It is late Friday night. I am sorting Lego and listening to 90's alternative music. The songs remind me of the past. I don't feel like lying in bed. This song is playing and I knew there was an old post tied to it. This was originally posted during the height of Billy's addiction. I think the writing is superior to half the stuff I write today.
And We Are Broken
Originally Posted: Monday, February 18, 2013
I want something else
I'm not listening when you say
Goodbye...
I watch Netflix episodes of Alias off my phone in bed. I watch the pounds creep up on my bathroom scale. I have been reading, searching for a place for my voice among other novels-- still, I strain to put anything new together here.
My inner circle comes and goes from the condo. I even went out with Jay and Alexis for a night of drinks at the bar. They reminisced about their childhood sexual experiences together. It was awkward.
Alone in the darkness of my room, thoughts of being content with the limited perceptions of sight, taste, and sound without the pains of a physical body start to become appealing. It can't really be called depression. In accent times, it was one of the original seven deadly sins that affects me--
acedia.
I get that text message, "Hey." One word--
I'm packed, and I'm holding.
I'm smiling; she's living
She's golden. She lives for me
She says she lives for me ovation. She got her own motivation
She comes 'round, and she goes down on me
And I make her smile
It's like a drug for you
Do ever what you want to do
Coming over you
Keep on smiling, what we go through
One stop to the rhythm that divides you
And I speak to you like the chorus to the verse
It is Saturday morning, and Billy wants to hang out, and I agree-- to all it will entail. I pull my Challenger from the garage. The weather has kept me from driving it the last few days. The sky is clear, but a few light snowflakes float on the wind. I haven't checked the weather, but I don't feel like switching vehicles and suffering the hour-and-a-half drive to Billy's house and back in the truck.
We talk on the phone as I drive in her direction. I am anxious to see her; she is anxious for other reasons. I tell her so. "You feel the same way I do right now. There is anticipation running through your skin, except not for me. It is for your drug of choice."
I make good time till I get into the city. I hit a snow squall. The roads turn slick, and visibility is reduced to a quarter mile. The Challenger's 22-inch wheels and low-profile tires are like pontoons on icy pavement. I am reduced to twenty-five miles an hour in the slow lane. There are cars spinning out around me.
The snow is not the kind that will accumulate into inches on the roads. That would be better for the average northern driver. The freeways remained slick, slowing traffic and causing the heat from the undercarriages to make the roads icier. My hands are clenched around the steering wheel.
When I arrive, Billy comes to the car carrying a large purse and two bags filled with clothes. "Have you been kicked out again?" I ask her.
"No." When I express my doubts, she assures me. "You can call my mom if you want."
Physically she looks good. She is the heaviest I have ever seen her. I can tell her mind is not clear. She tells me she is on Xanax and that her stomach is in knots. She has been using another person to acquire heroin, getting them hooked, then piggybacking off them to get her own by pretending the cost is higher until her patsy went to the dealer by himself and figured it out.
The snow in the city has gotten worse. I'm sliding around the streets of Southwest Detroit in parts of town we have no business being. Billy cannot remember half the stuff she is told or does when she is high, but she knows every street in the ghetto. We come to a stop in the middle of a snow-covered street. Cars line both sides. I look out my driver-side window. A burned-out home and an abandoned house are on my left. Several houses on the right don't look much better.
Billy steps out of the car and meets the dealer on the sidewalk. This guy has sold to us before but has never seen my car. We usually buy from one of his runners on a different side street. She is back within seconds. I catch a glimpse of a black guy walking back into a house. I would not be able to pick him out of a line-up. I am not sure I could get back to the same location.
Billy directs me in a series of right and left directions that get me back on the freeway while she unwraps eight foil squares the size of your index fingernail and pours the off-white powder onto her phone screen.
The amount of heroin looks small. The effects, combined with the Xanax, can be seen immediately. She snorts the powder. Within minutes she is 'nodding.' It takes an hour to get out of the city and the snow squalls. Billy appears to be sleeping for the ride, but I can rouse her with a nudge.
Chop another line like a coda with a curse
Come on like a freak show takes the stage
We give them the games we play
She said
"I want something else
To get me through this
Semi-charmed kind of life
Baby, baby
I want something else
I'm not listening when you say
Goodbye..."
When we get home, I put in a pizza. Billy gets comfortable. We make a pot of coffee. Outside, the snow squalls have caught up to us. Big puffy flakes fall in a whiteout of snow. Looking out the windows from the couch, the scene is picturesque.
