newfoundglory92's Blog

It's been months since that dark stormy night which forever changed my life. I haven't been able to write about it, maybe out of fear, and maybe I've been running from the unbearable truth that I cannot accept to be true. 

On a beautiful summer day on vacation, away at the beach.. my brother and I are told to sit down. Awaiting what I had expected to be a punishment due to the discovery of more drugs in my room, or a discussion on the sober living house my brother would have been moving to soon.. instead the next sentence changed my life forever. My dad spoke to us in a very low voice (my dad has always been known for speaking loudly). He told us that mom was in love with someone else. Tears come to my eyes as I write this sentence, as if I'm reliving it all over again. The pain just as fresh as it was in that very moment. 

My mother soon left and moved to Texas, leaving not only my dad but my brother and I as well. For a little while I lived in shock, pretending it was all just a dream. I still spoke to my mom, though with anger and confusion. But soon I came to realize I don't know who she is anymore. I look at her, I see my mother, the women who raised me and cared for me.. but it's not her anymore. I don't know who this cruel, selfish person is. We stop speaking...Thanksgiving comes. We spent this day of thanks screaming at each other and crying. Our conversations go in circles. I feel as if I'm now speaking with a child, instead of an adult. She cannot seem to relate to my feeling of abandonment in any way at all. 

Christmas... was more civil then Thanksgiving, but still an overwhelming sense of childishness and the lack of an ability to relate to me was the only thing I had received from her. I knew I could not speak to her again until I felt I could handle it... After we had spoke on Christmas day..I fell deeply into a dark depression, similar to the ones I had experienced when I was on medication, but this time... I couldn't escape it just by simply stopping the medication. I slept almost 24 hours a day, and when I could manage to place my feet on the floor, I would do nothing but eat and watch tv only to transport myself into another world beyond my terrible reality. 

After a month and a half of this horrible way of life during winter break.. I then went back to my apartment in Pennsylvania with a plan to retrieve my life back from the ruins in which my mother had left it.  I got a job at a movie theater which I love, I'm waiting to see if I'll be hired at the hookah lounge as a second job, I got a therapist, I meditate, and I joined the Y to begin my passion of swimming once again. All things to better myself, so I can prove to myself I can manage my life without her, and that I don't need her. Once I know I can be on my own without the support of my mother, maybe I can think about piecing back together the relationship she had drowned many months ago. 

I have managed to rise from the death of depression and accomplish all of my goals to better myself. I am on my own, but still something is missing... and I've realized the missing piece that I must finish before I can even try to resurrect our relationship. The missing piece is having a support system of friends. I don't have that up here in Pennsylvania, and in order to feel I have myself together I need that missing piece...It may take a while for the last piece to fall into place though. It is still very hard for me, even though I have done so much to improve myself.. I'm still so sad. and It still hurts just as bad as it did from the very moment that had changed my life forever.

As darkness descends over the sky, I sit alone in my room with a slight sadness, and anxiousness that seems to be exploding from within. My gaze falls on the night stand beside my bed. The torn wrapper, rests with a stillness where it had been placed the night before. My panties sit where they had been throw with eagerness. My handcuffs sprawled across the floor. My thoughts drift to him. He never spoke with me today like I requested. I now wonder if I ever should have set foot through his door at all. He is proving himself to be alike with the dirty jersey boys I have been infatuated with. Is he just like the rest? Again... another boy, too fearful to stand up and be a man? 

I was wrong about him. He eventually spoke with me as i had asked. and even though he has a girlfriend we continued to mess around. I never pictured myself doing the "other women" thing but I guess this was a freshman year college exception. Is it horrible for me to say it was incredibly fun?  After about a dozen or so repeats of that first night his girl almost found us out. Within that moment we slid back into being just friends immediately. The next night however, the bar had a halloween costume thing which I stumbled home from. Out in front of my apartment drunk, dressed from head to toe in a sexy egyptian erotic dancer outfit, and with a cigarette in my hand I run across the street and knock on his door. I went over just to say hello as friends and expecting nothing but his hands spoke louder then his words spoken from the day before. When I left I was halfway back across the street to my apartment when I realized I wasn't wearing any panties. I darted back across the street half naked in my outfit and shivering as I began to sober up. I banged on his door. At this point I knew he was already passed out because he was drunk as well and mumbled goodnight as he fell into bed when I left. I nervously continued to bang on the door. When he finally opened the door he said "girl yer killin' me" in a sexy but exhausted manner. I said nothing, sped passed him and into his room. I held up my panties in front of him and said "no I'm savin' yer ass." He smiled, said goodnight and fell back into bed. 

