“Did you want to fall, Alex? Your mother said she tried to help you but you kept fighting her and telling her that you wanted to die.”
His eyes were so eerily calm despite everything he had just been through. Leah wanted to shake him, do something to get a reaction out of him, but he was numb.
“All I remember is Rose calling out to me, but I don’t remember saying anything to her. I may have, though. I’m sure I did if she said I did. She wouldn’t lie about that, and it’s not hard to believe that I would have pushed her attempts at help away. I’ve been doing it to you for years.”
At least he was being honest. “Your mother has been talking to a counselor. They want to do an intervention.”
That got a reaction out of him. “Oh, Lord,” he scowled. “My mother watches too much television.”
“I think it helps some people, but I don’t think it will help you. I told your mother not to bother.”
Alex flinched. “You think I can’t be saved?”
“I think only you can save you. You have to make up your mind and believe you are worth saving. We all see it, but until you do, nothing we say will matter. You know exactly how much you’ve hurt all of us. Telling you in an intervention is not going to make it sink in any better for you. Sometimes I don’t even think you care about how much you’ve hurt us. You certainly don’t care enough to stop.”
Alex sat up in the bed. His eyes bore into hers. There was so much anger, so much pain.
“You want the truth, Leah? The truth is I do know how much I’ve hurt you. You don’t even know how badly I’ve hurt you, but I will tell you now. Then you tell me if I’m worth saving.”
Part of Leah wanted to run out now before he said something that could never be taken back, but she couldn’t walk away now. She once criticized Alex for being a runner. She wouldn’t be the hypocrite. She would listen to him no matter how much it hurt. He was giving her the truth. It was time she accepted it.
“Detox was hell. Pure torture. I just wanted to die. Death was better than the agony of withdrawal. My insides felt like they were ripping apart. I was nauseous all the time. There were moments I was so cold that my whole body shook, and then I would be so hot it felt like I was in the fires of hell. My skin was crawling. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. The worst moments of heroin paled in comparison to the withdrawal from it. The pain never ended. The counselors told me that it would lessen in a week or two, but after two weeks I still felt like I was better off dead.”
Leah sat down in the chair by the bed. Something about his expression warned her that the worst was yet to come.
“I didn’t leave detox, Leah,” he continued. “I was kicked out. Another patient there offered me pills. She got her hands on some Percocet. It wasn’t heroin, but it was better than nothing. She offered me a deal. I wanted the drugs, she wanted me. A fair exchange.”
Leah was too restless to sit. The news robbed her of breath. She stood up frantically, nearly losing her balance.
Of all the things she imagined him saying, this wasn’t one of them. This hurt more than anything—more than any pain he caused before. She would hear it all, though. It was time for honesty between them after so many years of lies.
“You basically prostituted yourself for drugs,” Leah accused him. “You cheated on me to get drugs.”
“Yes,” he responded without hesitation. “I slept with her and I hated every moment of it. Even the drugs didn’t take away the guilt and disgust. All I could think about was that I failed you again. I confessed my sins to the counselors, thinking they might give me an absolution for my honesty, but no. They thanked me for coming forward then kicked me out for breaking the rules. I tried to do the right thing after screwing up and all I got in return were my walking papers. So I came back home to you, but I was far from clean. In many ways, I was more messed up than I was before.”
“You were never clean?” Leah asked. Was he pretending the whole time, she wondered?
“I had detoxed, but the desire was as strong as ever once I came home. Now I had to face my guilt on top of all my other crimes. There was only one way I could cope with all those warring emotions tearing me up inside. The day after I got back, I bought some Vicodin from my former dealer. Somehow I rationalized that it was better than taking heroin. But the pills weren’t enough. I missed the heroin. I missed the high. I was taking my frustrations out on you. I was sniping at you and starting stupid arguments because I was dying inside. I accused you of cheating because I had cheated and I didn’t have the courage to confess. Cowardice was my downfall. As things worsened between us, the easier it was for me to justify using again. I needed the escape. I needed the relief. The first time I gave into the temptation for heroin was that day in the doctor’s office. I went to the restroom and passed one of the empty exam rooms. Those needles called out to me. I was sweating and shaking trying to fight it, but I couldn’t walk away. No one was there to stop me and I didn’t have the strength to stop myself. I took the needles from the cabinet and went straight to my dealer’s. That night was the first time I had shot up since rehab, and I’ve been using ever since.”
Leah leaned up against the wall, needing distance from him. She wanted the truth, but it was harder to take than she expected. It was hard to believe this was the man she loved. That he could hurt her this way. And he wasn’t done yet.
“I didn’t have enough money for drugs, so I pawned your engagement ring. I had it in my pocket since the morning I found you in the bathroom getting sick. I held onto it waiting…for what I am not sure, but I kept it. I should have just returned it to you. I was keeping it like it was some kind of test. When you didn’t mention it, I used that as an excuse to pawn it. Like it was meant to be for me to take it because if it was meant for you to have it, you would have asked me about it. I know it’s stupid, but I was looking for an excuse so I conjured this one up in my head to justify doing the unjustifiable. When the moment was right, I went to the pawn shop and used it to get heroin. I had the needles from the doc’s office and the money from your ring. I had everything I needed to get wasted, and that’s how I spent the rest of that day. By the next day, I was back in my heroin-induced glory. I didn’t want to take it before the party at your boss’s place, but I brought it just in case. When the alcohol didn’t take the edge away, I found the restroom and shot up. The combination of the heroin and alcohol wasn’t ideal for me, so I made an ass of myself and of you and the party. Because I felt guilty about that, I just indulged in more heroin until I was too high to care about what I had done. Here I am now. Right where I started, but worse because I overdosed this time.”
