Seeing my boyfriend and my best friend's arms wrapped around each other and kissing passionately was just too much. Balling like a banshee baby throwing a tantrum, over and over I kept sobbing through my tears and choking, "Why? Why? Why?" The pain was so fucking intense I didn't know what to do with it. "God help me! Fuckin what did I do to always have this happen to me?," cried the then bewildered, young babe of 19. Chico, one of that prick's friends (I can't even bring myself to call him by his name Steve) looks sympathetic, but a bit awkward.
"I told you that guy was a fucking prick didn't I?," he said. "He treats women like shit. Dump his ass. You can do better than him," Chico had said a couple of times. Yeah easier said than done. I'd look for someone older with qualities I loved in Steve only without the sadistic routine. Always without success. And Tami? What the BLEEDIN FUCK! tHAT SLEAZY BACK STABBING CUNT! FUUUUCK!," I sobbed angrily and hurt. Finally when there were no more sobs left to be had, eyes red and wet, all that was left was a big blank void felt inside. The 2nd I'd think about Steve and Tami embracing though, the pain came back with a bloody vengeance.
If it were simply a matter of "Dump the prick," how come I didn't feel a friggin tad better? Damned fucking feelings. Damned pain. Damn me for going for the wrong boyfriend that gets off hurting me, yet not understanding why I feel so compelled to stay? I had no answers. Emotions got me in the ass. Again. Chico said, "I think we should relax and have a little taste. Come on girl, it will make you feel better." Heroin? Shoot some smack? The very thing I dared not contemplate ever until now. Oh God I am afraid of needles, I don't want to feel the stick or see my own blood.
"It's totally like coming home, you'll see," he said. "Fuck wad will come unglued and throw a hissy if we do his dope. He almost broke your jaw this morning over some fuckin......NOTHING. I HATE HIM!," I screamed and started hyperventillating again. Ok calm the fuck down. Let's not frighten the poor other male who is trying to be nice. Tears spilling down my cheeks, smiling through my tears, "Thankyou really. Thanks but it won't do any good. You go ahead," I said softly and gently squeezing his hand. "I'm not saying to self medicate every time you got your knickers in a knot or that the problems will just instantly go away. They won't. Right now you could really use a bit of comfort. Dry your tears right up and tomorrow you'll be all better. "
Taking my wet tear stained cheek in his hand gently, "Shhhhhh soon you'll feel all better I promise." Making a fist as he said, I winced at the sharp pinch I felt. "Don't move," he said. This is dumb. This isn't going to do anything I thought. "You can let go now. Relax your fist." See? just as I knew, nothing would happen. Perhaps it was 10 to 15 seconds later I realized "Oh great now I'm gonna throw up!" "It'll pass....lay down on the bed...relax....pretty soon tears will all but be left behind you'll see...." I heard as his voice trailed off. Next it felt as though a big, giant, invisible hand wiped my cheeks and put his hand on my stomach. A pool of warmth was slowly radiating through my entire body. And all my pain, all my sorrow, all the cruelty inflicted on my by Steve, or life in general all of a sudden seemed a burden not too difficult or painful to carry.
It was as if a big strong older brother had appeared out of nowhere and said, "Nothing is too big, or to cruel for you to bear. And life all of a sudden doesn't seem so bad. The hold Steve had on me, became trivial, and the thought of leaving him no longer an impossible hell, merely being able to walk away and not look back, only big brother was there with his support. I would not feel so empty. Why did I feel too much anyway? I wanted to ask. Why just a moment or some time ago.....pain so intense no......more.......not .....going to be....... crushed to fragments. Can endure.....anything......torture.....not.....no.....longer....so....bad.
Why is it that these feelings of loss, these feelings of grief, these feelings of anger, and despair so overwhelming and in magnitude? What do you do when accosted by feelings that tell you something is wrong, but FUXAKE never taught how to fix the problem? These razor sharp awarenesses and former thoughts at some point seemed to dissolve away into a misty vapor. Thoughts of another life, another reality, from another wave length, were but mere blurry patches one might see or gaze upon once high up in the sky on a plane. Mountains, rivers, canyons, cities, were but tiny specks, but a distant memory, and mere far off vague recollection of something once so important, now but a mere shadow if that.
Mmmmm dozing in and out of consciencessness in a kind of semi haze not experienced before, but quite pleasant. Lips feel so heavy, every breath nice, slow, labored, but pleasant. Looking over at Chico, with extreme effort, I can make out a male shape on the other side of the bed apparently enjoying a fuzzy bliss, another sort of reality where life is just life, and nothing is so big or bad it can hurt me again. Coasting, floating....thoughts of semiconscienceness are like the kiss of a giant bird who spreads his dark wings, they are 2 dark shadows that give my body and soul and fuzzy, wet, kiss from wings instead of lips. On some level I know Chico is right, although too stoned to put in words. He's right. Nothing is that big. Nothing is that important. Nothing including life will ever hurt me again.
There IS a God! Floating...floating away....oh he wraps me in his
big strong arms and chases those demons away. Eyes drooping, it's as if in a dream, flying 10,000 miles above earth, but feel no fear. no pain. Me
and heroin are one with the universe. We are the universe and
everything, and everything and the universe is heroine and I. There is no pain. There is no sorrow. There is no suffering, no anger, only a feeling
of peace, of being blissfully connected, of a lovely (am yawning
yawn) ....not noticing, nor caring that I passed from one state
of conscience, and coasted smooth sailing into the nod, the most natural, beautiful, graceful transcendence. No longer awake state, finally united with some peace and quiet my weary lost soul has always searched and now have finally come home, some solitude, such a warm, dark, fuzzy blanket of oblivion surely destined to remain indefinitely......