When I got back to my place and fell into bed myself I realized something. I was having a lot of fun with him but I suddenly just wanted to be friends again. It was nice to be the one to initiate just being friends again for once. I've never been the one to do it. 

We hung out as just friends and it went well. I kicked his ass in N64 four times in a row. It makes me happy that we can still be friends. I was nervous this would end as the rest., (as rivals and never speaking again) because he is my neighbor. I hope to continue to hang out as friends... I fear that even though we hung out as friends once, it won't happen again.  We'll see I guess................

Just as I predicted we never spoke after that. and he is my neighbor. I knew from the beginning it was a bad idea, yet again I couldn't help but do it anyway.... do I have to date a 30 year old to date a man? or are they all forever going to be arrogant duchebags? Guys really do only want sex. Guess a deep friendship is too far out of reality for a boy's tiny existence of a heart. 

The black hole that echos of pain leaks from the inner depths of my heart . Once more I was cautious to protect my heart from the sorrowful event of heartbreak, but the unbreakable barrier between the mind's of men and women has violently knocked me to the floor yet again. Time unraveled into thin air when I spent time beside him. I watched myself as I fell for him with knowledge it would become of nothing. Still, I allowed myself to continue, knowing it would only end in disaster. As if the mind was possessed by the heart , I helplessly crawled  towards the blackness that whispered my name. I desperately cry aloud, considering I may never escape the destructive patterns of my love. I let him take from me what I had not yet experienced. His memory will painfully burn, forever in my head. Another boy, too mindfully young to be a man. 

When fear is provoked, the mind reacts in ways that go beyond the minds capacity for right and wrong, and most common sense is lost. Suddenly it becomes all about one's self and no one else enters the mind. Every man is for himself and paranoia begins to eat away at the core of your being. It transforms your lifestyle from free spirited happiness, to an obsession of glancing over your shoulder.

One of the countless reasons I want to break free from the constraints of New Jersey's boundary lines, is because of the continuous apprehension of those marked white cars with well known flashing red and blue lights. There is something about those lights that set off immediate panic and anxiety, when it should be a sign of safety. From the faults I've made, to the events leading up to my brother's overdose, we are now well known in the police force. The image we've given ourselves is not an admirable one, but they do not know who we are. They've only placed a stereotypical judgment on us. With those I'm around they assume I'm in the darkened business of dealing and using as my brother had once been involved with. Now he is in recovery, and I.... I stay in our hometown full of emptiness and I feel that I'm always on the run from them. It's become a fight against the undefeated. Fear and paranoia leak from within the depths of my unconscious. As I drive, I unwillingly dart my eyes back and forth. I search the parameter of where I am and where I'm going for the car I fear most. I do this without thinking. It's become a paranoid habit of routine safety checks.

In Cache the family's growing irritability, distrust, fear, and paranoia lead to their destruction, just like mine has made me lose satisfaction and purpose of living here in this small town.

You say your a failure, when really there is no such thing as a failure. The word is meaningless because there was nothing to fail at before society was created. Society puts those thoughts of failure, and fuck up in you head. They have taught us to think that way about ourselves. It's hard to escape it because it's been instilled in our minds since birth. But if you truly live. You live outside of societies constraints which hold us down can keep us from living. "Everybody dies but not everybody lives." is a truth we cannot ignore, and it inspires me to live and not just die. "My days were more exciting when I was penniless. The freedom and simple beauty is just too good to pass up." Live as if beyond society. Nothing can hold me back!