It was as if everything Leah had feared had come true, but deep down she’d known the truth all along. She chose not to see the signs because she wanted to believe in him. She ignored what was right in front of her and lived in her land of make believe because that was a safer place for her. As much as she wanted to blame Alex for the duplicity, for his lies, she had to own up to her culpability for ignoring the truth. She’d succumbed to denial again.
For so many years, she had played this role of the ignorant lover. The only time she would acknowledge Alex’s problem was when it was just too blatant to deny.
Even as teenagers, she saw the track marks on his arm but never asked how he got them. She noticed the dramatic mood swings, the change in his eyes, but never confronted him about it. She heard the lies and recognized the falseness of his words, but never challenged him to tell her the truth.
She was a co-conspirator in his addiction because she didn’t want to face it. Just as she had done as a teenager, she spent all these months since his time out of rehab just looking the other way and unrealistically hoping things would magically get better.
At least he was finally being brave enough to speak the truth that they had spent years hiding from. “Why are you telling me this now? You’ve been lying for so long, why stop?”
“Because I want you to know that I’m not worth saving. I’m a liar, thief, cheater, and a junkie. Why would you fight for this?” he asked as he held out his arms. “Please go. Don’t come back, Leah. I’ve got nothing to give you but pain. I’m already dead on the inside. Soon, this drug will make sure I’m dead for good. Why stay and watch me die? Why risk letting me take you to hell with me? Just go, Leah. Move on with your life, marry Marcus or a guy like him and give our baby a good father. There’s nothing here anymore.”
Seeing him there. Hearing the finality of his words. Leah had to leave. It hurt too much to stay. The Alex she loved was already gone. The gaunt stranger in that bed had taken his place.
Leah grabbed her purse and left. It was time she buried Alex once and for all.
II
Leah stared at her laptop trying to come up with another article, but all she could think about was Alex. Rose had called to ask her to come to the intervention she planned for this evening. Leah doubted Alex would show up. Rose hadn’t seen him since he checked himself out of the hospital, but she left messages and planned this intervention hoping he would make an appearance. Leah knew him so well and there was no doubt that Alex would not show if he suspected for one moment that this was the plan.
Still, Leah was tempted to go out of curiosity more than anything, but it had been a month since she’d last seen him and the pain of that conversation was still too raw. She thought, if anything, she might make things worse. She wasn’t emotionally prepared to confront him. She was still sorting through her own conflicting emotions.
She could forgive him for the affair. She could forgive him for the lies. What disturbed her most was that Alex no longer wanted to live. She could see the truth in his eyes, that the overdose was no accident. Alex had quit on her, on them, on their family, and she wasn’t sure she could forgive him for that—not after everything they had been through.
Leah did not doubt how difficult withdrawal was for a heroin addict. She read harrowing stories of addicts trying to survive the excruciating pain of withdrawal. Heroin was one of the worst. It was physically, mentally addictive. It was virtually impossible to beat without professional help.
Even that kind of help did not guarantee success. She recalled one story of a young man who was treated with methadone to help deal with the heroin withdrawal. Four years later, this man was facing methadone withdrawal. The treatment for his addiction became his new addiction.
There were no words to describe Leah’s hatred for that white powder. It had taken so much from her.
Maybe there were words after all, she thought. Maybe it was time for her to face the true enemy.
She opened up her laptop and began to type.
For the Love of Alex
I have been struggling with this article, trying to find the right words to describe the ache in my heart, the emptiness that addiction has caused.
I have never taken an illegal drug in my life, yet drugs have taken away so much of my life. They have left me raw and alone. They’ve broken my heart, crushed my spirit, seized my light, and blinded me with darkness. Drugs have left me in pieces that no longer fit together.
This is what it feels like to love an addict. This is what it feels like when an addict loves his drugs more than you.
For years I have waged a war I was never in a position to win. I was in a fight for the love of my life against a malicious white powder that ruthlessly stole my lover’s life and my future.
Heroin. It is a greedy thief in the night that lures its victims with momentary pleasure until its victim is so dependent on that brief taste of euphoria that he can no longer find pleasure in anything else. All that matters, all he wants, is the white power.
The white powder keeps taking until there is nothing left to lose. Family, friends, careers, all gone. All that remains are the empty promises of the white powder. When its victim is stripped of everything, the white powder takes its euphoria way. The victim keeps searching for what will never be found and the more he consumes the closer he is to death and final victory for the white powder.
I’ve watched heroin slowly and methodically destroy the life of one of the most beautiful souls. I’ve watched his light fade and his eyes glaze. His hands so swollen from collapsed veins and infections. His muscular body now gaunt and weakened. His mind no longer his own. A servant to the white powder that is his wicked master.
I want to believe that there is still hope. I want to believe he can break through heroin’s clutches. The reality for us is that until he believes, he will never be free. I am not so arrogant to believe that my love will save him. It won’t.
I have finally learned that I cannot take on heroin and fight this battle for him. It’s Alex’s fight, but at least I hope he knows that I will never let him fight this war alone.
We have been losing almost every battle in this war against the white powder, but as long as Alex still breathes, we can still win the war. I won’t give up on Alex and I won’t give up on love. I won’t sit by and let Alex give up either. We cannot surrender to this damnable drug.
For the love of Alex, I will fight this white powder and fight beside him. I just hope he will fight beside me. Together we can beat this enemy. Alex can finally be free. We can be free.