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A little part of it in everyone..

January 15, 2011

I get sad when I think of MB and his ‘potential’ that he has seemingly pissed down the lav.. I know I shouldn’t like, ‘judge’ but I do. Think back to him at school, that sooty mop of black hair, those huge bambi eyes.. funny, charming…good at English, great at Art, amazing at Music.. So much fucking potential… We’d sit in our maths class and I’d sneak gazes at him, cos he was so gorgeous. I had a boyfriend however, and didn’t want to break up with him for a ‘maybe’?.. But MB had a little crush on me, and I knew it.. maybe I had one too.. ???

One time, we nearly kissed. Him and me in a sleeping bag, at my place. He swears he wanted to but was too shy. I have a vague memory, of wanting him but then thinking he didn’t want me. We both moved on pretty quickly after that, went our separate ways, he got a girlfriend, went to Art School for a bit and then disappeared to LA, and the dope.  I went to Uni, got married and had kids. Our paths didn’t cross again for a long time. But that’s for another post.

I knew even at school he was hanging in the balance.  His eyes were sad and there was something haunted about him. Or, I thought, he would blaze brighter than anyone..make it big. The only thing he made big was his habit. Heroin found him, at 18, and that was pretty much him gone, until 31. Then there was Methadone…

We’ve talked long into the night about Heroin, and what MB did for it. And what it did for him, or rather to him, in the end.  I listen with a mixture of fascination and repulsion. Try to imagine him, beautiful, delicate looking man, tying off his arm, pumping his veins full of smack.  He says its the most blissful thing ever. Or was, before it became the thing that would nearly kill him. I think I understand what he means.

Oh yeah, for the record, I’m no stranger to drugs, to addiction and all that. I’ve done some stuff. But I never fell in so deep. I was always able to pull away, to know when to stop.  Apart from the booze. That took a long time. But eventually, I did it. Two years now, stone cold sober.   I know things can change and I know I want to. In my world things happen to us, and then we get better. In MB’s world, who knows?

Heroin addicts are frozen in time. Definitely physically, as MB looks so young and gorgeous, but always emotionally. Sometimes I think he’s no older than when we last met, full head of sooty black hair, bambi eyes peeping out from under his hoody. Pretending he hasn’t been out the back for a fag.  There are other times he looks tired, worn out, like an old junky. I hate that. I hate that he can’t DO STUFF, like WORK. I hate that he’s lost the confidence to just go out there And Do It.  And I understand it. This is the price he has paid.   Gone, gone, the damage done….

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