One in seven. Statistically, only one in seven addicts recover and don’t continue to fight the demon of relapse. The long, seemingly never ending roads of Pennsylvania brings me to a small town in the middle of nowhere; where twenty five guys share a common interest of sobriety. I sit in a crowded meeting full of serious faces. Their words have a truth to them as they are spoken. As we once took everything for granted we now see the actuality in life. As I sit quietly listening to each alcoholic/addict take their turn in volunteering their thoughts, I look around the room of those I’ve become acquainted with the past two days and a guilty thought escapes through the bars of my conscious mind. I grip the thought trying to trap it, not wanting to have thought it. Many of these men sitting in front of me will relapse. Many of these men may lose everything. Many of these men may end up dead. I long for any higher power that there may be, to let my brother be that one in seven.

Much has happened over the last couple years. Much of which I could close my eyes tight and hope I’d wake up from this dreadful dream. Though many detrimental things have crossed our path, it’s what makes us who we are and become who we want to be. My brother left, though his body here in our presence; he was just a skeleton, an empty shell of a human being. He was the “living dead”.  I haven’t seen my brother truly smile in an extensive period of time. My brother’s soul was taken by this black hearted drug, and now we struggle to rip it back from the distant world of grey. A few short months ago he was worthlessly sick and now with inner motivation he is healthier then before his first use. Day by day he changes himself for the better. He continuously goes to the gym and becomes ecstatic as we praise him for the weight he’s gained and how he looks. He has learned to be a part of something as he once was not. As a group they share duties of cooking and cleaning and other things as well. 

I fear…. I fear the future. “Sobriety is a journey, not a destination.” It is a lifelong devotion towards fighting a disease. One in seven. The small ratio makes me uneasy, but I have faith in my brother. He seems to have a drive of motivation towards victory. Sometimes I wonder how we got to this place but I’ve come to realize it’s not where we’ve been that has context, its where were going that truly will shed light on which we are. “A thousand miles begins with a single step”, and with that single step we will succeed.

Senior year. The year many become closer with their friends. The year many don't want to end. Senior year. I have become distant, confused, and lost. I have lost who I am and who I am supposed to be. I have become an empty being, soulful but dark. No one seems to care for me the way I do for them. My friends become unrealistic. They are no longer there for me as I am for them. I feel used, and beaten. Ripped apart. My heart aches with every movement I make. I try to cover up my pain with a smile that will soon be unbarable to make. Nothing is left for me in this town. My friends and I are distant. My brother has left this town behind, though it is for the better, I am left to fend for myself here, and alone. It's time for me to move on in another direction, but the chains of my high school diploma tie me to this forsaken town. Down the flattened roads of a nearby state, I visit my college. My home of the years to come. I felt a sense of belonging within the beauty of the unfamiliar. The freshness of the air filled my lungs. The friendly faces of the town shine light through darkness. Standing on the street corner I knew I was meant to be there. I fit in, where as I didn't back home. Jumping over obstacles that stand in my way, I struggle every day just to graduate high school. My freedom is always one step to far from my reach and I am running out of strength to do it....

