to do but enjoy the night and nod with my baby.
We went to bed. in the morning, he was laying on his back, snoring, making this weird sound. i kept trying to roll him over to his side but he wouldnt budge, no matter what I did. but his snoring was keeping me awake. I couldnt sleep, so I wanted him to move. (I want to shoot myself in the head for my fucking horrible selfishness, I just wanted to sleep, in my sleep hazed fog never thinking that maybe that sound was because of something wrong.)
Finally he just rolled over onto his stomach with his face in the pillow. I fell asleep for maybe 20 minutes and woke up with a terrible feeling because I realized that I didnt hear him snoring anymore...but I didnt hear him breathing either.
I tried to wake him up and he wouldnt budge. I tried to turn him over and when I brought his face out from the pillow his lips were blue.....
I dont even want to continue it from there because its so fucking painful and I still keep getting the flashbacks of that morning, torturing me in the middle of the night, wherever I am, i cant get away. I tried to give him CPR but it didnt work. I was naked in bed with him and I was so crazy afraid that I just started screaming running thru the house with nothing but a pair of panties on screaming for his family to help and didnt even realize i had no clothes on.
His stepdad came and called 911, my phone was dead and could not dial.
Once his stepdad was doing CPR, I tried to throw all his shit away. I knew that he wanted me to have his back. I figured they would come, revive him, and then he would be like "what the fuck babe, you didnt throw the shit out? Come on, I thought you had my back! I thought I could count on you!" So since I couldnt do anything to help anything at that time, except get rid of shit, I did.
But his brother saw me do it. And by the way--when I screamed for help, his brother came running upstairs, and before knowing ANYTHING about ANYTHING at all, theonly thing he heard was "STEVE NEEDS HELP, QUICK!!!!" and his brother came up to me and screamed in my face "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HIM!?!?!?!?!?!?!" He had already decided that I did this to him before he even knew what "this" was.
So when the cops came and asked where the shit was at, his brother led them right to it and told them i tried to throw it out....His brother also asked me "what did you do , call 911 first or hide the drugs?" fucking piece of shit.