We eat and play video games. Billy talks of quitting next week. Her movements are slow she has no concentration. Watching her is like watching a person trying to keep from falling asleep during everything she does. It is sad to watch.
I ask her if she has ever seen herself before. She says no. I start recording her with my phone while she is eating. She doesn't notice. I want her to look at the video tomorrow when she is straight. She is compliant and happy when she is on dope. Her mind shuts down, and she has a heightened sense of touch.
Billy snots another bump. When it kicks in, there is no use trying to play video games. She suggests watching a movie, and I agree. We lay on the couch together. I let my hands drift over her soft skin while the movie plays. She gets lost in the sensations of my touch. Billy turns to me, and we kiss.
I let my hands drift down between her legs. Her eyes are closed, and her lips are slightly parted. She is awake, and he breathing reacts to my movements. She begins to rub me. My need for her becomes urgent. We are spooned, with me lying behind her. Both of us have on light pants. I pull them down and enter her from behind.
It has been weeks since I have had sex, and I can control myself long while I am inside her. I cum quickly. Billy is asleep before I get back from cleaning up. I take up my position on the couch and hold her close. I drift in and out of sleep with her while she snores. I'm sure she doesn't remember we even had sex on the couch.
The sky was gold, it was rose
I was taking sips of it through my nose
And I wish I could get back there
Some place back there
Smiling in the pictures you would take
Doing crystal meth
Will lift you up until you break
It won't stop, I won't come down
I keep stock
With a tick tock rhythm
A bump for the drop
And then I bumped up
I took the hit that I was given
Then I bumped again
Then I bumped again, she said
How do I get back there to
The place where I fell asleep inside you
How do I get myself back to
The place where you said
"I want something else
To get me through this
Semi-charmed kind of life
I wake her after midnight. "Billie honey, let's go upstairs."
She apologizes for falling asleep. "In my defense, I usually am in bed by nine at home. I have nothing else to do."
Billy does her final bump before we go upstairs. She takes off all her clothes. I follow suit. In the dark, during foreplay, she comments, "You are not videotaping me, are you?" As if she had some disjointed recollection of my taping her earlier.
"How can I be? The light is off."
We have sex earnestly in the dark. I pound into her hard from behind, feeling my body slap against her soft ass with each thrust. She moans with each stroke. We finish facing each other and fall asleep tangled throughout the rest of the night.
I believe in the faith that grows
And the four right chords could make me cry
When I'm with you, I feel like I could die
And that would be all right
All right
And when the plane came in
She said she was crashing
The velvet it rips
In the city we're tripped
On the urge to feel alive
But now I'm struggling to survive
Those days you were wearing
That velvet dress
You're the priestess. I must confess
Those little red panties
They pass the test
Slides up around the belly
Face down on the mattress
The next morning I have to take her home. I have Tinkerbell, Max, and The T-Rex coming over that night. Billie is still involved with the other guy. We don't try to figure anything out. We have time for breakfast. She picks a diner close to her home.
The drug haze is gone. She is thinking clearly. I show her the video of her from the day before. She is not happy with what she sees. She doesn't think she is always like that. I assure her she is. I tell her I could not believe her mom didn't know she was on Xanax yesterday. This is the Billy I like. The Billy that is fun to be around but not using. The morning after Billy. She is not high, but she is not yet affected by cravings or withdrawals. For a few moments, she is normal.
One, and you hold me.
And we're broken
Still, it's all that I want to do
Just a little now
I feel myself heavy on the ground
I'm scared I'm not coming down
No no
And I won't run for my life
She's got her jaws just locked now in a smile
But nothing is all right
All right
She asks the owner of the restaurant if they are hiring. She charms him into allowing her to apply for an opening that doesn't officially exist. She tells me that she will go to her doctor on Tuesday to get on Suboxone. If she can't, she is willing to go back to rehab again this week. I hope she does. She should never quit trying to quit.
I clean the house when I get home, erasing all evidence of her presence before Tinkerbell arrives. I don't want to answer any of her questions. When Max arrives, we make replicas of the perk-a-cola bottles for every perk they offer in Call of Duty. This morning I weigh 4 pounds less.
The sky was gold, it was rose
I was taking sips of it through my nose
And I wish I could get back there
Some place back there
In the place we used to sta-a-a-a-rt.... Semi- Charmed Life, Third Eye Blind