The warmth of the sun surrounds our bodies with comfort. His open windows allows a gentle breeze to lift our emotions. The wooden door that seperates us from his father downstairs is held open slightly with expected distrust. Edging closer to one another we speak of heavy topics. When his mother swung the door open, finding a needle barely clenched in his hand as he nodds out. Slapping him with a fist. He closes his eyes as he searches for the pictures in his head of rememberence. Back to present day, he is in a clean state, just released from inpatient. My brother consumes my mind for a moment. I tell him of my heart ache. We get closer. His lips touch mine gently. I grab his shirt with a strong hold and I pull him ontop of me. With him between my legs, he sits up to slide my shorts off. The warmth of the air envelops my legs. The touch of his hands and lips, I longed for when he was out of town. Sitting up, my legs tightly wrapped around his body. I throw my arms up and connect my eyes with his with a look that represents my eagerness. He pulls at the bottom of my gray tank and lifts it over my head. Being released from the tightness of my shirt, I feel a sense of freedom and comfort within the norm. Giving in to my temptation, I passionately tug him towards me. Our lips mend together with an edgy roughness. He bites at my neck forcing me to lose control of the silence that surrounds us. Changing the scene, he lays on his back with the comfort of his bed beneath him. His arms up near his head, I gain authority over his body. With my head down, his eyes close. His enjoyment drives me to accelerate. Yeah, yeah, right there escapes his lips as he is sexually satisfied. Replacing my body where his had been, I lay with my hands up near my head. His head between my thighs, one foot rests over his shoulder. I grip at the blankets that lay at my side. The atmosphere and warmth of the room adds to my sensuality. Afterwards, I search for my clothes which had been thrown about the room. He takes a sip of the crisp arizona iced tea we had opened earlier. He laughs in amusement and says I gave his tounge a bit of a work out. With my clothing as it once was, I lay across his bed towards the oversized open windows aluminating the room with sun. I light a cigarette. This cigarette had an unequally towards the rest I've had lately. It lifted my spirit and made my heart flutter. I began to savor this cigarette and craved another afterwards.

My thoughts of him seem to follow me for days after. They deepen every second I think about this day of warmth. He seems to have hidden pain and my soul aches to be the one to free him from his sorrowful thoughts. But this may never happen because his mind is in a different place then mine. I wonder if I am foolish to have let that thought even cross my mind.... One day I will find the answer I am looking for.

He's my brother. It doesn't look like him, and no longer acts like him. He's infected with the strong hold of heroin. The missing items around the house influence my thoughts towards him. He lies like its a second nature. The lies he speaks become his truth. He believes the lies he tells himself and it becomes an altered reality. A trip to the hospital, surrounding family members and friends, awakes surviving conscience hidden behind black and yellow. My mother's hysteria makes my skin crawl. Cracking under pressure, within the standards an eighteen year old can handle, I go out for a smoke with my friends just a few footsteps from the emergency room. Someone somewhat in my ache for love stops by to hold me. The hug was comforting even within the walls that were now crumbling. My mother shifts the blame to me as if she's angry at me, as if it's my fault because I identified what he was doing before they did, but why can't she relax stressed muscles in the comfort that he is okay? My mind sorts through memories, and moments in the recent past. I wonder, what if I had said something. I knew he was spiraling downward and I did nothing to stop it. Is it my fault as well, or is this only a thought my mother provoked?

In a higher place. My mind in the clouds. My body, non existant. Only my mind was able to continue movement of thought. A revelation renewed my soul and allowed me to float higher and higher. It all came together. It all made sense. My saddness had deepend with the loss of my brother's interest in anything, including spending time with me, but putting my brother's necessities in front of my own has opened my eyes. He needs me more now then he ever has before, and I couldn't see it. My knowledge was blinded by my selfish anger. Things have became lighter in this department as we spend time together, and smoke in the fresh warmth of the melting snow. We share conversation as we once had, and create new memorable stories of laughter.

Besides gaining friendship back with my brother in hopes to attain his happiness, I have also completed the program of rehab I had been sent to. I am back to my old ways. I feel like myself again. I also found that I have passed the math portion of the hespa needed to graduate. Overwhelmed by this feeling of completion, stress is releved from my soul like a bad energy escaping from the claws of my body's encasement. I also finish up my senior paper to confirm my graduation. Even so, as all these things that had been held high over my head for so long diminsh into thin air, I still feel the saddness eating at my insides. I tried to shove it aside for a period of time, it finally pursued its way to my inner heart... I still love him. There is nothing that will change this fact. I care for him more then ive ever cared for anyone in my entire life. I had thought I was in love before, but I was wrong until I met you. You showed me how to love to my full potiental. I found things in myself I had overlooked before. I have truly fallen in love this time, but I know we will never be hole again... that goes for the spot in my heart where you used to be as well. Im not sure where I will end up.. but I will hold my head high and look forward to the things I do have in my life. Including thursday hook ups during and after community service with a friend who works there with me. I'll let this week play out and see where it leads me. Maybe in time you will fade from my vision, but never from my heart...

