phahadron

An old friend of mine hung himself last week. He was struggling with heroin addiction for the past few years. There is nothing glamourous or cool about what he went through. It just fucking sucks, and it hurts. I miss him. When I first met him, we worked together at a cd store. He was this cool little hippie dude... smart as a whip, soft spoken, kind and good natured... a truly deep and gentle soul. I saw him as a kindred spirit and we became fast friends, bonding over (what else?) our mutual passion for music and film. I actually introduced him to his future fiance' (even though I kinda had a thing for her at the time.) We both eventually moved on and found new and better jobs and started drifting apart a bit. I didn't realize it at the time, but that was when he started using. I would run into his fiance around town here and there and each time it seemed there was always something that she wasn't telling me, until one time the dam broke, so to speak, and she came to me saying how he had stolen from her, his mother, father, GRANDMOTHER and various others in order to feed his addiction. I was completely flabbergasted. That fucking drug destroyed their relationship, tore his family apart and eventually left him homeless, living in an abandoned shopping center. How this bright, witty, charismatic guy, this guy that I saw so much of myself in, could get to the point where he stole from his loved ones and actually held up a couple of pharmacies at gunpoint to get his next fix.... I just don't have the words. I've already lost a prospective family member and childhood friend(my sister's former fiance', the father of my 9 y/o nephew, a guy I''d known since grade school, died from a heroin overdose a few years ago) and now I've lost another compadre. I can't stand it. I FUCKING HATE THAT DRUG. I hate what it does to people. I know I'm ranting a bit and I'm not one to usually share stuff publicly (not much of a blogger, this one) but I had to get it off of my chest. FUCK HEROIN. FUCK WHAT IT DOES TO PEOPLE. I wish that I could have gotten to Brian before that fucking drug dug its talons into him. I can't help but think of all of the different things that I could have done to help him, to try and make him see that the road he was heading down could only lead to pain and misery for the ones who loved and cared for him. I know it's too late and it's all conjecture. I know that I'm taking the high horse on this one. I know that there really wasn't much that I could have done if his own blood relation and love couldn't even get through. That doesn't make it hurt any less though.
I'm sorry, Brian.
I miss you, pal.
I hope that you find peace.