The tears but a long lost faded memory left behind.....I'm free......
"I told you that guy was a fucking prick didn't I?," he said. "He treats women like shit. Dump his ass. You can do better than him," Chico had said a couple of times. Yeah easier said than done. I'd look for someone older with qualities I loved in Steve only without the sadistic routine. Always without success. And Tami? What the BLEEDIN FUCK! tHAT SLEAZY BACK STABBING CUNT! FUUUUCK!," I sobbed angrily and hurt. Finally when there were no more sobs left to be had, eyes red and wet, all that was left was a big blank void felt inside. The 2nd I'd think about Steve and Tami embracing though, the pain came back with a bloody vengeance.
If it were simply a matter of "Dump the prick," how come I didn't feel a friggin tad better? Damned fucking feelings. Damned pain. Damn me for going for the wrong boyfriend that gets off hurting me, yet not understanding why I feel so compelled to stay? I had no answers. Emotions got me in the ass. Again. Chico said, "I think we should relax and have a little taste. Come on girl, it will make you feel better." Heroin? Shoot some smack? The very thing I dared not contemplate ever until now. Oh God I am afraid of needles, I don't want to feel the stick or see my own blood.
"It's totally like coming home, you'll see," he said. "Fuck wad will come unglued and throw a hissy if we do his dope. He almost broke your jaw this morning over some fuckin......NOTHING. I HATE HIM!," I screamed and started hyperventillating again. Ok calm the fuck down. Let's not frighten the poor other male who is trying to be nice. Tears spilling down my cheeks, smiling through my tears, "Thankyou really. Thanks but it won't do any good. You go ahead," I said softly and gently squeezing his hand. "I'm not saying to self medicate every time you got your knickers in a knot or that the problems will just instantly go away. They won't. Right now you could really use a bit of comfort. Dry your tears right up and tomorrow you'll be all better. "
Taking my wet tear stained cheek in his hand gently, "Shhhhhh soon you'll feel all better I promise." Making a fist as he said, I winced at the sharp pinch I felt. "Don't move," he said. This is dumb. This isn't going to do anything I thought. "You can let go now. Relax your fist." See? just as I knew, nothing would happen. Perhaps it was 10 to 15 seconds later I realized "Oh great now I'm gonna throw up!" "It'll pass....lay down on the bed...relax....pretty soon tears will all but be left behind you'll see...." I heard as his voice trailed off. Next it felt as though a big, giant, invisible hand wiped my cheeks and put his hand on my stomach. A pool of warmth was slowly radiating through my entire body. And all my pain, all my sorrow, all the cruelty inflicted on my by Steve, or life in general all of a sudden seemed a burden not too difficult or painful to carry.
It was as if a big strong older brother had appeared out of nowhere and said, "Nothing is too big, or to cruel for you to bear. And life all of a sudden doesn't seem so bad. The hold Steve had on me, became trivial, and the thought of leaving him no longer an impossible hell, merely being able to walk away and not look back, only big brother was there with his support. I would not feel so empty. Why did I feel too much anyway? I wanted to ask. Why just a moment or some time ago.....pain so intense no......more.......not .....going to be....... crushed to fragments. Can endure.....anything......torture.....not.....no.....longer....so....bad.
Why is it that these feelings of loss, these feelings of grief, these feelings of anger, and despair so overwhelming and in magnitude? What do you do when accosted by feelings that tell you something is wrong, but FUXAKE never taught how to fix the problem? These razor sharp awarenesses and former thoughts at some point seemed to dissolve away into a misty vapor. Thoughts of another life, another reality, from another wave length, were but mere blurry patches one might see or gaze upon once high up in the sky on a plane. Mountains, rivers, canyons, cities, were but tiny specks, but a distant memory, and mere far off vague recollection of something once so important, now but a mere shadow if that.
Mmmmm dozing in and out of consciencessness in a kind of semi haze not experienced before, but quite pleasant. Lips feel so heavy, every breath nice, slow, labored, but pleasant. Looking over at Chico, with extreme effort, I can make out a male shape on the other side of the bed apparently enjoying a fuzzy bliss, another sort of reality where life is just life, and nothing is so big or bad it can hurt me again. Coasting, floating....thoughts of semiconscienceness are like the kiss of a giant bird who spreads his dark wings, they are 2 dark shadows that give my body and soul and fuzzy, wet, kiss from wings instead of lips. On some level I know Chico is right, although too stoned to put in words. He's right. Nothing is that big. Nothing is that important. Nothing including life will ever hurt me again.
There IS a God! Floating...floating away....oh he wraps me in his
big strong arms and chases those demons away. Eyes drooping, it's as if in a dream, flying 10,000 miles above earth, but feel no fear. no pain. Me
and heroin are one with the universe. We are the universe and
everything, and everything and the universe is heroine and I. There is no pain. There is no sorrow. There is no suffering, no anger, only a feeling
of peace, of being blissfully connected, of a lovely (am yawning
yawn) ....not noticing, nor caring that I passed from one state
of conscience, and coasted smooth sailing into the nod, the most natural, beautiful, graceful transcendence. No longer awake state, finally united with some peace and quiet my weary lost soul has always searched and now have finally come home, some solitude, such a warm, dark, fuzzy blanket of oblivion surely destined to remain indefinitely......
The tears but a long lost faded memory left behind.....I'm free......
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