My body is theoretically ripped at the seems. Bruised and broken more then ever before. Everything I care for collapses around me, leaving me standing in the middle with no where to hide. Four hundred bills have diminished from my sight, without a finger print left behind, my mind jumps from person to person. I even suspect my own flesh and blood. His depression has deepend. His drug use has increased. He is not who he used to be, someone else has inhabited his soul. I unceartainly believe that his name is heroin. We spoke more when he was away. Away from this town. Away from this towns damage that is put apon its people that live like mice. We think we have our own free will, but in a town like this.. It swallows you whole. It does this slowly, without your comprehenion as it works its way inside your soul. It saddens me as he talks for hours with his newest infatuation, though right next to me he doesn't speak more then a word or two. Everything has changed, and not for the better. The events that have taken us away from happiness will never be erased. It may have changed our lives forever. Will he ever be freed from the destruction this town resides? Or will it bring us all down with it, absorbing our teen life as well as adulthood. My life spirals downward as everything falls loosely from my grip. My graduation from high school is at stake. In fear and anxiety I can no longer sleep. My good driving tactics as well as my happiness has decreased with my clean and sober ways. Rehab has come to an end as of today is my last day. I can regain steady driving along with my freedom I should have had from the start. But this does not fix all of my problems that have been unearthed from darkness. I focus on the endpoint of which I leave this town. Make a new life. A new start to my freedom and being. I fear it as well as I desire it, though change is always intimidating at first. Is a new beginning all I need to bring back what used to be? Or is there more to it then that, especially for those id be leaving behind?   

 Full of intensities that are unimaginable. They flow through your soul with the infulence to chance your live as it is. The suttle being of humanity is non existent in the space of time. We are big but we are small. Who are we? I cannot answer this question. none of us can. Our esscense is to intense to explain within words. My thoughts extend to a length where there isnt enough comprehention to put into existing words of the language we have come to speak.  

Not who I expected, but our lips touched. With the taste of liquor on your toungue, i bite at your lips. Tracing my toungue around your lips, I let you take a glimpse of what's to come. I lick the tip of your nose and listen to the noise you make, followed by the words, so sexy. Alone in my car in a crowded parking lot. A interesting place and time. A car pulls up next to us. Friends of ours look, shake their heads laughing, and drive off. My brother, in sight across the ceament parking lot. I watch you swirm in worry. I playfully laugh at this, lean forward and whisper, it's alright. Regaining his comfort, he pulls something from his jeans. Out of nowhere a bang on the window, and the pull of the handle leads the cold air flooding in. It's my brother and my friend! They jump in the back seat. Us in the front, still a little exposed. The delayed motions of his drunken state cause him to cover with only his hands. I help by pulling at his jeans, though I do this helplessly laughing because he quickly sits upright, as if nothing was happening. I have knowledge that my brother can't do anything about what im doing. He isnt protective like that. Only when I need him to be. But in this case only laugher was exchanged. Though only a hook up, I hate to admit even in my mind that this could be something more. I can't figure out why I always flip everything ino different terms.

For a while my consistant thoughts of you drifted into the hidden shadows of my mentality, now as I fall deeper into the vortex of blackness, my thoughts of you and I resurface. Every memory of us floats about in my head, from the moment we first met to the last moment we spoke. I'm still in love with you and I can't surpress it anymore. I miss.... every single minute spent with you. I wonder how I got to this place of dark days and months. I hold my eyes shut, without a shed of light peering through, and I wish for the days I had with you back. I wish to rewind back to where I was exceedingly happy with my love for you. Please somehow help me let go.... I can't bare carry around this pain and heartache I feel every second that passes. It's destroying my emotional outlook of life and transforms me into someone I don't want to be. It links hands with the rest of my life, and in a pattern they fall apart as I do myself. My anger. My rage. My despair. It's all spiraling outward from the center of my issues. You. My love, that I thought I finally had in my grasp, but not long enough to possess more then a glimpse of what happiness could be. Again I come back to the lost, empty feeling, asking myself why is my heart always the one thats broken. Why can I not gain happiness and not let my grip loosen. Every time I fall even deeper, and every time I feel I cannot and prepare my fragiale heart for another heartsick feeling like this. Even though you damaged my heart the most, I will hold on and fight the fight to the very end. 

