Almost all my memories are good ones. The addict in my life is my friend of many years. Our relationship was platonic, but it was one of those cherished, special bonds with (what I thought would be) a lifelong friend. We lived 1000 miles apart, so we spent all our time together on the phone. We used to talk everyday for hours and hours. We laughed, we cried, we shared our deepest secrets. We talked about everything and nothing. When we ran out of things to say, we would work a crossword puzzle together or watch a TV show over the phone. When I would arrive home from work, the phone would be ringing before I even got the key in the door, and we'd talk until midnight when she had to go to sleep. Sometimes, the phone would ring 10 minutes later and she'd say, "I got a second wind!". God, I miss her so much!!
After she met her "new friends" (junkies, dealers), it was just a matter of weeks before she had a daily habit of coke, pills and pot. She stopped calling me and stopped taking my calls. On the rare occasions when we did communicate, she was not even recognizable person that I knew for so many years. I know that by shutting me out, she spared me of so many of the horrors of addiction, but that doesn't seem to make it any easier for me.
It has been over two years, and the good memories with my friend are still sad for me and make me cry. I'm hoping that it is just a matter of time. I know when my mom died ten years ago (not drug related), it took a few years before I was able to smile instead of cry when I thought of the good times we shared. But with my mom's death, I was forced to accept the finality of the situation. With my addict friend, I constantly feel like I'm waiting for something to happen. My life has been at a standstill since her addiction started. (I'm trying to move forward, but it's one step forward, two steps back). If it turns out that the good times with my friend will never be anything other than memories of the past, then I hope I can at least get to the point where I can enjoy those memories.