My ex was a very successful, handsome attorney. Graduated from college and law school with high honors. I was a young college student when I met him out on the town one night with my girlfriends. He was relentless at trying to get my phone number. I toyed with him all night waiting/hoping he would get tired of me and go away. I just wasn’t interested having just broken up with my boyfriend. He didn’t go away – instead he melted my heart with his sheepish grin and I gave him my number. There began a breathtaking romance that my roommate said made me “glow”. He drank moderately and smoked an occasional joint. He exercised and took great care of himself — gave me grief for smoking. Within a few months he talked marriage and babies. I was very happy with him but it was all happening so fast, i told him i wasn’t ready…he was sad, he was 9 yrs older and ready..took it as a rejection. He began pulling away..I tried to bring him back …had a revelation,told him i was ready for marriage now, babies..but he was no longer interested…thus began the torturous part of our story.

I tried like hell to get him back…we would have crazy coincidental meetings..a phone call here and there, maybe a dinner..but he was moving on. My sometimes desperate attempts to reach him were met with occasional cruelty. He would set up a date only to cancel or stand me up. He would dangle the carrot only to yank it away. Slowly eroding my self-esteem..my friends and family hated him and were disappointed in my apparent lack of pride. I knew he was playing me but I couldn’t let go.

Years went by and i slowly moved on..got involved in a church..still had crazy coincidental run-ins with him..always excited to see him but much less hopeful about any reconciliation. 7 yrs after we met, he invited me to a bbq..brought a friend with me..he acted like a jerk. Constantly running into the bathroom, wasted..not being a great host. I was stunned..who was this guy? His friends were different…not like his friends when we were dating years ago. They were kinda…trashy. didn’t really see him much after that…fast forward 1 yr..he saw me at a large party..came up to me upset saying “we had to talk”. I left with him…kinda excited..but cautious. Got in his car and he immediately wanted to do cocaine. AAArgh, told him to stop the car and let me out. Told me he was kidding and convinced me to stay.. he then began to pour his heart out..he said he was “messed up”. I stroked his hair and said “no sweetie, you’re ok”. Back at his townhouse, he threw up. Acted nonchalant about it. Showed me a gun he had purchased…poured out his heart some more, said he was a loner..but said he and i had a bond. thought we made a connection again that night but he was back to his old tricks…setting up dates and cancelling them. About a month later, he left an odd sounding voicemail for me..he had bought a house and wanted me to see it..said i would love it. Never followed through on it though. A few weeks later i took a job across the country. I never said good-bye or let him know i was leaving. I thought he didn’t care and I needed to finally close this chapter. On my last day as i was driving to the airport, I passed him coming towards me in the opposite direction. He was fidgeting in his seat like he couldn’t get comfortable. He didn’t see me and that was the last time i ever saw him. I erased him from my mind..made all new friends who never heard of this guy and all my heartache over him. It was so nice to start fresh.

Fast forward 13 yrs..got curious and googled him. Found out he died 6 months after I left town. Called the county morgue — acute cocaine toxicity. They said he had been “found”. I was an innocent…had no idea he was hooked on cocaine. Now I can’t believe I didn’t realize it. I’ve cried and cried over the news. I am heartbroken. So for all you addicts who see loved ones leave your side…they still love you. And they always will…they just have to protect themselves.

Snorting cocaine’s a bit like shooting yourself in the head, with a much smaller barrel and your own breath providing the momentum. The shot goes straight to the brain, literally, but unlike a bullet it makes you feel amazing.

My nose burns the way I like it. The three powder-lines left on the bathroom granite call my name but I know I’d better not. Keli snorts the next line and her head quivers the way it always does; a quick, almost imperceptible jolt that most people wouldn’t see, the bullet striking home.

Sandra takes the next one and her eyes glaze for a few seconds as she stares at her reflection in the mirror, her hand rubbing softly at her nose. “Just rub it in circles,” says Keli. She knows that a persons’ first time can be a bit uncomfortable. I’m surprised she remembers her first time with it being so long ago.

Keli and Sandra look at each other: “Fuck them all!” they shriek in unison. The three of us jauntily take our leave of the now stifling bathroom, each grinning like the village idiot. With cocaine playing its wonderful game on our dopamine receptors, it’s going to be very difficult to put us down tonight.

We head to the dance floor, and Keli has spotted something she likes. I lose sight of her roundabout approach towards mister whoever because I’ve seen something I like too. At the centre of the dance floor is a girl and we lock eyes. She’s blonde and very pretty and her smile is inviting. We do that awkward dance floor shuffle, maneuvering through the swaying crowd, tripping over feet and bumping into legs whilst trying to maintain an element of finesse. Next we’re dancing together, my hands on her hips and hers round my neck. It’s like living in TiVo, the same story again and again. I chase the same notion of love every night, almost always succeeding in finding someone to pretend to have something in common with and take home, to distract myself from the fact that my relationships are as emotional as the inside of an empty operating theatre, and that I chase after anything I can that’ll help me forget that fact.

I find out her name is Nicola, and the night continues with drinks at my place. A few covert trips to the bathroom to top up and we’re on our way – same old same old.

I know the morning’s going to be bad because of the light. It cuts into my psyche like a surgeons’ scalpel through flesh, and that’s just the light. The inside of my fragile mind feels broken, and the world looks terrifying threatening. I don’t know how I’m going to deal with Nicole.

Thankfully she’s one of those ones; pragmatic. She’s picked up her stuff and is nowhere to be seen. Probably woke up next to my scrawny frame and decided to scram. Fucking slut, but at least I don’t have to deal with her today.

And so it goes. I’ll have a few glasses of water and get through the day. At least I don’t have to chug three espressos and get to work, thank god for the holidays. Tonight will likely be the same as last, and tomorrow the same as today, just a little gloomier.

But for a few hours tonight it’ll all be great again, just wish someone would draw that fucking curtain closed.