Two weeks have passed my life without my recollection. Time is an endless battle to return to whom I used to inhabit. I enjoy the moments in which I have now but my mind has split in two. Who I want to be sits impatiently on the sidelines awaiting the game that I used to involve myself with. I wonder where my happiness has hidden. I even stoop low to the thought of gaining an anit-depressant along with finding an anxiety medication that works for me. Once the thought passed through the cycle of my brain I can't seem to let it escape into times past realm. I am slowly seeping into the flattness of this page. My body motionless, but my mind still frantically operating. I fear I will lose myself forever if I dont't fight this battle. Thoughts of abandoning the ongoing battle against society flutter thoughtout my soul, but my inner being reveals itself under the constant negitive contemplation in which my mind undergoes and persuades me not to recoil who I've become.  

Day one of rehab went something like a thearapy session. They act as if they really care about what's going on in my life. She trys so hard to ask me questions and she got no further answer then "I don't know."  You aint my friend. You aint here to help. Your just a liar. Trying to get me into more trouble then Im already in. Life without the herb marijuana sucks. As you may know from my recent blogs I have really bad anixety. I am now off of Lexapro because it increased my depression to a disastrous manner. It destroyed my life as I knew it. I became someone I did not recognize. But without medication and without my everyday extra ciricular activity of relaxtion I've become a wreck of anxiety.  I'm irritable all the time and I have developed more sleeping troubles then i had before. I miss my way of bonding with my brother and also my friends. Rehab only is making me a nicotine fiend which is going to be hard to contain after I am released from the hell within the walls of that so called "Help" center. I'll hold up as long as I can. I'm gonna be strong until I collapse. I count down the days and save the bills for an ounce when I am freed from being held hostage of my fake rights. Until then I plan to focus on the finish line of my community service hours. Also I plan to become more skilled at skiing. I can't wait to flick that bic, and hear the familiar bubbling sounds as the greens crackle. That taste on my lips as I exhale. That smile on my face as I become relaxed from within. I count down the weeks... I count down the days... until I am me again.

I feel cold, though my body is warm. I feel empty, though my stomach is full. I feel heartless, though my heart beats strong. The puffy redness of my eyes show the world my pain in which I can no longer hold inside the walls of my aching soul. I scream but no one responds. Not a single head is turned. I am invisible as if i've crossed over from an existing world, into a limbo of emptiness. My strength decays as my material body crumbles. The words I speak have no meaning because no one is here to listen. My helpless words are childlike in the eyes of the mighty wisdom of "adults". My motivation to go onward drains from my, now frigid soul. Today is friday and I couldn't even pull my self image together enough to go to school. My appearence displays my misery without alarm. I no longer share a fear of what people think of who I am or what is going on. I'm so far down the rabbithole you could call me Alice. I'm small. I'm big. I'm frightend. I still feel the buried determination in my heart trying to leak free. It reveals itself in bursts of fury. I wonder when someone will finally listen to the words falling out of my weary lips. Listen and not only hear....

It comes to an end where I must make a choice. One path leads to more lies. This road can become a dark and lonely one; with no support. The other, depending on how it pans out, could be easier. I have a hard choice to make. Tell my parents I smoke pot, or try to suceed in going to the court ordered sessions without them knowing. Instead of speaking to my shelterd guardians maybe I should tell the world my view on this topic.

In the young tender ages, I never thought id end up here. Smoke trailing out my lungs. Take a step back. Look outside the box. Beyond what society's views tell us to do. It's more then an illegal substance. If i had never chose this path i wouldnt be who i am now. My relationships with everyone around me wouldnt be as bonded within. My brother and I wouldnt be as connected as we are. We have eachothers backs in ways that we wouldnt if this had not played out the way it did. I feel closer to him then i ever thought i would be. Smoking pot is not just about getting high for me. Its become a spiritual bonding time with learning who I am and who I want to become. It is an experience I share with others. It is a way to feel a strength in the relationship you hold with another.

There comes a time when you think things can't get any worse then they already are. That's a non realistic truth. I had fallen in the loop of a juvenile delinquent in the eyes of the law. It forms a tunnel through time that holds me captive and never relases me, not even for a single breathe of relief. They Send me from one obstacle to another. It's as if someone is toying with my life and won't loosen their grip upon my helpless limbs. I am sent to be evaluated at every angle of my life. I am seen as a criminal because I drink alcohol and relax in the sun smoking herbs. When I set foot in the examination room, they hand me a small cup that I have come to know all to well. A piss test. An expression on my face reveals that it will not come up clean. I'm not sure where this will have me end up. Probably in rehab for bud. What a joke. Let's say i show up. I sit in the vacant seat next to a washed out heroin addict. When asked, he states that he is addicted to heroin. When I am asked why I am inside the walls of this rehabilitation center, I will say I am here because I like to smoke pot. With a fearless smile on my face, it represents that I am free to be and I will not change. For now, I will not worry where I will end up. My distraught contemplations are set free from my mind as I type.

Besides that, my thoughts now drift towards my anxiety medication that I have been consuming. As I get into the second week's worth of pills, I weaken and become more depressed. This has made it clear to me that I need to switch medications before I feel worse.

A small note before I leave you to absorb my thoughts. My close friend and I, sat within the darkness of silence, and flicked a flame to greens. It amazed me after all this time, she finally smoked with me. It's strange how thoughts change within time.

As the weekend approached my brother drove the distance back home to visit. When he arrived in our old town I was at a party. He wanted to see me and told me that he was coming in about an hour or so. When I called, he didn't answer. I knew something was up. I left the party around two and drove home. I fell asleep thinking he had just gone out with friends and that we would hang out the next day. Collapsing into the warmth of my bed, I am surrounded by the comfort of my room. The not so soft sound of my phone vibrating wakes me. Drowsy from the three hours of sleep I had gotten, I say hello? It's my brother. He calmly asks where I told our unsuspecting parents that he was. I told him that I had said he was supposed to come meet me at the party but he never picked up his phone, which was the truth. After this phone call I never went back to the quiet darkness of sleep. I heard my parent's distressed voices beyond the walls of my room. Now, not even the anxiety pills I had taken would help me breathe through the stressful, unknown drama that has my parents awake at 530am. I lay in bed for a couple more hours before setting foot out into reality. My mothers puffy eyes was a direct instinct of my knowing something was wrong. Joining me in being arrested, my brother had been arrested for possesion of heroin. As the red and blue lights created panic, someone tossed it on the floor in the back of the car to put the blame elsewhere. This is why my brother never answered his phone as he usually does when I call. Our family contiunes to deal with alot of stress. My brother knows he fucked up, and worries about being kicked out of the school where he has found himself most. I am concerned for him to. I hope things work out in his favor.

Besides this, I joined my brother the next day at a party. It was nice to spend time with him even though he was really upset about the passed night. It was a pretty good night even though some shit went down at the party. It wasn't directed towards me so it was okay. 

I have backed my way out of a friendship only to keep my friend on edge and see if she misses me. Turns out she does alot. She, drunk visiting a friend at a college. I, high at a party. She texts me speaking of how she misses me and how she wants to hang out and party with me. She mentions that she had gotten high before. Now, this is my friend ive known for ten years. She has never done any drugs of illegal susbtance. She only drinks. Now she tells me she has gotten high before three times. This bothers me because she didn't tell me. Not only did she not tell me, she did't smoke greens with me. Me. The girl that loves smoking pot and sitting under a tree in the sunlight which shines gracefully arcoss the beauty of this planet. It hurts me that she had not done this with me for the first time she did it. She states that she was afraid to tell me beacuse she thought id be mad. I'm not mad, im hurt. I plan on telling her this and my hope is for her to smoke with me. It would satisfy me and reconnect us as friends. It would bring relief of my pain in which was created when she hadn't done this with me in the first place.